The Premier could not have scripted it better.
Emerging from the Queenscliff shoreline on a crisp Sydney autumn day, Mike Baird walked hand in hand with his wife Kerryn through the local mums and bubs and the Manly hipsterati.
No more hard hats and fluoro vests, this was Baird country.
Outside the gates of Queenscliff surf club stood Baird senior, Bruce, and the Premier's mother, Judy.
So evident was the effect of the Baird charm that even his former government minister of a father mimicked him.
"My dad thinks that I should get another term," Baird senior joked in his finest Baird junior voice.
The sand-footed teenagers floating around the surf club seemed to think so too, mobbing the Premier for a selfie they'll be able to snapchat for the next four years.
Baird had good reason to be confident as he marched through the entrance of his surf club, every poll had predicted a comfortable Coalition victory, putting Baird within touching distance of achieving twice what his father could not, becoming the leader of NSW.
"You have to learn lessons in politics otherwise you get belted around," said Bruce. "He has matured since he lost his first pre-selection and he has just gotten better and better since then."
But Baird the Premier was in the mood for hubris. "It's going to be a tight race," a mantra he has repeated every single day of the election. "The people of NSW have got two choices: we can keep going forward or start going back."
Baird was in no mood for backpedalling as he forged on past the throng of cameras towards the ballot box.
When the moment came it was there for all the lenses to see, those pearly whites ready to shine again and again on election day, as they did from Padstow to Hurstville to Coogee during his weeks of electioneering.
From the safety of Manly it was on to the shaky territory of East Hills, held by the Liberals by just 0.3 per cent. At Padstow public school toddlers cried and screamed in the Premier's arms about the Liberals prospects in the seat . Undeterred, Baird re-assured them he would be here for another four years.
It was a similar message in Hurstville in the tight seat of Oatley predicted by many to have strong heckler form, but even they were cleaned out by the charm offensive. No words were sworn in anger, only sausages and hugs to see here.
And so the smiling and the waving and the cheering brigade rolled on to Coogee, a tale of cake, cookies and cinnamon muffins. While the electorate may go down to the wire, Baird's personal popularity continued to show – so much so that local candidate Bruce Notley-Smith didn't want to let him go.
All the plaudits did not stop Baird from shooting out a sneaky last-minute text imploring voters to put their trust in him on election eve, including one to his father, Bruce, who simply replied, "good campaign, we're proud of you".
Asked if he planned on sending any more unsolicited texts to voters on Saturday, "only if it helps", responded Baird.
If the optimism of his father and the embrace of his electorate outside the polling centre were anything to go by, no more texts would be required
