Three years with Bob Gibbs. I thought Hell was hell. Putting him in a suit is like dressing your trash for the curb. Absolutely no experience in journalism, a full-time campaign hack.
It’s my fault, of course. I told Barry to hire him. “The guy’s a soccer goalie! Get it?” Sure enough, the first briefing, the first question – from Helen Thomas, no less – and instead of just saying,”Helen, fix your damn teeth,” he jumps sideways across the podium with his arms in the air. When the guy from Univsion yelled, “Goooooaaal!” I thought I’d die. Well, actually…OK. I’m okay. Fine. And back.