Sam’s Back to Play It Again

On his first morning back covering the White House for ABC News, Sam Donaldson and entourage were in full stride to a stand-up on the north lawn Monday when the 63-year-old newsman noticed a blue Lincoln idling near the West Wing entrance.

“Who ya with?” Donaldson beckoned the driver, while his young producer urged him to get ready for a live spot on “Good Morning America.” “Secretary of the Treasury,” came the answer.

“Rubin? Bob Rubin!” said Donaldson, immediately bellowing to no one in particular: “What goes in must come out! We need a portable camera ready when he comes out that door!”

While Donaldson waited to go on air for “GMA”--and while his competitors sipped coffee in their warm cubbyholes near the White House briefing room--he kept watch on the Lincoln, his thick eyebrows dancing at any signs of movement near the car. And while Donaldson was watching for Rubin, half a dozen journalists watched Donaldson for stories on his return to the White House.

Minutes later he was literally running down the driveway--trailed by sprinting reporters and cameramen--to get Rubin emerging from a senior staff meeting. After getting the cautious Treasury secretary to comment on plummeting Asian markets and getting the report on air at 8:30 a.m., Donaldson simply gloated.

“I’m told Secretary Rubin’s car is in the driveway every morning,” he announced to a crowd buzzing around him. “Hee, hee, hee. Not anymore. No way.”

Indeed, the White House briefing room and the shabby warren of small offices used by the media were transformed into a sitcom set Monday as Donaldson bantered with anybody who would listen about his return to Pennsylvania Avenue after a nine-year hiatus.

Several competitors couldn’t resist rolling their eyes overhearing Donaldson talking about ABC’s sure ascent in the ratings now that he and Cokie Roberts, who will again be on Capitol Hill, are refocusing on old beats.

“We’re going to roll over them,” said Donaldson, clearly relishing his own words, “or fall flat on our face. But don’t bet on it.”

After issuing a challenge to his competitors through a Washington Post TV columnist that he’d be showing up at work at 7 a.m. Monday, he arrived at 6 a.m. with enough coffee and doughnuts for an army. He received a range of welcomes, from enthusiastic--White House groundskeepers cheered him, raising trowels and shovels--to groans.

His old friend, CBS’ Bill Plante, who arrived at his usual time, 7:30 a.m., presented Donaldson with a “grande” cup of Starbucks coffee; NBC’s David Bloom, who is 34 and new to the beat, handed him a “short” cup of Starbucks; CNN’s veteran Wolf Blitzer had sent him a pound of coffee.

Only CBS’ Scott Pelley, 40 and also a newcomer, declined both the caffeine challenge and arrival any earlier than 9. “I’m not sure I want to play [Donaldson’s] game,” Pelley said in an interview Sunday. “I’ll be out shooting at 7 or 8, doing my own stories.”

By mid-morning, even Donaldson seemed tired of his network’s shameless promotion of his new assignment, which included full-page ads in several newspapers, four spots on “Good Morning America” and all sorts of other antics.

“We might be overdoing the hype,” he said, unbuttoning his three-button suit jacket. “God knows I love it.”

The expansion of Donaldson’s duties--he’ll continue to co-anchor both “PrimeTime Live” and the Sunday morning talk show “This Week”--is being seen as a move by ABC News Chairman Roone Arledge to use his stable of on-air celebrities to bolster the faltering viewership of “World News Tonight With Peter Jennings.” Once the ratings leader, the newscast has fallen behind “NBC Nightly News” and is being challenged for second by “CBS Evening News.”

Plante, ever the gentleman, said that he is unsure whether Donaldson’s arrival at the White House will help ABC’s ratings but that he hopes it will help other White House-based reporters get more attention.

“Sam draws attention to himself wherever he goes, and maybe he’ll draw more here,” Plante said. “We’re in the sixth year of a presidency in which we have a president casting about for things to do to help his party and his successor. Right now, it’s a little slow.”

Speaking of Donaldson’s sometimes outrageous shtick, as one White House official called it, Mike McCurry, the president’s spokesman, was diplomatic but frank. “Even I feel like I’ve been falling asleep during the briefings lately,” he said, laughing but quickly adding that “the tone and temperament” of White House coverage has changed since Donaldson left in the late 1980s. “Sam may or may not find his is the way to cover this White House.”

Donaldson made a name for himself during 11 years covering the administrations of Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan as well as doing live reporting in Panama and Saudia Arabia. He has long been known as a sharp reporter, skilled both at asking the important question of the day of a president and at shouting uncomfortable questions over the noise of White House helicopters.

Donaldson is also known as annoying and loud, sometimes embarrassing his colleagues by voicing personal remarks about politicians.

Several current White House correspondents, although speaking of Donaldson with admiration, were curious if the deft operatives at the White House would end up making Donaldson look blustery, if not foolish--although not too foolish, since he does host an influential Beltway show.

“Times have changed since Sam left here,” said one scribe, who asked to remain anonymous because he was afraid to take on the network star. “Sam’s obsessive need for attention just might not work with the Clinton crowd.”

Donaldson, a Texas native, has had to grow accustomed to criticism. He was heavily denigrated by media critics in the early 1990s for charging as much as $30,000 for speaking to business groups and for accepting $97,000 in federal mohair payments for his New Mexico ranch. Donaldson has defended his right to the sheep subsidy and the speaking fees just the way he handled himself Monday under the spotlight: with levity, bravado and, in his unique deep baritone, with acid candor.

After surviving a serious cancer operation three years ago, Donaldson said, he has learned to embrace even the most difficult charges and challenges--like trying to anchor two shows at the same time he is supposed to be covering one of the most coveted beats in journalism, the White House. (Certainly he has the energy: During a high-profile New Year’s Eve party two weeks ago, Donaldson was seen dancing to 1960s rock ‘n’ roll with Secretary of State Madeleine Albright.)

“I think it’s remarkable that the management of this company would make me a co-anchor and [assign me to] cover so high-profile a beat when the cancer could come back,” he said. “And because of the way they’re treating me, I want to give it my all.”

Quickly, he deepened his tone to the almost caricature voice of a television newsman: “Someone recently said to me, ‘You know, Sam, you don’t have to make all the trips with the president.’ But I say, you don’t make the trips, you don’t cover the beat. You can’t mail it in in our business. No way. No way.”