NASHUA, N.H. -- His crowds have swelled. So has his traveling press corps. His fans packed a high school gymnasium here yesterday, and enough of them were impressed that they kept the candidate signing autographs for more than an hour after his speech.
After 19 years in the US Senate and 30 years in politics, John Kerry, against considerable odds, is hot.
It's easy to see how much his win in Iowa matters here, and the biggest difference is in the candidate himself. For much of 2003, listening to him was painful. He couldn't really articulate his position on the war, or explain what he wanted to do as president. His claims of being the only candidate with the "experience" to be president rang hollow. After a while, he couldn't even claim to be the only candidate with real-life military expertise.
On he plodded, but he didn't seem to be getting anywhere.
There was little evidence of that John Kerry yesterday. The uncomfortable campaigner had been replaced by a guy who actually seemed to be having a good time, basking in newfound adulation.
Maybe he knew something all along, when he kept insisting that the polls meant nothing, that no one had cast a vote yet. Turns out, he knew something. It's not that the polls casting him as an underdog in New Hampshire were wrong; they weren't. What he knew is that political fate is fickle. When Howard Dean, on caucus night in Iowa, lost it -- or was judged by America's late-night commentariat to have lost it -- Kerry became the man.
It could all still turn, again and again. That, too, might be good to know, as he assumes the dreaded mantle of front-runner in the Democratic presidential race.
Kerry was superb yesterday. He gave the people who hate George W. Bush everything they came for, and he looked nothing less than presidential in the process. Calm. In command. At ease. Kerry was not at all the aloof, cardboard figure of his caricature.
He pummeled Bush on the war, the economy, the environment, and the war again. His stump speech gets good mileage from Bush's ridiculous appearance on an aircraft carrier to declare the "mission accomplished" in Iraq. It was straight from the standard Democratic playbook, yet distinctive.
It really began to jell for Kerry in Iowa, the place where he learned to sell his experience and expertise without sounding so awkward. As veteran political commentator David S. Broder commented on "Meet The Press" yesterday, he learned to speak English again instead of Beltway-ease. He began to connect with voters, the very thing he is supposedly so awful at.
As a symbol of his surprising turnaround, Kerry now has to caution his Granite State supporters against overconfidence. "We need to reach out to the people of this state with humility and a clear sense of purpose," he told them.
He said nothing yesterday about any of his opponents. He didn't need to, given his healthy lead. He can talk about the president and himself. His battles with Senator John Edwards and retired General Wesley K. Clark will be waged in earnest post-New Hampshire, as the campaign caravan heads South. Dean's battle is largely with himself.
Everyone wonders what will happen after Tuesday. Kerry himself seems unfazed, which is part of what a few good polls will do for you. When I asked him yesterday about maintaining his momentum after tomorrow, he said, "It partly takes care of itself. We have seven states to visit in the seven days after this primary."
In other words, in a compressed campaign schedule, looking more than a week down the road is a luxury.
No, it's one rally, one event, one debate at a time. Being ahead certainly is better than being behind, but it can all change in an instant. Kerry, the veteran overnight sensation, knows that as well as anyone.
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com.
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