The Day Marco Rubio Broke the Press Room
It was some of the most fun I’ve had as a White House correspondent
The only thing that could silence a rowdy press corps on Tuesday afternoon was a muffled voice crackling over the briefing room intercom.
“Two minutes until the briefing.”
“SHUSH,” one reporter screamed at the rest. The room went silent. People took out their phones. Everyone pointed at the briefing room doors. No one looked away.
Two minutes later, the door slowly cracked open. Just enough that someone could poke their head through.
Marco Rubio’s face appeared. He had a small smile.
The room erupted.
He walked to the lectern and delivered what has been the talk of Washington ever since.
Marco Rubio has a million jobs. He took on another on Tuesday: White House press secretary.
An hour before the briefing, the James S. Brady Briefing Room was already filling up. My desk sits just outside the doors. Reporters streamed past. Some moving quickly, others pacing, a few stopping to ask whether I was as excited as they were. The energy was different from a normal briefing day.
Rubio filled in for White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt, who was out on maternity leave.
When I finally took my seat, there was no walking room left. I stepped on feet. I passed my coffee over rows of chairs just to get close. In the back of the room, I could barely see Rubio over the thicket of raised hands.
Several minutes into the briefing, things descended — to use Rubio’s own words — into chaos. Every time he finished an answer, reporters screamed his name in unison.
With a chuckle, Rubio would point to a general area of the room. Reporters would then yell over one another and the jockeying would begin, fighting for the next question.
In the back of the room, I kept my hand raised for a majority of the briefing, just trying to catch a glimpse of Rubio’s attention. I waved my hand back and forth. Bounced out of my seat. Even yelled out my name.
Sounds like hell right?
It kind of was. But it was also some of the most fun I’ve had as a White House correspondent. Many of my colleagues, even the stone-cold mainstream media, would tell you the same.
After the briefing, reporters were buzzing. A few laughed over Rubio’s joke about keeping a list of who not to call on. Some caught the moment he slipped rap lyrics into his answer on Iran. One colleague told me they’re normally reserved in the briefing room, but found themselves shouting and jumping out of their seat.
The good mood lasted all day. Even as the White House kept us until 8 p.m., reporters were still chatting about what they’d just witnessed. Rubio fielded hostile questions. It didn’t matter. The tone never broke.
I’ve covered the White House for nearly three years. I’ve never seen the legacy media this happy after a briefing. I’ve never seen a politician disarm them quite like that.
He put them under a spell.