It was a warm summer day in Ohio, and on the Cleveland Browns' practice fields south of the city an eagle-eyed coach patrolled the sidelines. As George W. Bush tossed a football around with NFL players—a dream photo op in a gridiron-crazed state— the man who had made him president was about his usual business: the meticulous control of every level of the method and message of Bush's re-election campaign. For the national press—most of which Karl Rove regards as the enemy—the photo op was plenty. Far more crucial, he insisted, were the "locals." Rove wanted to know if they were being properly cared for. Yes, they were. In fact, one of those who soon would interview Bush was Paul Krawzak of the Canton Repository—the key paper in the swing county (Stark) of the ultimate swing state. Rove was delighted. And in his world, Canton had special meaning. It's the home of President William McKinley, whose probusiness yet progressive wartime leadership made him a 19th-century "compassionate conservative"— and whose close adviser, Mark Hanna, was the country's first famous handler. In Canton years before, Rove had insisted on visiting the McKinley memorial. "It was like a pilgrimage," recalled one of his hosts.
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