The fall of Jay Collins

There hasn’t been a denial this cold since Peter dissed Jesus.

While there was no rooster crowing, Gov. Ron DeSantis has, at least so far, denied Lt. Gov. Jay Collins. And unlike Peter’s denial of Jesus, it’s an ongoing thing, and it’s doubtful there will be any weeping in the street over it.

To be clear, the “at least so far” caveat in the previous paragraph is kind of moot. Even if DeSantis were to pull an about-face now, it’s likely too late, and Collins’ gubernatorial hopes appear dashed.

Talk about a fall from grace.

Collins went from first-term state Senator to Lieutenant Governor and, presumptively at first, DeSantis’ preferred successor practically overnight. Almost as quickly, he now seems destined for political oblivion, with next to no chance at the Governor’s Mansion and no legislative seat for which to return.

It was only a little more than three months ago when, after naming him his No. 2, DeSantis described Collins as “the Chuck Norris of Florida politics.” It seemed an apt descriptor for an Army Special Forces veteran who earned a Bronze Star, a Purple Heart, and a Legion of Merit award and who continued serving despite losing a leg.

It’s the kind of badass military record that would make even Chuck Norris feel lacking.

Yet DeSantis has continued to avoid endorsing his Lieutenant Governor as his preferred successor, despite DeSantis’ clear disdain for the current GOP front-runner, U.S. Rep. Byron Donalds.

Just this week, when asked if he would get involved in the race to replace him, DeSantis demurred, saying simply, “we’ll see.”

I don’t know who this says more about — Collins, who can’t get the endorsement, or DeSantis, who isn’t propping up his own LG.

But however it makes DeSantis look, it’s worse for Collins. It was only August when a gubernatorial bid seemed an absolute certainty. Yet he still hasn’t announced, and it’s not entirely clear that he’s going to.

When Peter denied Jesus, it’s understood that it was a mix of weakness and fear. While DeSantis is Peter in this exercise, it is perhaps Collins who is gripped with weakness and fear.

Fear that he’s polling in single digits. Fear that he can’t raise the funds needed to compete. Weakness that he’s not jumping in anyway.

After all, to raise funds you need support. But to earn support you need to raise funds. Chicken, egg. Which came first?

Collins could take a gamble, much like former House Speaker Paul Renner, who, despite also not earning DeSantis’ nod, has predicted he will eventually. The gamble here being, “if you build it, they will come.” But he’s not building it, and they’re not coming.

One has to wonder if the relationship between Collins and DeSantis has soured. As Florida Politics reporter Jacob Ogles uncovered shortly after the Lieutenant Governor’s appointment, Collins once agreed with a lawmaker that DeSantis is on the autism spectrum. While there was plenty of backpedaling, DeSantis’ famously thin skin probably didn’t absorb the shock of such an admission very well.

In any case, a star seems to have fallen. And there’s no denying that.