Everyone knows Orrin Hatch will be tough to beat this year.
He has $3 million, maybe even $4 million. He's a conservative Republican in a conservative, Republican state. He has all the power of incumbency and uses it wisely. Gone are the many negative feelings some Utahns had of him during his early years in Washington. And while Hatch continues to have problems connecting with the average Utahn, the average Utahn doesn't seem to care.History is on Hatch's side, too. No Republican incumbent congressman has been defeated in Utah since 1972, when a young Wayne Owens unseated the late Sherm Lloyd in the 2nd Congressional District.
With money no real object, Hatch can spend lavishly on organization. His campaign manager came on full time in mid-1993. By Jan. 1, 1994, Hatch had already spent nearly $1 million on his re-election, and no ads were running, no outward sign of activity. The foundation, however, had been deeply dug.
But, Democrats still have hope. Hatch has one great Achilles' heel: He's been in office 18 years. And poll after poll shows Utahns favor congressional term limits and don't like the idea of a senator staying 24 years in office.
Enter Pat Shea. Enter very late, Pat Shea.
Shea didn't announce his candidacy until March 17, the final candidate filing day. Already, the Democrats had seen one good candidate, Grethe Peterson, announce and then get out of the race. Rep. Bill Orton danced with idea of running against Hatch, but shied away. Even a week before Shea's announcement, 1992 Senate candidate Doug Anderson was going to run. But Anderson opted out, also, as did state Senate Minority Leader Scott Howell. So it was Shea.
Underfunded, Shea struggled to catch Utahns' attention. He had a theme - 18 years is long enough. But could he sell it?
No lack of ego
It takes a strong sense of self to run for Congress these days. In that respect, Shea is not lacking.
In a very real way, Shea's been waiting for this race most of his life.
Born to a working-class Catholic family with close ties to its Irish past, Shea grew up an underdog in LDS Utah. He learned to compromise, to make his family and religious differences an asset, not a liability.
He learned that hard work, combined with his naturally bright mind, could make people listen to him, respect him, even like him. Debate was his passion in high school, where his senior year at Highland he placed first in state competitions in two categories.
Off he went to Stanford University, where he meshed intellectual ability with politics and religion. He worked one summer with the Jesuits in Hong Kong, helping poor fishermen upgrade their boats with diesel engines; he won the presidency of Stanford's student body. How much higher could Shea reach?
He decided to find out. He applied for and won a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford University - perhaps the most prestigious award an undergraduate can get. He capped of his academic career in a grand manner - Harvard Law School.
But intellectual hard work wasn't enough. He was a product of the Vietnam War era, the 1960s. He wanted to do something, not just get A's and attend class. So Shea broke away from his Cambridge law studies, rode the train to Washington, D.C., and worked on several congressional committees.
Finally burned out on school, law and politics, Shea retreated to Utah, renting an Emigration Canyon house, shutting himself in with no radio or TV. He emerged long enough to marry a nurse, get a job in a downtown law firm and start what he considered a "normal" life.
While Shea was hibernating in Emigration Canyon, worn out, Hatch was just reaching his stride - running for and winning a seat to the U.S. Senate in 1976.
A hard-working talker
If you think Hatch is rather a staid, serious fellow, you're not alone. His mother, Helen, remembers Orrin as a strange child. "He was always so serious," even as a little boy.
Like Shea, Hatch learned that hard work can pay off. A mediocre athlete, Hatch decided to make himself better. He succeeded in making his Pittsburgh high school basketball team, even though others had more natural ability. But that wasn't enough. He worked so hard at being likable that he was elected team captain. He then was elected class president and student-body president.
Then came an LDS Church mission, undergraduate work at Brigham Young University, marriage and Pittsburgh Law School, where Hatch and his wife were so poor they lived in a converted chicken coop behind Hatch's parents' home. Hatch was raised a Democrat, even belonged to the AFL-CIO during law school when he worked as a metal worker and plasterer. But he turned against unions and the Democratic party, already a partisan Republican when he moved to Utah in the early 1970s to start a law practice.
Working to be liked has long been a trait with Hatch. Those who've run his campaigns say he can't stand it when a constituent says he won't vote for him. "Some politicians can accept that they need only 50 percent plus one to win," said one former campaign aide. "Orrin just doesn't accept that. He wants to win with 100 percent of the vote - he wants every last vote and can't understand when he doesn't get it."
In the Senate, Hatch had early successes, and early failures. With the Ronald Reagan landslide of 1980, Hatch - only four years in office - was propelled into the majority and into a committee chairmanship. No longer in the minority, Hatch had to produce, not just criticize. Hatch pushed through a number of new laws. Various women's and social-service groups were pleasantly surprised by some of his moderate stands, and far right groups began complaining that Hatch wasn't a true conservative as he'd professed.
When Democrats regained control of the Senate in 1986, Hatch dropped back into the minority. As his influence decreased, his rhetoric increased. Later came the Anita Hill/Clarence Thomas hearings and Hatch's minor brush with the BCCI scandal (where Hatch was cleared of any wrongdoing) - both incidents that brought Hatch received national attention.
The final push
Now with just four weeks left until the election, Shea must attack Hatch, trying to close the 35-point gap in the polls. Hatch will be pushing what he's done for Utah, how seniority counts, how if Republicans win back the majority in November he'll be invaluable. Shea will talk term limits - vote like you really want them - about Hatch's ties to Washington special interests, about abused power, lost opportunities because Democrats run the federal government, not Republicans.
For Shea it's become a long shot. And Hatch is starting to ponder what lies beyond 24 years in the U.S. Senate.