Trump's coronavirus press conferences have taken a weird turn

Well, that didn’t last long.

Donald Trump just couldn’t do it. Put another way, Donald Trump just has no interest in playing the role of statesman.

The chaos he so vehemently – and, tellingly, defensively – denies exists at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue returned in a big (or, in Trumpian verbiage, bigly) way.

The former reality television star’s Friday press briefing on the coronavirus devolved into a battle royale the likes of which have not been seen since the height of the professional wrestling craze of the 1990s.

All that was missing was Sting dropping in on a zipline from atop the James Brady briefing room and taking his signature black baseball bat to a reporter (in a choreographed, not-actually-violent way, of course). Or perhaps “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan could have ended the press conference with his signature leg-drop on Peter Alexander while Scott Hall and Kevin Nash held down the NBC News reporter.

Trump essentially decided to transform into “Stone Cold” Steve Austin as he cut promo after promo on reporters, settling scores and launching personal attacks on Friday after he spent much of the week playing the traditional role of President of the United States.

But on Friday, what this correspondent has repeatedly described as “The Trump Show” broadcast a special edition as the number of coronavirus cases continued to rise and his public health team stressed the figure will only continue to climb.

While Anthony Fauci, his top infectious disease official, and other experts again stressed the importance of washing hands and staying six feet apart, Trump confirmed his focus on keeping the COVID-19 death toll – read: body count – low.

Why not focus on the body count if you’re a tough-talking, bombastic president who has become the Pied Piper of the Republican Party while gravitating toward the most extreme idea or phrase?

"There is very low instances of death,” the often eye-poppingly candid POTUS said.

The body-counter-in-chief, during another one of the week’s increasingly wild press conferences, declared himself a “wartime president,” saying the United States is “at war” with COVID-19, which he calls the “invisible enemy.” Plenty of US commanders-in-chief have managed America’s military misadventures around the world by focusing too much on body counts. It’s as American as apple pie, baseball, tackle football, and, well, professional wrestling.

Last weekend, Trump decided to start leading the daily White House virus briefing after his vice president, the more affable Mike Pence, had done so for a few days. The president clearly did not like watching cable news and seeing Pence looking like a pro behind the most powerful lectern in the world.

From Saturday to Wednesday, Trump appeared to grow into the role of crisis manager before our eyes. He was measured, he was serious, he was sober and he was actually informative. When he didn’t have enough information, he either deferred to one of the public health experts behind him or simply declined to comment.

How presidential.

The scene must have had Democrats more than a little nervous, especially because the surreal even-keel Trump appeared at the same time a majority of Americans decided they approved of the way he was handling the crisis.

Then came Thursday. Trump boasted about the economy under his watch, jabbed a few reporters as he blamed the media for this and that, made false statements, and took the bait about China and political correctness from a reporter who accused her colleagues of supporting Chinese government propaganda.

But “The Trump Show” didn’t return until Friday when NBC’s Alexander unnerved the president with this question: “What do you say to Americans who are watching you right now who are scared?”

“I say that you're a terrible reporter. That's what I say,” he shot back angrily.

When Alexander tried again, the president cut a promo that, depending on which political tribe you claim, was either one of a heel or anti-hero – a la Hogan or Austin back in the ‘90s.

“I think that's a very nasty question and I think it's a very bad signal that you're putting out to the American people. The American people are looking for answers and they're looking for hope and you're doing sensationalism and the same with NBC and Comcast,” said the president, whose Apprentice show was not renewed by NBC executives in May 2007.

The president later said he could “call other people out, too” in the media because “this is a time to come together.”

“But coming together is much harder when we have dishonest journalists. It's a very important profession that you are in. It is a profession that I think is incredible. I cherish it,” he said. “But when people are dishonest, they truly do hurt our country.”

Translation: Coming together means halting all critical thinking about my policies, words and actions.

Trump just cannot handle any of those three things. It’s why he pulled the plug on daily briefings in the first place, turning the White House briefing room into a glorified storage facility.

So it was fitting on the day Trump reverted to his professional wrestling-like “Captain Chaos” gimmick that Sean Spicer, a man who is as responsible for breaking the daily White House press briefing as Trump or Sarah Huckabee Sanders, suddenly appeared on camera to ask his former boss a question.

(One could hear the fictional announcer scream: "What in the hell is he doing here?!”)

They worked very closely together. They talked multiple times per day. Yet, on Friday, they kept up what pro wrestlers call “kayfabe,” meaning they stayed in character, by never acknowledging one another in one of the most surreal moments this correspondent has witnessed during his more than four years at the White House.

“We're making a lot of progress,” Trump said as he wrapped up Friday’s 93-minute briefing. “And we'll see you folks tomorrow.”

If you squinted really hard, you could almost see him toss the microphone across the ring and raise his championship belt – with a giant presidential seal, of course — in the air. A heel’s heel, that president, if there ever was one.