GARDNER SELBY: COMMENTARY

Perry spokesman a bulldog for governor who doesn't cultivate reporters

Robert Black, leaving in September, won't be saying adios, Mofo.

Robert Black called me just past dawn on the second Sunday in June.

With the Governor's Mansion smoking from an arsonist's attack, he barked: "Where the (bleep) is the American-Statesman?"

His holler, intended to nudge the paper to the scene, sat me straight up.

But then, Gov. Rick Perry's spokesman often stirs reporters.

For five-plus years, he arguably has been the state's most quoted unelected official, a run that will end in September when he becomes a consultant.

Just since 2006, more than 1,100 newspaper articles have quoted Black; Perry has been quoted directly in fewer than 700 stories.

Black, 38, grew up in Harper southwest of Austin, where he played quarterback and end on a six-man football team.

As a kid, he expected to practice law or delve into politics. "I could talk my way into, or out of, anything," he said.

The graduate of the University of Texas-San Antonio later realized he didn't have the patience for law.

So he entered the Republican salt mines, holding jobs with state Rep. Tom Craddick, before Craddick was House speaker; Ari Fleischer, before Fleischer was White House press secretary; the Republican Party of Texas; Greg Abbott, before Abbott won election as attorney general; and at the Texas Department of Insurance.

Black credited Fleischer with teaching that a spokesman serves two masters (the officeholder and the press) but needs be loyal to one (the officeholder).

In campaign season, Black said, he follows a fierce philosophy: "If your opponent throws an elbow, you throw a punch. If your opponent throws a punch, you pull out a baseball bat. If your opponent pulls a bat, you pull a knife. If your opponent pulls a knife, you pull a gun.

"There're no points for second place" in politics, Black said.

Black embraces the roar that builds around a governor, though critics say he can disrespect the line ideally separating government from electioneering.

He rarely dodges a chance to jab.

The other day, he referred to failed gubernatorial challenger Carole Keeton Strayhorn, who has reported encouragement to run for mayor of Austin, a job she held in the 1980s. "She's already got a tagline," Black said. "Keep Austin Weird."

Jason Stanford, who managed Democrat Chris Bell's 2006 gubernatorial campaign, remembers Black praising Bell for advocating vaccinations of teenage girls against a form of cervical cancer. Perry later mandated the HPV shots before lawmakers cancelled the plans.

"Very professional," Stanford said of Black, and very good at being a pro-Perry bulldog, even on the night in October 2006 when Perry was the only candidate not to face reporters after a gubernatorial debate.

Peppered with questions about Perry's giddyap from public view, Black glowered after someone asked if the governor was afraid to talk to the press. Not so, he said.

Yet Perry, the state's chief executive since late 2000, never has courted reporters; he hasn't bought into the need.

This year, he entertained a Mississippi boy visiting the Capitol with his parents for more time than he granted any one Texas reporter. Perry lately has given two interviews to Roger Hedgecock, a California-based radio host.

The governor's intentional distance from outside observers helps elevate his press aides. Their words, subbing in, carry clout.

For all the oomph in Black's role, though, he might be remembered best for a goofy turn.

In 2005, Perry said "adios, mofo" after a satellite TV interview in which a reporter tried to wring details from him on his pending school tax proposal.

Perry apologized for the caught-on-camera gaffe. But Black took a hit for supposedly introducing the phrase to Perry a few days earlier while the two watched a televised basketball playoff.

The loyal aide never did snag any "Adios, Mofo" gear that popped up online.

My bet: He'll postpone the buy indefinitely.

wgselby@statesman.com, 445-3644.