In fact, Talarico has an uncanny ability to say the same things over and over again. His memorized speeches sound as if he is reading from a teleprompter, without false starts or stutters—he repeats himself only when trying to speak over the crowd’s applause. Now, in the final stretch, his closing message attempts to cover everything, from the etymology of the word “Texas” to the mythos of Beyoncé and Selena. At his rallies, he compares himself to the Biblical David, preparing for battle; he tells each city he visits, “You are my slingshot.” He also says that, like Jesus Christ, he was called to serve, not to be served. And he also likes to evoke Coach Eric Taylor from the TV show “Friday Night Lights,” telling his supporters, “This is the last play of the last drive.” On the G.O.P. side, Paxton’s attacks on Talarico are caustic enough to make the Democrat’s put-downs (he is partial to a line about how Paxton is like “that one guy” at a bar who sneakily adds his drink to your tab) sound like constructive feedback.
Talarico has avoided having joint rallies with national Democratic figures, including some rumored 2028 contenders, an omission that his surrogates attribute to a desire to focus on Texas rather than on the Party. After a Talarico rally in San Antonio, I rattled names of high-profile Democrats to two women who went to grab a beer near the venue. Would campaigning with Barack Obama help Talarico win in Texas? “Maybe, yes,” one of the women said. Kamala Harris? “Eeeeh,” her friend replied. “Maybe not, maybe not.” “I think George Bush would be great,” the first woman added.
Christian Menefee, a recently elected Democratic congressman representing Houston, told me that Talarico could do just fine without Obama. “That’s a fantastic way to be approaching this—not looking for a savior here at the last minute,” he said. Within the state, Representative Jasmine Crockett, Talarico’s opponent in the primary, claimed to NBC News that the nominee had not reached out to her for campaign appearances. “You know, I don’t view it as significant that James and Jasmine aren’t in a caravan driving across the state,” Menefee told me. “I view it as significant that we are all working together for the same thing.”
If elected, Talarico would, along with Ted Cruz, represent the state with the largest population of Black Americans in the country. After Talarico beat Crockett, Menefee told him that he needed to show up in Black communities, though he cautioned that people would be angry—at him, at previous campaigns, at a Democratic Party that has overlooked them. “When you come and you just sit down and shut the hell up and listen to people, that means a lot to them,” Menefee said. Other lawmakers and activists have expressed concerns that the campaign is not doing enough to turn out those voters. “For a lot of us, it’s, like, Well, how can this white boy, for real, for real, understand this, when he hasn’t been in these situations?” Chas Moore, the co-founder of Austin Justice Coalition, who overlapped with Talarico at the University of Texas at Austin, said. (Talarico’s spiel hasn’t changed much since he was running for student government, he said.) The risk is that “they either vote for him,” Moore said, “or they just don’t show up—which, to me, is a vote for Paxton.”
At a rally in Corpus Christi, staff verified guests by sticking gold stars on them—a callback of sorts to Talarico’s days as a public-school educator. Among the nine hundred and sixteen guests was Mailey Gonzalez, a nineteen-year-old who said Talarico reminded her of her own teachers in high school. Although she was excited about Talarico’s campaign, she said she wished he talked more about health-care issues affecting women, including teen pregnancy. What’s more, “it really worries me that he came here and they’re not gonna listen to him as much—especially with Trump coming down,” she said, referring to an upcoming rally with Paxton. “It’s worrying me that it’s going one place, but then it’s just going to backtrack.”
