Texas Senate Race ERUPTS—Crockett, Celebs, and Chaos on the Left

Paul Riverbank, 1/11/2026Crockett’s Senate bid ignites infighting, celebrity backlash, and big questions for Texas Democrats.

Actor Matt Rogers appeared on “Las Culturistas” with Bowen Yang, and it took just moments for them to challenge not only Crockett’s odds, but the very wisdom of supporting her. Rogers, speaking with the candor that gets applause and groans in equal measure online, mused, “Any time a politician is making it too obviously about themselves, I’m already done.” Then, in what social media quickly seized on, he told listeners: “Don’t waste your money sending to Jasmine Crockett. Do not do it.” The sting wasn’t lost on longtime progressive donors—especially after Rogers invoked the memory of Sara Gideon’s 2020 Senate race flop in Maine.

Yang hardly hesitated. “I must agree,” he said, echoing not just his co-host, but a sense of Democratic fatigue—of candidates hyped as “the one” who, after months of fundraising and Twitter duels, fall short in red state showdowns. That logic, to some ears, sounded less like political realism and more like pre-emptive surrender. If Beto O’Rourke, with his rockstar rallies and near-miss against Ted Cruz, couldn’t pull off a win, how could Crockett?

Backlash came swiftly, almost predictably, but also with a sharpness that’s become its own form of digital muscle memory. Crockett’s defenders didn’t just rebut, they went on the offensive. “F—k Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang,” one fan blasted, announcing a donation to Crockett in defiance. On platforms like X and Instagram, even tertiary players—consultants, other activists—were tagged into the fray as bystanders picked sides with zeal.

Caught in what might politely be called a “teachable moment,” both Rogers and Yang tried some damage control. Rogers, via Instagram, apologized for his tone, reiterating his “respect for Rep. Crockett” and insisting his motives were rooted in strategy, not animus. Yang, keenly aware of his reach, promised to tread more carefully, copping to the fact that commentary, even off-the-cuff, can build or break movements in a heartbeat.

But all this unfolded against another narrative already cresting: Crockett’s emotional congressional speech, a raw moment where she spoke about the killing of Renee Nicole Good, a protester shot during an ICE-related demonstration. Viewers saw Crockett’s voice tremble as she addressed Republican colleagues and asked, “Is there any decency or heart or courage on that side of the aisle?” To some, it was the kind of genuine display of emotion that’s too rare—elected officials as people, shaken by tragedy. Others, less charitable, dismissed it as grandstanding. “Croc tears from Crock,” sneered an online critic. Commentary soon bled into analysis of the ongoing investigation—new angles surfaced in footage, and reports circulated alleging federal agencies’ reticence in releasing evidence.

Before the dust could settle, Crockett’s past interviews and bold remarks were recirculated by critics and skeptics, as if checking off a well-worn playbook: her description of some Trump-voting minorities as having a “slave mentality” in Vanity Fair, her swift labeling of Trump as a “dictator.” None of this is new in high-stakes politics, but in the pressure cooker of a Texas Senate campaign, old words come back with a vengeance.

At the root is an uncomfortable truth that Democrats have argued over in less public forums: With Texas drifting but not quite flipping, are firebrands or pragmatists the better bet? Rogers’ simple appeal—we need a candidate who’s “less defined”—is as much map as mirror for the party. Ambition, ideals, and authenticity—these remain the battleground, not just geography.

For Crockett, the task now is more complicated than out-raising Ted Cruz. Her Senate bid must weather doubt from skeptics within her own party and outmaneuver critics who see every misstep as fatal. The latest controversy spotlights a wider tension: National money, local sentiment, echoes of near-misses, and the question of how many times Texas Democrats can ask for faith before they deliver a win.

It’s a puzzle with no neat solution—an opera of grassroots drama, digital callouts, and the age-old battle over party identity. Come November, it’s anyone’s guess whether Texas will turn a corner or return, once more, to familiar political rhythms. But as Crockett and her supporters know, the only way out is through the noise, not around it.

There’s never a dull moment in Texas politics, but this week, Rep. Jasmine Crockett found herself swept into a storm not of her own making—the sort of viral fracas that seems part performance, part powder keg. This time, it wasn’t only the usual cable news squabbling. The spark? A few tossed-off remarks on a pop culture podcast.Actor Matt Rogers appeared on “Las Culturistas” with Bowen Yang, and it took just moments for them to challenge not only Crockett’s odds, but the very wisdom of supporting her. Rogers, speaking with the candor that gets applause and groans in equal measure online, mused, “Any time a politician is making it too obviously about themselves, I’m already done.” Then, in what social media quickly seized on, he told listeners: “Don’t waste your money sending to Jasmine Crockett. Do not do it.” The sting wasn’t lost on longtime progressive donors—especially after Rogers invoked the memory of Sara Gideon’s 2020 Senate race flop in Maine.Yang hardly hesitated. “I must agree,” he said, echoing not just his co-host, but a sense of Democratic fatigue—of candidates hyped as “the one” who, after months of fundraising and Twitter duels, fall short in red state showdowns. That logic, to some ears, sounded less like political realism and more like pre-emptive surrender. If Beto O’Rourke, with his rockstar rallies and near-miss against Ted Cruz, couldn’t pull off a win, how could Crockett?Backlash came swiftly, almost predictably, but also with a sharpness that’s become its own form of digital muscle memory. Crockett’s defenders didn’t just rebut, they went on the offensive. “F—k Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang,” one fan blasted, announcing a donation to Crockett in defiance. On platforms like X and Instagram, even tertiary players—consultants, other activists—were tagged into the fray as bystanders picked sides with zeal.Caught in what might politely be called a “teachable moment,” both Rogers and Yang tried some damage control. Rogers, via Instagram, apologized for his tone, reiterating his “respect for Rep. Crockett” and insisting his motives were rooted in strategy, not animus. Yang, keenly aware of his reach, promised to tread more carefully, copping to the fact that commentary, even off-the-cuff, can build or break movements in a heartbeat.But all this unfolded against another narrative already cresting: Crockett’s emotional congressional speech, a raw moment where she spoke about the killing of Renee Nicole Good, a protester shot during an ICE-related demonstration. Viewers saw Crockett’s voice tremble as she addressed Republican colleagues and asked, “Is there any decency or heart or courage on that side of the aisle?” To some, it was the kind of genuine display of emotion that’s too rare—elected officials as people, shaken by tragedy. Others, less charitable, dismissed it as grandstanding. “Croc tears from Crock,” sneered an online critic. Commentary soon bled into analysis of the ongoing investigation—new angles surfaced in footage, and reports circulated alleging federal agencies’ reticence in releasing evidence.Before the dust could settle, Crockett’s past interviews and bold remarks were recirculated by critics and skeptics, as if checking off a well-worn playbook: her description of some Trump-voting minorities as having a “slave mentality” in Vanity Fair, her swift labeling of Trump as a “dictator.” None of this is new in high-stakes politics, but in the pressure cooker of a Texas Senate campaign, old words come back with a vengeance.At the root is an uncomfortable truth that Democrats have argued over in less public forums: With Texas drifting but not quite flipping, are firebrands or pragmatists the better bet? Rogers’ simple appeal—we need a candidate who’s “less defined”—is as much map as mirror for the party. Ambition, ideals, and authenticity—these remain the battleground, not just geography.For Crockett, the task now is more complicated than out-raising Ted Cruz. Her Senate bid must weather doubt from skeptics within her own party and outmaneuver critics who see every misstep as fatal. The latest controversy spotlights a wider tension: National money, local sentiment, echoes of near-misses, and the question of how many times Texas Democrats can ask for faith before they deliver a win.It’s a puzzle with no neat solution—an opera of grassroots drama, digital callouts, and the age-old battle over party identity. Come November, it’s anyone’s guess whether Texas will turn a corner or return, once more, to familiar political rhythms. But as Crockett and her supporters know, the only way out is through the noise, not around it.