Coach Walz showed why he’s Harris’ VP — and Josh Shapiro isn’t

Minnesota Governor Tim Walz introduced himself to Americans on Wednesday night as a regular guy who knows their pain and frustration because he’s lived it. A former high school teacher and football coach, he knows what it’s like to raise a family on a tight budget.

Walz was chosen by Vice President Kamala Harris not just because the two share great chemistry. And not just because he has racked up an impressive record of Democratic goals in office. He is an everyman in a way that few running mates in modern history have been.

Harris is making a symbolic point. She is the daughter of immigrants. He is the son of teachers, raised in a prairie state. The contrast with billionaire Donald Trump, a son of inherited wealth, whose only lodestar is his self-interest, could not be greater.

Walz’s speech accepting his party’s nomination for vice president was short — just 15 minutes — plain-spoken and straight from the gut. He presented Americans with the choice before them. “When Republicans use the word freedom, they mean that the government should be free to invade your doctor’s office,” Walz said.

“Corporations — free to pollute your air and water. And banks — free to take advantage of customers. But when we Democrats talk about freedom, we mean the freedom to make a better life for yourself and the people that you love. Freedom to make your own health care decisions. And yeah, your kids’ freedom to go to school without worrying about being shot dead in the hall.”

In describing the road to the White House, Coach Walz delivered a pep talk to an arena-sized huddle. “It’s the fourth quarter. We’re down a field goal,” he said. “But we’re on offense and we’ve got the ball. We’re driving down the field. And boy, do we have the right team. Kamala Harris is tough. Kamala Harris is experienced. And Kamala Harris is ready. Our job … our job for everyone watching, is to get in the trenches and do the blocking and tackling. One inch at a time. One yard at a time. One phone call at a time. One door knock at a time.”

Walz has never been one for flowery oratory. But he has a knack for cutting through the clutter that is a far cry from the policy-heavy, jargony speeches typical of Democrats in the past. This is the man who, vying against a heavyweight roster of potential running mates, got on TV and with one word, “weird,” reset the entire Democratic campaign framing for how to attack Trump.

His story — a small-town kid who joins the military, serves his country for 24 years, becomes a beloved teacher and coach, then goes to Congress and on to governor — sounds like it was scripted by Hollywood. His fashion choices run toward battered Carhartt barn jackets and flannel shirts that, as former President Barack Obama said during his convention speech, “come from his closet” and not some political consultant. And those shirts, Obama said, have “been through some stuff.” (At this, Gwen Walz, his wife of 30 years, burst out laughing and mouthed “So true.”)

That’s become a punchline. But it’s also part of what connects him to working-class America. If Harris wanted another polished lawyer, she could have chosen Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, a former Attorney General whose state holds a treasure trove of electoral votes.

Walz’s accomplishments in Congress and as governor also are emblematic of what Harris would like to achieve on a broader scale as president: a government that lifts working- and middle-class families, a government that fights for average people to live the lives they choose.

His fashion? Well, that’s just Midwest. We wear a lot of flannel up here.

In an introductory video about her husband’s life, Gwen Walz related how they met as school teachers sharing a classroom divided “right down the middle.” His commitment to service, she said, “all comes back to the values we grew up with: love your country, help your neighbor and fight for what’s right. Because that’s what America is all about.”

As Walz spoke about the fertility treatments that allowed the couple to have children, Hope, 23, wept and made a heart sign, while Gus, 17, stood sobbing and pointing to the stage, saying “That’s my dad.”

Walz fired up an attack on Trump and his running mate JD Vance. “We know if these guys get back in the White House, they’ll start jacking up the costs on the middle class.” Walz told the crowd Trump and Vance want to repeal the Affordable Care Act, gut Social Security and Medicare, and ban abortion across the country. It’s an agenda, Walz said, that “nobody asked for, that serves nobody except the richest and most extreme amongst us and … does nothing for our neighbors in need.”

And in what has become his signature word, Walz said, “Is it weird? Absolutely. But it’s also wrong. And it’s dangerous.”

Beyond the attacks, the life story, the quips that launched him into the media stratosphere, Walz brings one other valuable asset that Harris would do well to maximize: a political trajectory that has both compromise and democratic principles at its heart. Those skills could pay dividends not just during the campaign, but in pushing through a Harris-Walz agenda should they win in November.

He started his political career by unseating a longtime Republican congressman in GOP farm country. His moderate message and working-class backstory proved appealing to voters there and he was reelected five times. When he ran for governor, the district reverted to Republican hands and has remained in GOP control.

In Congress, Walz ranked among its most bipartisan members. He considers himself progressive, but says his policies grow out of the same concerns and issues he and his wife faced raising their family.

Minnesota is not the U.S. Neither is Harris’s home state of California. When the convention glow wears off, they’ll need to be ready for the brutal, no-holds barred fight ahead. But bet on a team that holds out a bright, inclusive vision for this country’s future that centers on average Americans.