Despite all the energy put into it, no one ever wins "the expectations game". It's like having a contest for "best behind-the-scenes preparation" among magicians – if the audience gets to see what's behind the curtain, you've already lost them. Thus, the usual protocol for campaign dialog in the lead-up to events such as debates is a perverse, easily ignored race to the bottom:

"My candidate is going to suck." "No, MY candidate is going to suck." "Your candidate is the best debater in the history of America." "Your candidate is the best debater in the history of the WORLD."

There's been a certain amount of that in the past week. Obama told an audience in Las Vegas, "Governor Romney – he's a good debater. I'm just OK." On Romney's part, the language has been a little more florid, with senior advisor Beth Myers releasing a memo stating, "President Obama is a universally-acclaimed public speaker" with "ample rhetorical gifts".

This kind of "after-you-Alphonse" maneuvering is so expected as to be disregarded. But let's give the Romney campaign this: there is at least one part of the campaign that has recently become totally transparent. Most campaigns simply avoid telegraphing the expectation that their candidate will perform better-than-adequately; on Sunday, the Romney campaign jumped that particular shark by pugnacious New Jersey Governor Chris Christie telling NBC:

"Wednesday night's the restart of this campaign … And I think you're going to see those numbers start to move right back in the other direction."

Announcing, as Christie did, "the entire narrative of this race is going to change" is unusual enough. The Romney campaign, having already proven able to discover impressive new ways for a nomination to blunder (my jaw still involuntarily drops a little when I hear the phrase "47%"), they have now added yet another type of podiatric wound to their catalogue. According to a report in the New York Times on Saturday, Romney's staff "has equipped him with a series of zingers that he has memorized and has been practicing on aides since August."

Already an awkward presence, Romney seems particularly susceptible to the tense stillness and deathless pathos that accompanies a dud punchline. Picturing the forced jocularity around the campaign headquarters has its pleasures, specifically the idea of Mitt trotting out well-worn jokes with the panache of a Catskills stand-up:

"Take my economic policy … please!" "How lazy is half America? So lazy …" "Any car-elevator owners in the audience tonight?"

But there's an awful flipside: my God, what if he actually tries one of them?

Whether you wince or guffaw at the image of Romney attempting and failing to "zing" the president, probably says more about your tolerance for the humiliation of others than your political sensibilities. You'd think covering politics would have inured me to it by now, but in real life, I can't even watch "American Idol". I will view the debate on Wednesday through the spaces between my fingers, with a desk nearby to bang my head against.

OK, there's a chance it'll all work – that Christie will be proven right, that Romney will masterfully compete in a political game of "the dozens" and walk away not just with bragging rights, but with the election in the bag.

And yet …

As I've written before, the Romney campaign's desperation now just makes me sad, and though I have trouble finding anything in his platform I can agree with (indeed, I've had trouble finding his platform, period), I've considered a "pity vote" for the guy. Considering I live in Minnesota, home of the polite smile, that could be the key to him carrying the state (where Obama currently leads by eight points). A little more sympathy, and he could make sure he only loses by five.

Heh-heh, that's all folks! Try the veal.