Katie Porter has a Mark Quinn problem.

To win a gubernatorial race, one must rise above the on-paper stats and know how to work the room. The former congresswoman does not.

Back when I covered Major League Baseball for Sports Illustrated, the Kansas City Royals had an outfielder named Mark Quinn. And, on paper, the slugger was everything you’d want in a corner outfielder. Quinn had quick hands, lightning reflexes, a college and minor league resume stuffed with home runs and RBIs. He was one of the organization’s top prospects, and with good reason. As seamheads like to say, Quinn could rake.

Only, well, it never worked out. For all his virtues, Quinn lacked something both unmeasurable but invaluable. Namely, he was kind of insufferable. The Royals manager couldn’t stand him. Teammates found him to be obnoxious. He lacked listening skills. All told, he played portions of four Big League seasons, then faded off into the abyss. Any potential greatness was wiped out by personality.

Which leads me to Katie Porter.

In case you missed it, on Monday Porter announced that she will be running for governor. Like Quinn, on paper her measurables are off the charts. She’s a feisty, edgy, hard-nosed political figure who was rolling along on social media taking it to the douchiest douches of corporate America. I have no doubt JP Morgan's Jamie Dimon still trembles over this exchange from five years ago …

Also, not for nothing, I’m a Katie Porter admirer. Is she a politician? Yes. Does she sometimes go with a dose or two of extra look-at-me flash? No doubt. Was her senatorial campaign misguided and bungled? It was. But as a congresswoman, she seemed to have her constituents’ needs in mind. Plus, greedy assholes hated her. That’s a good sign. Of all the Democrats who have announced their intentions to run (including former state Senate President Pro Tem Toni Atkins, Lt. Gov. Eleni Kounalakis, state Superintendent of Public Instruction Tony Thurmond, former Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and former State Controller Betty Yee), Porter is the top dog. No question.

And yet … there’s a problem. A big one. Like Quinn back in the day, Katie Porter does not read rooms. Those who have been in her presence liken her to a dinosaur marching through a china cabinet—loud, brash, ungraceful. People who’ve attended smaller events (with Porter as the featured guest) have told me she’s … bad. Like, really bad. Awkward. Staggeringly so. Not one to look you in the eye. Uncomfortable as acrylic. In a blistering piece for the Orange County Register beneath the headline, “Character matters. That’s why Katie Porter is unfit for the United States Senate,” Harley Rouda—former Democratic congressman and Porter’s colleague—wrote: “Talk about hypocrisy. Her whiteboard everywoman act is a fake. She is, at heart, an accomplished actor who stages classless photo opps on the House floor.” He added a bit later: “Drama is great for reality TV, but what we desperately need in Washington D.C. is leadership, people who will reach across the aisle to get things done. Not show people like Katie Porter and Marjorie Taylor Greene who use the office as their own personal promotional outlet … she’s no better than a bully. A bully with a white board who is in this for power and her ego.”

Ouch.

To be clear, I’m not here to kill Katie Porter, and say Harley Rouda is right (or wrong). But running for governor of California requires (with rare exception) more than just resume and wonkiness. You have to project … warmth. Optimism. You have to show that you know how to own a press conference, convincingly press the flesh, sell yourself not merely as accomplished, but human.

At this moment, Porter is the undeniable front runner for the gig.

If, however, Kamala Harris enters the race, it’s hers to take.

Why? Because while the former vice president has been damned by many as a run-of-the-mill politician, she can also make a person feel as if they’re the only other entity in her orbit.

She knows how to work the room.