Nobody asked me but I’ll say it anyway: Democrats need to find themselves a good sport for their top candidates to play so we don’t only see them standing at lecterns and lecturing about injustice and climate change and the danger plastics pose to porpoises. Hillary and Kamala could’ve beaten the yahoo if they’d only been a little less wonky, not so Brightest Girl in the Whole Class, more good-timey, with a joke at the ready, less First Class Girl Scout of the Year, more All-Around Best Friend. Either of them would’ve looked great on horseback but young brainy girls like them thought horseback riding was for debutantes. Wrong.

Golf is no good, an enormous waste of public land and an antisocial game that instills self-loathing in its practitioners. But a smart well-spoken woman in jeans and denim jacket on a handsome horse trotting through the woods, jumping a ditch, breaking into a gallop, her hair flying, says a lot about leadership and self-confidence.

Bowling would’ve been good too, the three strides, the swing, the rumble of the ball, the crash of the pins. Someone should’ve taught Hubert Humphrey to bowl. The man had no sport to speak of, not even ping-pong. A strike, Hubert leaping in the air, pumping his fist, the shout of “Yes!” and we’d have been spared Richard Nixon.

There is only so much hectoring about policy that we voters can tolerate and then it’s time to move on. Schumer at the lectern, peering over his spectacles, warning about grim consequences — Sanders predicting cataclysm — Pelosi denouncing corrupt deeds — the fact is that church attendance has been declining for decades and moral condemnation doesn’t have the traction it once did. If a close warm personal relationship with a convicted child molester isn’t enough to outrage people, it’s time to be positive and find a Democrat who looks good at the rudder of a sailboat.

That was JFK’s ticket, plus good looks and a handsome head of hair blowing in the wind. Yes, maybe you suspected he was a womanizer, which Nixon obviously wasn’t, but Americans admire yachtsmanship, it being a skill claimed by so few.

Carter was a runner, which was fine until he overdid it running a six-mile race and collapsed in full public view, the leader of the free world lying pale, semiconscious, looking like death on toast, which left him vulnerable to Reagan who looked good on a horse thanks to his acting experience at Warner Bros.

Democrats are susceptible to the goody-goody stereotype. They take themselves too seriously and come off as pretentious prudes. Not a good look. Obama was the exception. He wasn’t afraid to play basketball in public and he looked good. He turned the White House tennis court into a basketball court for pick-up games. He was the real deal. He also knew how to be really funny.

Al Gore was a handsome guy, good military record, but the yammering about climate change and making people feel guilty for using baggies and plastic wrap gave us eight years of the Shrub during which the government sat and twiddled its thumbs. Al should’ve taken up rock climbing and wilderness hiking, grilling venison over an open fire, drinking a Bud, telling dirty jokes. But no, he lectured his head off and we elected the frat boy.

Walter Mondale was a very nice man and a fisherman but not a fly fisherman, just a guy in a boat with a fishing rod and a bobber. And his dad was a minister and so Walter sounded like he was just about to recite the Beatitudes and dive into prayer.

People mention Pete Buttigieg as a presidential possibility and face it, a gay man needs to start thinking about a sport pronto. Hunting would be fine. The current guy, Mr. Queens, never shot a gun, had a dog, or told a joke, which leaves a lot of masculine territory open for Pete. Rural America sees Democrats as the party of Bridge & Backgammon, and if Pete and his husband went to Montana and bagged a grizzly, it’d be a darned good start.

Stay away from clothing in colors that say “gay” — go for red plaid shirts. Short-haired dogs. Take the road untaken by Democrats and have a good time where people can see it. And don’t talk about diversity; talk about adversity, the bear coming at you out of the tree, you raised the rifle, snapped it off Safety, blew the bastard’s brains out. That’s the road to victory.

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