More information on an incident in which Weekly Standard reporter John McCormack appears to have been manhandled by a Coakley associate after asking the attorney general an inconvenient question about Afghanistan. (By the bye, McCormack seems to have a way with the lady pols — remember when Dede Scozzafava called the cops on him?).
McCormack has a post up about the affair over at the WS blog. Here’s the gist of it:
As I walked down the street, a man who appeared to be associated with the Coakley campaign pushed me into a freestanding metal railing. I ended up on the sidewalk. I was fine. He helped me up from the ground, but kept pushing up against me, blocking my path toward Coakley down the street.
He asked if I was with the media, and I told him I work for THE WEEKLY STANDARD. When I asked him who he worked for he replied, “I work for me.” He demanded to see my credentials, and even though it was a public street, I showed them to him.
I eventually got around him and met up with the attorney general halfway down the block.
“Attorney General, could I ask you a question please?” I said. “We’re done, thanks,” Coakley replied. She walked back toward the restaurant, apparently searching for her car. She remained silent as I (politely) repeated my question.
Coakley staffers told me they didn’t know who the man was who pushed me, though by every indication he was somehow connected to the campaign.
McCormack also has a better video than the one National Review Online originally posted. If one watches closely beginning at approximately the four-second mark, one can see (and most certainly hear) McCormack make the acquaintance of a steel stanchion and fall to the ground. While it isn’t clear whether he was pushed or how aggressively, the rest of the video speaks for itself. The Coakley associate (one presumes, but unless the man is an especially querulous bystander the conjecture seems safe) forcibly keeps McCormack from getting close enough to Coakley to follow-up on his question, playing the role of the political machine thug to the letter — right down to the mock-sympathetic “are you all right?”
Yeah, be a shame if anything were to happen to you.