Those who’ve watched Pence closely and covered him over the years see a man who has repeatedly fumbled balls both easy and difficult—not only flubbing his response to RFRA, but also tripping over plans to announce Just IN, an oddly conceived taxpayer-funded state news service that was quickly dubbed “Pravda on the Plains.” The story dripped, dripped, dripped in local, state and national media outlets until Pence finally scuttled plans for the outlet. They also see a wounded politician who has been booed riding in Indy 500 parades, throwing out first pitches minor league baseball games, and even as he walked into the tony Columbia Club on Monument Circle on Tuesday ahead of a high-dollar Trump fundraiser.

Pence’s gubernatorial and congressional records are far thinner than they look. In private conversations, former aides to his predecessor Mitch Daniels jokingly call him the “press release governor.” Among social conservatives, his stock has been falling since last spring, when they say “he wilted in the heat” following RFRA. And in the last three-and-a-half years in the governor’s office, Pence has proved far more effective at attracting flak than repelling it—a trend that may be a harbinger for a rocky ride as Trump’s running mate.

If every transaction Trump does is a deal, it’s very clear what Mike Pence gets out of this one: The VP slot allows him a dignified exit from a reelection fight he was at risk of losing, and puts him one chair away from a job he’s been eying most of his life. On Friday morning around 11 a.m., an aide withdrew Pence’s name from the November ballot. It’s not clear at all, though, that Trump is getting the better end of the bargain.