In other news, in honor of the Tampa Bay Rays’ 13-0 start, the American League has declared the regular season over and awarded the team the 2023 pennant. The Rays now await a World Series opponent to emerge from the unnecessarily messy National League.

I mean, really. 

Jamelle Bouie, the New York Times columnist whose insights into the Republican mind are legendary, was first out with this dive into the abundantly premature.

DeSantis has to find an avenue of attack on the former president and actually take the shot, knowing that he could alienate legions of Republican voters in the process. He has to somehow persuade Trump supporters that he could do a better job — more effective and less chaotic — without disparaging Trump to the point where he, DeSantis, is no longer viable. And he has to do all of this before Trump can build steam and roll over him like he did his rivals in the 2016 Republican primary.

The problem for DeSantis is that it might already be too late.

Bouie goes on to cite a variety of recent polls that show Trump with substantial leads over DeSantis among Republican voters.

Well. In the words of the great Jim Murray, you can believe that if you want to.

This just in: It’s April of 2023. Anyone who thinks the matter is already settled, five months before the first GOP presidential debate and three-quarters of a year before Iowa and New Hampshire (more about which in a moment), is severely detached from reality.

Not to be outdone, McClatchy Washington-based newshounds David Catanese and Alex Roarty published Thursday a thoroughgoing dissection of the reported handwringing going on in the pro-DeSantis camp nationally.

Now, even some of the Florida governor’s own early supporters are starting to question his strategy.

In interviews with more than 20 Republican strategists, DeSantis allies and current and former elected officials, many expressed a growing anxiety about DeSantis’ approach, fretting that a politician who started the year with so much momentum is starting to falter before he even formally becomes a presidential candidate.

Their overarching concern: The Florida Republican has already waited too long to launch, leaving him ill-prepared to defend against the former president’s bludgeoning attacks and lagging behind in the type of on-the-ground organizing critical in states with an early nominating contest.

“Politics is about seizing the moment — his moment was in December and January — and the door for the Florida governor is closing with every day that he doesn’t formally launch a campaign,” said Dennis Lennox, a Republican operator who helped organize a letter on behalf of Michigan state GOP lawmakers supporting DeSantis. “DeSantis can win this race, but he needs to get in now.”

Here’s what this really sounds like: Tell me you’re eager to see campaign cash flowing to your bank account without telling me you’re eager to see  campaign cash flowing to your bank account.

Because, really, what else do operatives have to do but, you know, operate? (And get paid, of course.)

Meanwhile, DeSantis sticks — presumably — doggedly to his timetable. Or maybe it’s Casey’s timetable, and that’s perfectly OK. The First Lady of the Sunshine State has flawless instincts.

It’s a simple function of the calendar. Announcing now, before the Florida Legislature has completed its annual springtime labors, would be the ultimate unforced error. As Gary Fineout notes in Friday’s Florida Playbook:

[T]hose in the DeSantis orbit have made it clear: If he runs, as expected, the goal is to beat former President Donald Trump and win Republican primaries. And right now the Legislature is giving him everything he needs to make that happen.

Would Florida’s GOP-dominated Legislature be less likely to continue stuffing DeSantis’ issues-rich mattress if he declared, mid-session, he would see the presidency? Probably not. But lawmakers would be stripped of their plausible deniability, so there’s that.

Along those lines, there’s also this moment of calm rationality in the McClatchy story from former Pennsylvania Congressman Lou Barletta:

“It’s refreshing to see someone who cares about governing but doesn’t care about getting elected to the next office first. And that’s what makes DeSantis different,” Barletta said. “The fact he’s not listening to other people makes me like him even more.”

Meanwhile, DeSantis’ book tour provides cover to be everywhere all at once. Thursday, he was warmly welcomed in so-called Trump Country by Republicans in a pair of Ohio stops. Thursday night, he was back in Tallahassee, signing into law a pro-life bill passed overwhelmingly by the Legislature. Friday morning, he was headed to Virginia to deliver the convocation keynote address and pick up an honorary doctorate at Liberty University; then it was off to New Hampshire, where DeSantis’ appearance at the state GOP’s Amos Tuck dinner sparked (here’s your payoff) a record fundraising windfall. 

But, yeah, he’s soooooo over.

Meanwhile, Florida’s chief executive was ordering relief to flood-plagued Broward County, to the delight of assorted Democrat mayors on the Gold Coast, but which Donald Trump Jr. declared was insufficient. Maybe DeSantis should have been in Fort Lauderdale passing out rolls of Bounty paper towels.

Anyway, the lasting moment in all of this may well be that return to Tallahassee for the near-midnight autograph of the Heartbeat Protection Act.

It’s the second time in two years DeSantis put his name to a bill protecting life in the womb (or limiting abortion access, depending on your point of view). Debate the political merits of this all you want. One thing is certain: DeSantis is not engaged in the activity of someone who intends to paint in pastels on the national stage.

You know, if the occasion should arise. If it’s not — hoo, boy — too late.