No one has ever accused President Donald Trump of being understated, so it came as no surprise when his press briefing about the war in Iran on Monday was littered with superlatives.
“We’re winning very decisively,” Trump told the reporters assembled at his private club in Miami. “We’re way ahead of schedule. It’s — our military is the greatest in the world, with the greatest equipment and the greatest people in the world. Nobody’s ever seen anything like it.”
By now, a decade into the Trump era of national politics, this likely doesn’t surprise you. In fact, you can probably hear him saying it in your head, envision him doing his accordion hands. It’s all so familiar, in fact, that you probably skimmed right past what I’d offer is the oddest assertion buried in all of that hyperbole.
The war in Iran, we are told, is “way ahead of schedule.” There’s … a schedule? And we are apparently ahead of it? What?
To understand this, we should talk not about troop deployments in the Middle East or the machinations of multi-starred officers in the Pentagon. Instead, we should talk about a skating rink in Manhattan.
Specifically, a rink that Trump himself talks about a lot: Wollman Rink, in Central Park. Back in the 1980s (as Trump has told crowds at campaign rallies repeatedly), the city of New York was trying to renovate the facility for public use but kept seeing contracts collapse and timelines get obliterated. So, eventually, they hired Trump. And he got it done (imagine the accordion hands here), quickly and inexpensively.
At one point, The New York Times ran a story about city contracts that told the story of Trump’s success — a front-page story, mind you! — which ended with a former official offering tongue-in-cheek advice for getting projects done: “Let Donald Trump build everything.”
As a developer, coming in ahead of schedule was presumably always a focal point of Trump’s efforts, an indicator of success. In the Wollman case, it was also a mark of exceptionality.
“We’re going to deliver the greatest American comeback in history,” he said at a rally that fall. “That’s what we’re doing. And we’re way ahead of schedule.”
In 2015, Trump transitioned into a new field: politics. He announced his candidacy for the Republican presidential nomination, leveraging the business genius persona that had been boosted dramatically by “The Apprentice.” A recurring theme in his pitch? That he brought in projects ahead of schedule.
“It’s going to be incredible. We’re actually under budget and ahead of schedule,” Trump said at an event in Chicago in late June 2015, talking about a development in that city. “Does the government ever say that, ‘under budget and ahead of schedule’?”
Well, not often, since building things is typically a very small part of what the federal government does. But then Trump won the presidency, and suddenly the government was saying it a lot.
Reducing regulations, Trump said about three weeks after he first took office in 2017, was “way ahead of schedule.”
Building a wall on the border with Mexico was “way, way, way ahead of schedule,” he said at a conference a few weeks later. He added one small qualifier: “It’s going to start very soon.”
His administration was “ahead of schedule in so many ways when it comes to education,” he said in March 2017. On reforming veterans care, later that month, Trump said things were moving “I can say honestly ahead of schedule.”
At an event in April 2017, Trump combined his affinity for being ahead of schedule with another of his verbal tics: a refusal to admit that he misspoke.
“I love to hear the words ‘under budget’ and ‘under schedule,’ right?” he said. “We used to call it ‘ahead of schedule.’ Now we say ‘under schedule.’”








