Candidates Are All Wet Kids And Voters Make Politicians Go Into The Tank At Valleyfest

After the initial splash, Central Valley School Board candidate Craig Holmes clawed his way out of the drink.

He wanted to quit right away, and let incumbent county Commissioner George Marlton clock in early.

“It’s real cold,” said Holmes, sporting a long, glittery gold wig and pink shorts. “Bone-chilling cold.”

It was the first sink of Valleyfest’s political candidate dunk-tank spectacle, and it was accomplished by the son of a different county commissioner.

Nick Hasson, 7, didn’t have much to say, but the kid wearing the Batman shirt had a golden arm. He went up and shook the hand of the drenched Raggedy-Andy-goes-to-Vegas impersonator.

For $1, people got three chances to soak the candidate of their choice. The money went toward funding Valleyfest, held Saturday and today at Terrace View Park. The dunkee earning the most money was promised big exposure by Valleyfest organizers - the candidate or candidates would be mentioned in their very own press release.

The ploy must have worked. All dozen half-hour slots were spoken for, and from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. kids wearing baseball hats tested their pitching skills.

Marlton watched Holmes’ dilemma.

“Mr. Marlton?” asked ballkeep Brannon Zahand, 17, offering Marlton one of the orbs.

Marlton declined the honor. He was still next, though.

Earlier in the week he was in hot water for using offensive sexual references, now he was about to plunge in some very icy water.

Marlton, dressed in black shorts and a white T-shirt with a black long-sleeve shirt underneath, sat on the plank. Zahand suddenly turned from friend to foe.

“Notice that he’s dry,” Zahand yelled, tempting the crowd of about 30 onlookers. “You can be the first to get him wet!”

Derek Whitton, 12, tried and missed. “Up higher, Derek,” someone called. Nope. Two more misses.

His 11-year-old friend, Zach Taylor, met the challenge on his first try. Ker-splash! Marlton climbed back aboard his perch. “Th-the kid’s good,” he said.

Zach wasn’t done yet.

“Is that the same kid?” said Marlton, a little panic in his voice. “Two more balls?”

The boy missed, but when he started to leave a guy in the crowd handed him another dollar. He didn’t know the boy, the man said. He just wanted a replay.

Derek and Zach were formidable opponents, Little League sluggers. But why dunk the commissioner?

“It’s cool!” they replied together in Beavis-and-Butthead chorus.

“We gotta get more money, and we’ll try again,” Derek said.

Someone in the crowd asked Marlton who those cannon-arms worked for.

“The Spokesman-Review,” he answered.

Not so. But the youths were unforgiving. A kid in the crowd yelled, “Get ‘im! He deserves it!”

“See? They heard,” a woman spectator whispered to a companion.

Bill Gertson, an adult, was next. Three misses.

Later a big, tattooed guy tried, hurling the balls with great force. “No-no-no!” cried Marlton. It was OK, though the balls were missiles, but they turned out to be duds.

After his 30 minutes of water aerobics, a relieved Marlton started to climb out of the tank.

Just then, the announcer sprung to life.

“I hate to do this to ya,” Zahand said as he leapt for the dunk button, sending Marlton in one last time.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo