E-Mail This Article to a Friend Premature great expectations Tom Reilly is the early Democratic front-runner. Can he handle the pressure? BY ADAM REILLY

IF YOU WERE betting on who will be elected governor next year — and if you attended this week’s Martin Luther King Day Breakfast, where you could see the Republican incumbent, Mitt Romney, and his possible Democratic challenger, state attorney general Tom Reilly, in action — chances are you would put your money on Romney.

Just before 8 a.m., Reilly and Romney found themselves side by side in a bleak hallway outside the ballroom at the new Boston convention center. The governor, who stands a full head taller than Reilly, was in rare form: he discussed the state of the Episcopal Church with two ministers; sang the praises of Ed Rendell, the former Democratic governor of Pennsylvania; and shot one-liners at Boston mayor Tom Menino. Reilly seemed considerably less at ease. While Romney schmoozed, Reilly stood quietly, his face frozen into a strained smile, murmuring occasional greetings to passers-by.

In other words, Romney looked like a natural politician. And Reilly didn’t. In different circumstances — say, when Reilly was taking on the Red Sox or the gun industry or the Catholic Church — this would have been unremarkable. But now that he is the leading Democratic candidate for the state’s highest office, every move he makes is sure to attract intense scrutiny. The good news, for Reilly and his supporters, is that many people consider him the Democrat to beat. The bad news is that he could be in the spotlight for almost two years — and the public may not like what it sees.

ON DECEMBER 4, 2004, the Boston Globe reported that two major Democratic fundraisers — Steve Grossman, the former state and national Democratic Party chair, and Alan Solomont, a top fundraiser for John Kerry’s presidential campaign — were backing Reilly for governor. Reilly, Grossman gushed, would be "a superb candidate for governor in 2006."

Thus began a protracted run of good press for the attorney general. On December 15, the Boston Herald suggested Reilly might be "cornering" the Democratic nomination. The next day, Scott Harshbarger — an ex-AG and former Democratic gubernatorial candidate who some thought might make another run — told the paper he was in Reilly’s corner. At the end of December, Reilly topped the $2 million mark in fundraising. On January 6, Congressman Michael Capuano of Somerville ended months of speculation by announcing that he’d ruled out a gubernatorial run. Four days later, the Herald reported that the Massachusetts Republican Party had staked out several Web sites for satirical use in the event of a Reilly-Romney showdown. Two days after that, former congressman Joe Kennedy also decided against running for governor, becoming the second prominent Democrat in a week to take a pass on the race. And two days after that, with the blessing of both Romney and Turnpike Authority chair Matt Amorello, Reilly’s office took control of cost recovery for the Big Dig debacle — a huge task, but also a chance to win the public’s gratitude on a high-profile issue.

All these developments — money in the bank, key Democrats backing Reilly early, other big names opting out of the race — suggested Reilly’s still-undeclared candidacy had genuine momentum. They also suggested that the state’s Democratic establishment was heeding the lessons of 2002, when a tough primary campaign depleted Democratic donors, sapped the resources of eventual nominee Shannon O’Brien, and generated lingering tension among various party factions. (At one point, the Democratic field included former state treasurer O’Brien; state Senate president Tom Birmingham; Grossman; former state senator Warren Tolman; and former Clinton labor secretary Robert Reich.) "A robust primary makes the ultimate Democratic nominee better as a candidate," O’Brien says today. "However, I can tell you quite clearly that the negative ads I weathered before the primary — from other Democrats and from Romney — were damaging. A primary isn’t a bad thing, but one where ultimately the winner emerges badly damaged by negative attacks? That’s not a good thing."

Ever since O’Brien’s general-election loss to Romney, Democrats have spoken of avoiding a "bruising Democratic primary" in future elections. (In fact, "bruising Democratic primary" has become a useful catch phrase, one that simultaneously excuses Democratic failings and diminishes Republican victories.) Focus on 2002, and the solution seems obvious: find a consensus candidate as early as possible, and stick with that person down the stretch. "It would be unique for the Democratic Party to have a single candidate going through the whole process," says Massachusetts Democratic Party spokesperson Jane Lane. "It would eliminate a lot of infighting and save a lot of money for the general election, and it would result in a well-rested nominee." Lane acknowledges the arguments in favor of a more-competitive primary — voters become more involved, candidates are forced to prove themselves — but she seems to favor the one-candidate model. "The party would like an opportunity to have one candidate come out unscathed from the primary and energized to enter the general election," she says. "It would be a luxury for us, but I think it’s one that we would look forward to.

There’s just one problem: the tribulations of 2002 may not be all that instructive. In 1990, for example, former Boston University president John Silber jumped into the race late and beat out Frank Bellotti and Evelyn Murphy for the Democratic nomination. If the notoriously combative and intemperate Silber hadn’t dismissed the residents of Roxbury and Mattapan as "drug addicts" and then dissed both a national and a local anchorwoman just before the primary, he might well have beaten Republican newcomer William Weld.