WORSHIPING AT the altar of party unity, Maryland Democrats chose not to challenge Gov. Parris N. Glendening in 1998, though many were deeply unhappy with him. This year, they cleared the field for Lt. Gov. Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, though many of them thought her weak. They feared her campaign accounts and her name.

Republicans would make the same calculations, they thought.

But Rep. Robert L. Ehrlich Jr. saw something else. He would be running in a 2-1 Democratic state -- on paper. He knew the real posture of Maryland voters was far less Democratic.

In Congress, he represented a Baltimore County region of Reagan Democrats. He'd been unbeatable there. He thought the rest of suburban Maryland might respond to him, too.

So when Democrats bent their knees to unity, he smiled. When Ms. Townsend began to run like a beginner, he said: "I'm not surprised. If she were stronger, I wouldn't be in the race."

It sounded cocky. Way cocky. But, as they say in the big leagues, it's not bragging if you can back it up.

He backed it up. Not without luck, though in politics as in life you can make your own luck. Here are some of the dynamics that worked to produce the Ehrlich victory Tuesday:

The dog that didn't bark: When they thought of Ms. Townsend, Democrats assured each other that "Uncle Teddy" -- Sen. Edward M. Kennedy -- would fly to the aid of his niece. It didn't happen, apparently because the Kennedy name turned out to be a handicap. In a sense, it was a dog that couldn't bark.

The culture of Annapolis: You are blessed as a political outsider when your reform mission is endorsed (indirectly) by a U.S. District Court. Judge J. Frederick Motz decried Annapolis and state government as a "culture of corruption." He had just sentenced a lobbyist for scheming to extract fees from a businessman. In an earlier lobbying trial, several hundred members of the Annapolis family showed up in court as character witnesses.

The culture of arrogance: Mr. Glendening tried mightily to arrange a $375,000 post-governorship job for himself. He hoped to become chancellor of the University of Maryland System, a post he might have been qualified to hold. But wouldn't it have been unseemly for the system's regents -- all of whom he had appointed -- to vote him into that cushy job?

"Indispensable destiny": This was Ms. Townsend's initial attempt at explaining why she wanted to run: Everyone should have a chance to reach his or her potential. A noble idea, to be sure. But the words weren't easily explained. And they seemed to suggest that being governor was her destiny.

Yesterdays: Ms. Townsend always seemed to be struggling with last week's problem. Critics thought she was tentative, lacking in leadership presence and flat. Politics is all about communicating.

She did her best -- and worst -- during the campaign's single debate. She learned her lines and delivered them forcefully and with agility, taking advantage of every debating opportunity. She came out like Bruce Lee, full of fury and sharp rhetorical blows.

But in the wider TV world, Mr. Ehrlich seemed a victim of his willingness to debate on the other candidate's turf. People thought he had to worry about attacking her. But the polls gave him a bump -- a hint of the strength he saw in the suburbs. Ms. Townsend's defenders said women are always held to a different standard. Over a lifetime of politics, the best practitioners -- men and women -- learn to modulate their tone, to adjust -- and to speak from the heart.

The Steele factor: Compared with retired Adm. Charles R. Larson, Ms. Townsend's running mate, Republican Michael S. Steele was underqualified. Politically, he was superbly qualified. Tall, gregarious, expansive, Mr. Steele made the admiral look like Mr. Glendening without the charisma. Both men were chosen for political reasons. Duh. Mr. Larson represented Ms. Townsend's effort to separate from Mr. Glendening. That wise effort failed -- because she was instantly forced to explain why she hadn't picked an African-American running mate.

Mr. Steele starred in what one Democrat called the best TV commercial of the campaign: A feel-good glimpse of the Steele family. One melancholy Democrat called it "the Huxtable ad," a reference to the TV show Bill Cosby starred in years ago. In a period when people are sick of negative campaigning, the ad broke through like a ray of sunshine.

No lieutenant governor candidate -- with the possible exception of Ms. Townsend -- ever contributed more to a victory. Mr. Ehrlich could not have predicted the power of the Steele factor, but he put himself in position to profit from it.

C. Fraser Smith is an editorial writer for The Sun. His column appears Sundays.