On December 8, 2025, exactly one hour before the filing deadline, Rep. Jasmine Crockett lit the fuse: she’s running for John Cornyn’s U.S. Senate seat. Colin Allred had just chickened out and crawled back to his House district, leaving Crockett and some Austin preacher named James Talarico to slug it out in the Democratic primary.
Cute announcement video, lots of viral clips of Trump calling her low-IQ, and a sassy “let’s get it, Texas” vibe. The internet had a field day. Good luck with that.
Here’s the cold, hard truth: she’s about to get absolutely steamrolled, twice.
First, the Democratic primary is already a knife fight. Talarico’s been running for a year, has millions banked, and plays the earnest young progressive preacher who can quote scripture and TikTok in the same breath. Crockett jumped in at the absolute last second because her own House seat got redistricted into oblivion.
That looks desperate, not strategic. Texas Dems love drama, but they hate losers, and a March primary followed by a near-certain May runoff will drain both candidates dry while Republicans pop popcorn and save their ammo.
Now the big one: statewide Texas. Let’s not sugarcoat it. No Democrat has won a Senate seat here since 1988, and the last statewide win of any kind was 1994. Trump just carried the state by double digits again. Cornyn’s been in office since Moses wore short pants, has a billion dollars’ worth of donor relationships, and projects that calm “adult in the room” energy suburban moms pretend to like. Even if he has to bleed a little in a primary against Ken Paxton or whoever, he’s still walking into November with a war chest the size of Dallas.
Crockett’s entire brand is viral applause and owning the Republicans on cable news. That plays great in her deep-blue Dallas district and on your phone screen. It plays like nails on a chalkboard in Lubbock, Amarillo, the Woodlands, or any place with a feed store.
The second the general election ads start, every soundbite of her torching MTG or calling half the state deplorable gets turned into 30-second spots with ominous music and grainy footage. Texans already decided they don’t like loud, coastal-style progressives; they proved it with Beto twice and Allred once.
She’ll raise a ton of ActBlue money from people in California and New York who think she’s the next big thing. That cash will disappear into TV ads that change exactly zero votes outside of Travis and Harris counties.
By November 2026 she’ll be lucky to crack 42%, and that’s the optimistic scenario.
Bottom line: Jasmine Crockett is stupidly brave, clownish charismatic, and about to become the latest sacrificial lamb on the altar of Texas’s bright red map. She’ll get a few more million followers, a book deal, and a permanent slot on whatever MSNBC is calling itself by then.
But the Senate? Not happening. This rocket is launching straight up, sparkling for a minute, then coming right back down in a pile of burnt-out parts somewhere over the Panhandle.
Better luck next cycle, Congresswoman. Texas just ain’t it.
