Fourth and So Long
By REP. JON RUNYAN
January 24, 2014
People are constantly asking me how similar politics is to pro football. I spent more than a decade in the NFL before spending the past three years in Congress, and the truth of the matter is the two occupations are more alike than not. Both are contact sports, and you’d better be ready to play when you step onto either field. While it’s tough to say which is more difficult, there have been plenty of times in the past few years when I’ve thought politics was harder. At least in football you know exactly who your opponent is.
When I decided to run for Congress, I saw it as an opportunity to serve the South Jersey community that had become my home after signing to play for the Philadelphia Eagles. I didn’t choose public service out of political ambition or a desire for power, and never once thought of making a career of it. For me, it was simply a chance to give back to my community and the country.
There is no doubt that I am enormously proud of the work I’ve done on behalf of my constituents. We’ve got more than 60,000 veterans and their families in the 3rd District of New Jersey — and not a day has gone by that I wasn’t fighting for them. South Jersey is home to Joint Base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst, one of the finest military installations in the world, and it was my honor to represent the base and all of those who serve there. That’s the stuff that matters to me.
But my frustrations with the ways of Washington have been well-documented. Of course, the things that have bothered me most — the petty ambitions and the misplaced priorities — have frustrated many of my colleagues on both sides of the aisle. Believe it or not, there are members of Congress who actually want to govern and get stuff done. Unfortunately, there are others whose agendas and strategies serve to advance their own interests and expand their donor base.
I guess, to use another football analogy, there’s no substitute for teamwork — and in Washington, I saw too little of it. I got myself into some trouble very early on when my comments in a closed meeting about the importance of working toward a common goal were leaked before the meeting even adjourned! At the time, we were attempting to pass a spending package to fund the government, and I had noticed that individual personalities and self-serving strategies had become the focus of our attention — a classic example, you could say, of guys playing to get to the Pro Bowl rather than the Super Bowl. In the months and years that followed, I watched repeated marches right up to the very edge of fiscal calamity, even the shutdown of the federal government — all of it leaving me quite frustrated and my constituents scratching their heads in bewilderment. Things seemed dysfunctional, and despite all the accomplished people around me, too often we accomplished less than I would have liked.
It was Hurricane Sandy that not only decimated parts of my district but pushed me to the brink of my frustrations with the game of politics. In the fall of 2012, in the immediate wake of Sandy, I suspended my congressional reelection campaign and got to work helping those folks in South Jersey whose lives had been turned upside down by the storm. (My political opponent, well, she ran a radio ad comparing my record to that of the hurricane.)
I returned to Washington ready to fight for emergency aid to help the towns affected in my state and throughout the Northeast rebuild. Governors from both political parties joined ranks and Gov. Chris Christie (R-N.J.) and President Barack Obama famously teamed up to “restore the shore.” Republicans and Democrats from the impacted areas worked together in the House on a clean package to get immediate relief to our constituents.
And what did we get out of the Senate? A bill laden with sweeteners intended to secure yes votes from senators whose states weren’t even impacted by the storm. Things like money for fisheries in Alaska. Pretty soon opposition to the bill developed even as millions of Americans sifted through what remained of their possessions — those who were lucky enough to have something to sift through, that is.
It took weeks for a relief package to reach the floor of the House of Representatives. Even when it was pork-free, that bill garnered 180 “no” votes — including 179 members of my own party. Many of these members had previously requested aid for their own districts following other natural disasters. I actually carried the list of those members in my lapel pocket for weeks following that vote.
I can’t really pinpoint a specific moment when I made the decision not to seek a third term in Congress. It was more like a series of gut-check moments. Like on the third day of a seven-day family reunion vacation — I was leaving the next day to return to Washington — when my youngest daughter sat on the end of my bed and made it very clear to me she did not want me to go back, ever. A month before that, I was at the Detroit airport after dropping my son off at football camp at the University of Michigan. I was headed back to D.C. when I took the call from the head football coach at Michigan (my own alma mater), letting me know that my son was being offered a scholarship to play ball there. I missed the first plane that day to take the phone call, but I really missed being with my son and sharing that moment that you get once in a lifetime.
In each of these moments, I was reminded of a promise I made to myself while still playing football, that once I retired, I would be there for my kids. It became clear to me that there was no way I could do both. I came to Washington to serve my constituents, and I gave it my all. I’m grateful for the trust that my constituents in the 3rd District placed in me, and the opportunity they gave me to serve. Now it’s time for me to take my place on the sidelines.
By REP. JON RUNYAN
January 24, 2014
People are constantly asking me how similar politics is to pro football. I spent more than a decade in the NFL before spending the past three years in Congress, and the truth of the matter is the two occupations are more alike than not. Both are contact sports, and you’d better be ready to play when you step onto either field. While it’s tough to say which is more difficult, there have been plenty of times in the past few years when I’ve thought politics was harder. At least in football you know exactly who your opponent is.
When I decided to run for Congress, I saw it as an opportunity to serve the South Jersey community that had become my home after signing to play for the Philadelphia Eagles. I didn’t choose public service out of political ambition or a desire for power, and never once thought of making a career of it. For me, it was simply a chance to give back to my community and the country.
There is no doubt that I am enormously proud of the work I’ve done on behalf of my constituents. We’ve got more than 60,000 veterans and their families in the 3rd District of New Jersey — and not a day has gone by that I wasn’t fighting for them. South Jersey is home to Joint Base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst, one of the finest military installations in the world, and it was my honor to represent the base and all of those who serve there. That’s the stuff that matters to me.
But my frustrations with the ways of Washington have been well-documented. Of course, the things that have bothered me most — the petty ambitions and the misplaced priorities — have frustrated many of my colleagues on both sides of the aisle. Believe it or not, there are members of Congress who actually want to govern and get stuff done. Unfortunately, there are others whose agendas and strategies serve to advance their own interests and expand their donor base.
I guess, to use another football analogy, there’s no substitute for teamwork — and in Washington, I saw too little of it. I got myself into some trouble very early on when my comments in a closed meeting about the importance of working toward a common goal were leaked before the meeting even adjourned! At the time, we were attempting to pass a spending package to fund the government, and I had noticed that individual personalities and self-serving strategies had become the focus of our attention — a classic example, you could say, of guys playing to get to the Pro Bowl rather than the Super Bowl. In the months and years that followed, I watched repeated marches right up to the very edge of fiscal calamity, even the shutdown of the federal government — all of it leaving me quite frustrated and my constituents scratching their heads in bewilderment. Things seemed dysfunctional, and despite all the accomplished people around me, too often we accomplished less than I would have liked.
***
It was Hurricane Sandy that not only decimated parts of my district but pushed me to the brink of my frustrations with the game of politics. In the fall of 2012, in the immediate wake of Sandy, I suspended my congressional reelection campaign and got to work helping those folks in South Jersey whose lives had been turned upside down by the storm. (My political opponent, well, she ran a radio ad comparing my record to that of the hurricane.)
I returned to Washington ready to fight for emergency aid to help the towns affected in my state and throughout the Northeast rebuild. Governors from both political parties joined ranks and Gov. Chris Christie (R-N.J.) and President Barack Obama famously teamed up to “restore the shore.” Republicans and Democrats from the impacted areas worked together in the House on a clean package to get immediate relief to our constituents.
And what did we get out of the Senate? A bill laden with sweeteners intended to secure yes votes from senators whose states weren’t even impacted by the storm. Things like money for fisheries in Alaska. Pretty soon opposition to the bill developed even as millions of Americans sifted through what remained of their possessions — those who were lucky enough to have something to sift through, that is.
It took weeks for a relief package to reach the floor of the House of Representatives. Even when it was pork-free, that bill garnered 180 “no” votes — including 179 members of my own party. Many of these members had previously requested aid for their own districts following other natural disasters. I actually carried the list of those members in my lapel pocket for weeks following that vote.
I can’t really pinpoint a specific moment when I made the decision not to seek a third term in Congress. It was more like a series of gut-check moments. Like on the third day of a seven-day family reunion vacation — I was leaving the next day to return to Washington — when my youngest daughter sat on the end of my bed and made it very clear to me she did not want me to go back, ever. A month before that, I was at the Detroit airport after dropping my son off at football camp at the University of Michigan. I was headed back to D.C. when I took the call from the head football coach at Michigan (my own alma mater), letting me know that my son was being offered a scholarship to play ball there. I missed the first plane that day to take the phone call, but I really missed being with my son and sharing that moment that you get once in a lifetime.
In each of these moments, I was reminded of a promise I made to myself while still playing football, that once I retired, I would be there for my kids. It became clear to me that there was no way I could do both. I came to Washington to serve my constituents, and I gave it my all. I’m grateful for the trust that my constituents in the 3rd District placed in me, and the opportunity they gave me to serve. Now it’s time for me to take my place on the sidelines.
***
Rep. Jon Runyan has represented New Jersey’s 3rd Congressional District since 2011 and previously played 14 seasons as a Pro Bowl offensive tackle in the NFL.
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