E-Mail This Article to a Friend Premature great expectations (continued)

In 1994, Weld easily won re-election as a highly popular incumbent, crushing State Representative Mark Roosevelt. In 1998, the Democratic primary fight among Harshbarger, Pat McGovern, and Brian Donnelly was relatively tame — but Republican incumbent Paul Cellucci (the former lieutenant governor took over the top spot in 1997, when Weld resigned to pursue an appointment as ambassador to Mexico) still kept his job. In 2002, Reich entered the race late, created much excitement among the party’s progressive wing, and made a strong run at the nomination. On the other side, of course, there was Romney. Freed from fundraising constraints by his massive personal wealth, the Savior of Salt Lake postponed entering the fray until eight months before Election Day. When he did, Jane Swift, the Republican incumbent (the former lieutenant governor took over the top spot in 2001, when Cellucci resigned to become ambassador to Canada), dutifully exited — and the rest, as they say, is history.

In terms of ideology, Silber, Reich, and Romney were worlds apart. But they shared one important similarity: each came from outside state government and succeeded, to varying degrees, by jumping in the race at the last minute. One could argue that if the Democrats flock to Reilly early, they’ll be ignoring the lessons of history rather than heeding them. "The nemesis for Democrats is perceived to be that they have a bloody primary. Then they wake up, the election’s seven weeks later, and they can’t get off the dime," one Democrat says. "What that ignores is the reality that in the last four gubernatorial elections, that’s been the case once."

IF REILLY falters in the coming months, all that early momentum could easily dissipate. This could lead Capuano or Kennedy to reconsider, or prompt others to pursue a run. Secretary of State Bill Galvin is still frequently mentioned as a prospective candidate. So is Chris Gabrieli, who ran for lieutenant governor in 2002 and who, with his Romney-esque personal wealth, would be able to defer a decision until relatively late. Then there’s Deval Patrick, who served as Bill Clinton’s assistant attorney general for civil rights. In terms of electoral politics, Patrick is a neophyte, but his experience as a Clinton appointee — and the fact that he’s African-American — would generate instant buzz around his candidacy.

With potential challengers still lurking in the wings, Reilly could have used a bravura performance at his recent speech to the Greater Boston Chamber of Commerce’s Government Affairs Breakfast Forum. During the address, which was widely viewed as his unofficial campaign kickoff, Reilly took an early stab at co-opting Romney’s "reform" language for himself. He offered an abbreviated version of his résumé, focusing on his crime-fighting activities as Middlesex County district attorney and his leadership, as attorney general, of the state’s bailout of Harvard Pilgrim Health Care. By lamenting the rising costs of health care, housing, and education, Reilly hinted at the specific issues he’ll seek to campaign on. He even previewed what may become his official campaign slogan: Massachusetts, Reilly told the audience, is stuck in neutral.

The speech was not wildly successful. Some who were there deemed Reilly’s presentation "dirge-like"; others bemoaned his lack of specifics and blandly technocratic tone. (Among other things, Reilly called for "cooperation," "vision and well-thought-out solutions," and "rolling up one’s sleeves and digging in for the long haul." He also told the audience, "We can do better, and we all know it.") " ‘We can do better’? That was Michael Dukakis’ pitch against George H.W. Bush and Mark Roosevelt’s pitch against Bill Weld [in 1994]," one Democrat complained. "I was at the speech," remarked another Democratic observer, "and I’ve got to say, I haven’t talked with anyone who was there who thought Reilly did well."

Not surprisingly, the Reilly camp takes exception. "We’ve gotten a good response," says one Reilly associate. "You’ve got to remember, that speech was not a big rah-rah political speech. It wasn’t intended to be some big pep rally." But while his supporters may not be worried, it remains to be seen whether Reilly — whose stoic prosecutorial mien has jibed with his career thus far — can cultivate an alternate campaign persona that lets him hold his own against the gregarious, telegenic Romney. "He’s got a very serious job, and he’s supposed to be apolitical as the top prosecutor in the state," says one Reilly watcher. "Yet now, because he’s forged this position of being the front-runner, he’s supposed to be hale-fellow-well-met with the great joke. He’s had to learn a different way of communicating. Now he’s got to unlearn it a bit. But he still has to do his job."

Furthermore, as he moves back and forth between his roles as candidate and AG, Reilly must brace himself for the allegations of opportunism that will surely arise. "Once you’re out there as a candidate, everything you say will be looked at in a political connotation," warns Frank Bellotti, a former AG and lieutenant governor who unsuccessfully sought the Democratic nomination in 1990. "That’s the disadvantage in getting out too soon. And when you’re a candidate, you get it more and more, regardless of what your motives are."

Reilly may rise to the challenge. Christine Gregoire just made the jump from attorney general to governor in Washington. Jennifer Granholm did it in Michigan. And Eliot Spitzer has parlayed his crusades as New York attorney general into a buzz-generating gubernatorial candidacy of his own. But Gregoire, Granholm, and Spitzer have all relied on charisma as well as law-enforcement experience to get where they are. Reilly’s candidacy may depend on whether he can cultivate some of his own — and fast.

Adam Reilly can be reached at areilly[a]phx.com