The main problem in any democracy is that crowd-pleasers are generally brainless swine who can go out on a stage & whup their supporters into an orgiastic frenzy—then go back to the office & sell every one of the poor bastards down the tube for a nickel apiece.
You’re on some NCAA Division II team and your bus rolls into fucking Bridgeport, Connecticut, on a cold January night and then out comes Manute Bol to swat your weak Division II shit all over the arena all night long. That had to be fun.
Although historians can’t explain it, there was a solid five-year period in the 80s where the most desired look for a woman was “About to blow a truck driver at a Motel 6 for $20 and half a pack of cigarettes.”