Tim Walz, accepting VP nomination, tells Democrats to ‘leave it on the field’

CHICAGO — Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota offered himself as a bridge to disillusioned Americans who regard the Democratic Party as a bastion of coastal elitism, in a high-stakes address formally accepting the vice-presidential nomination Wednesday night.

From the stage of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, Walz completed his breathtaking transformation from little-known governor to leading party figure, accentuating his Midwestern roots and portraying the Democratic ticket as one that champions pragmatism and patriotism.

“We’re all here tonight for one beautiful, simple reason: We love this country,” he said.

A month ago, many Americans outside Minnesota were unfamiliar with Walz, other than highly engaged Democrats who delighted in his punchy television appearances and memorable critiques of Republicans, whom he labeled “weird.”

But on Wednesday, as he gave the most consequential speech of his career, attendees made clear they had quickly become familiar with his life story, including his background as a former high school football coach. Before he took the stage, convention organizers handed out signs that read “Coach Walz,” and a burly group of his former players, now middle-aged, marched out to the tune of their high school fight song. Chants of “Coach” rang out during his speech, which was rife with football metaphors.

“It’s the fourth quarter. We’re down a field goal,” Walz said, comparing the presidential election to a football game. “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.”

He added: “We’re going to leave it on the field. That’s how we’ll keep moving forward. That’s how we’ll turn the page on Donald Trump.”

Walz’s remarks focused far more on the details of his football coaching career than on the 12 years he spent in Congress. It’s a reflection of the partywide push to emphasize his identity as a husband, father and red-blooded American man. Walz also repeated a familiar line from his stump speech about his prowess as a hunter, noting he “has the trophies to prove” he was a more accurate shot than his Republican colleagues in the House.

In some ways, Walz — who speaks often of “joy” and has the demeanor of a man who still can’t believe his good fortune — is the human embodiment of the Democratic Party’s head-spinning reversal of energy this summer.

After President Joe Biden’s exit from the race and Vice President Kamala Harris’ ascent, an anxious party that was dreading November suddenly seems giddy.

“I’m having more fun than I ever imagined,” said Sen. Chuck Schumer of New York, the majority leader who has been coming to Democratic conventions since 1984. “There’s such unity and excitement. Who ever thought?”

Of course, senior Democrats also think that the campaign against former President Donald Trump will be ugly, unpredictable and close.

That, in part, is where Walz comes in.

Democrats hope he can help stem their losses with rural and white working-class voters who have grown increasingly hostile to his party.

“Who better to take on the price of gas than a guy who could pull over to help change your tire?” Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota said from the convention stage shortly before Walz spoke, playing up his average-Joe persona. “Who better to find common ground than a guy with Midwestern common sense?”

Walz began his career as a culturally conservative Democrat on some issues before evolving in recent years to become a liberal favorite. His first term as governor was marked by consensus building with Republicans who controlled one chamber of the state Legislature. But when Democrats won majorities in the 2022 election, he pressed to enact a sweeping agenda of liberal priorities.

“While other states were banning books from their schools, we were banishing hunger from ours,” Walz said, referring to a bill he signed that allowed public schools to provide all students with free breakfast and lunch.

But back in 2006, he also flipped a largely rural and more culturally conservative House district in southern Minnesota.

“Never underestimate a public-school teacher,” he said to cheers, discussing that race before describing lessons from his time in Congress. “I learned how to work across the aisle on issues like growing the rural economies and taking care of veterans, and I learned how to compromise without compromising my values.”

With his emphasis on neighborliness and his folksy style, he still speaks the language of small-town America. (His walk-on music, John Mellencamp’s “Small Town,” only drove that point home.)

The governor, a graduate of Chadron State College in Nebraska, has also relished turning charges of elitism against Republicans — Sen. JD Vance, Trump’s running mate, attended Yale Law School.

“I had 24 kids in my high school class,” Walz said of his Nebraska upbringing. “And none of them went to Yale.”

Harris and Walz have both embraced traditionally conservative language and phrasing to cast themselves as defenders of universal American values like freedom and liberty, arguing that it is Republicans, with their abortion bans in many states, who are spurring government intrusion into Americans’ lives.

Walz, who served 24 years in the Army National Guard, seems especially comfortable with such language. But Republicans, led by Vance, who served in the Marine Corps, have attacked him over his military record and how he has characterized his service.

Four veterans who investigate claims of fraudulent military service told the New York Times that they did not believe Walz engaged in “stolen valor,” but that he did misrepresent or speak imprecisely about his record at times. Walz has strongly defended his record.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.