Of All the Losers at RFK Stadium, One Is a (Giant) Head Above the Rest

As long as I asked about his love for the fans and his intention to win, Teddy was optimistic and sunny, fingering his watch fob, his eyes shining through gold-rimmed specs. But as I honed in on matters of strategy and his dismal record, T.R. turned sour. Could he use some coaching? Teddy looked aghast. Had he considered seeking advice from the current president? Appalled, T.R. kicked over a chair and walked out.

Nats public relations executives and I cajoled him to return. He allowed how Jefferson is his favorite president to hang out with after hours, and he took pride in being the fans' favorite. But when I asked whether he had thought at all about looking for another line of work -- after all, former presidents are huge on the lecture circuit -- Teddy stomped off once again, knocking over a chair for good measure.

Well, you know reporters: Always piling on. So, yes, I did ask Teddy if he had ever considered anger management counseling. It would be my last question to the president. When last seen, he was storming out of the room, leaving a tangle of overturned chairs in his wake.

Maybe I should have accepted the ballpark tradition that what happens off the field stays off the field.

Despite Teddy's temper, there isn't a whiff of scandal surrounding the man. His greatest flaw is that he cannot bear to turn away from the people in the stands, and what do we love more than a pol who feels compelled to wade into the crowd?

Someday, Teddy's going to win a race, and then, unfairly, we will love him just a bit less. For now, he's our lovable loser, a pet of sorts, and the one guarantee we have that someone will have a record worse than our Nats.

E-mail:marcfisher@washpost.com