How would you feel about getting a dream gig only to see it end in disgrace because of, well, you?
That’s what Gregory Bovino gets to think about for the rest of his life. Friday is the Border Patrol lifer’s last day on the job after 30 years — and he ain’t leaving because he wants to.
For the past year, the self-described “hillbilly” was the personification of the Trump administration’s xenophobic deportation deluge. Helicopter invasions of apartment complexes, tear gas canisters thrown into large crowds, defying court orders, glamorous photo shoots: There was no municipality too big, no tactic too crazy, no quote too incendiary for Bovino to take on while he treated immigrant neighborhoods like the shores of Normandy.
The North Carolina native’s caravan of cruelty quickly earned him a promotion from El Centro sector chief to Border Patrol commander at large, a new position crafted just for him. He embraced the role of migra bogeyman like a tween boy scarfing down a bowl of Warheads, always promising more deportations, more chaos, more more.
Not anymore.
In January, Border Patrol agents shot and killed ICU nurse Alex Pretti during a protest against them a few weeks after an Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer did the same to Renée Good, a mother of three. Bovino threw napalm on the matter by claiming Pretti wanted to “massacre law enforcement” without offering any evidence. The incidents so soured the public on immigration agents that a Public Religion Research Institute poll released this week showed only 35% of Americans surveyed approved of how Trump is handling immigration, compared to 48% a year ago.
Bovino was sent back down to El Centro and lost his social media privileges, where he had long posted cringe-inducing videos about what a swell guy he was. Even Trump turned on his migra man, telling Fox News that Bovino was “a pretty out-there kind of a guy … and in some cases that’s good. Maybe it wasn’t good [in Minneapolis].”
I should’ve warned Bovino the one time we met that failure was his fate.
Dressed in full Border Patrol uniform complete with a clipped-on walkie-talkie on his shoulder, the guy was billing himself as a modern-day Charles Martel defending the homeland from invading infidels. The nasal-voiced Bovino rambled to Michaelson about how “Ma and Pa America” deserved a country free from undocumented immigrants and vowed to remain in Los Angeles “until the operation is over.”
Then-U.S. Border Patrol commander at large Gregory Bovino, center, along with Border Patrol agents as they march to the Edward R. Roybal Federal Building after a show of force outside the Japanese American National Museum where Gov. Gavin Newsom was holding a redistricting press conference on Aug. 14, 2025, in Los Angeles.
(Carlin Stiehl / Los Angeles Times)
After his interview, Bovino and three Border Patrol agents strolled into the greenroom to grab some homemade cookies while I sat on a couch. He looked me in the eye while bending down to sign Michaelson’s guest book, as if he expected me to not only recognize him but say something.
It was like staring at someone doing an impersonation that was one part Lt. Col. Kilgore from “Apocalypse Now” and two parts Henery Hawk, the short, brash Looney Tunes character that was always trying to capture the much larger Foghorn Leghorn. He really thought that his scorched-earth assault on L.A. would defeat the city and convince other communities to offer no pushback once Bovino’s self-titled “Green Machine” trolled into town.
The opposite happened.
People who had never bothered with politics — even some who voted for Trump or at least agreed with deporting immigrants with criminal convictions — rose up to resist. Everywhere became a front — social media, the streets, courtrooms — and activists across Southern California began to share notes among themselves and with communities nationwide to prepare them for la migra. Bovino flailed back at every affront instead of focusing on his mission, not realizing his recklessness was eroding public support for his cause and threatening it altogether.
That’s when he convinced the Trump administration to send a skeptical National Guard alongside his men to surround the historic L.A. green space in the ludicrously named Operation Excalibur. Armed vehicles parked on Wilshire Boulevard. A grinning Bovino strutted around with media in tow. A wannabe cavalry unit, anchored in the center by an agent on a white horse, swept through a soccer field where children were attending day camp just minutes before.
No one was arrested or detained that day. Instead, Bovino left to a chorus of cuss words and boo birds. The exercise allowed Americans to see the folly of burning millions of taxpayer dollars just so someone could star in a TikTok reel. It also broke the spell Bovino had cast over many critics — myself included — who had feared he truly was an unstoppable Punisher.
Nah, he was just a spiky-haired pendejo.
If Bovino was as smart as he thinks he is, he would’ve followed the longtime strategy of another longtime immigration enforcer. Trump border czar Tom Homan executed a yearslong roundup under the Obama administration with numbers Trump has yet to reach and with nowhere near as much public rancor. Homan, who loves the camera almost as much as Bovino, knew then and now that an issue as explosive as deportations must be approached quietly if it’s to be done successfully.
Instead, not only does he have to clean up Bovino’s mess, there’s now a real chance that the Republicans will lose the midterms because of Latinos who voted for Trump in 2024 but are now furious at his administration. That’s why even Trump is now telling Republicans to tone down their anti-immigrant rhetoric, stat.
Gracias, Bovino!
You thought you would go down in U.S. history as a domestic Patton, a borderlands Sherman. Instead, your last week coincided with the publication of a New York Times profile of you railing at enemies while downing coffee at a burger bar in El Centro.
You called Customs and Border Protection commissioner Rodney Scott “weak-kneed,” mocked Homan and said you could’ve deported 100 million people — a radically racist number considering even the Center for Immigration Studies, which has long pushed for reduced immigration of all kinds, estimated a record 15.4 million illegal immigrants were in this country at the start of Trump’s second term.
Instead, you’re heading off to the Tar Heel State to spend your days hunting… coyotes.
“Maybe I get me some dogs and we go hard,” you told the New York Times. “I’ll take it in my own hands.”
Which reminds me of another hapless cartoon character who thought himself a genius but who kept screwing things up in ceaseless pursuit of his quarry: Wile E. Coyote.
Commentary: Goodbye, Border Patrol bogeyman Gregory Bovino, and good riddance
How would you feel about getting a dream gig only to see it end in disgrace because of, well, you?
That’s what Gregory Bovino gets to think about for the rest of his life. Friday is the Border Patrol lifer’s last day on the job after 30 years — and he ain’t leaving because he wants to.
For the past year, the self-described “hillbilly” was the personification of the Trump administration’s xenophobic deportation deluge. Helicopter invasions of apartment complexes, tear gas canisters thrown into large crowds, defying court orders, glamorous photo shoots: There was no municipality too big, no tactic too crazy, no quote too incendiary for Bovino to take on while he treated immigrant neighborhoods like the shores of Normandy.
The North Carolina native’s caravan of cruelty quickly earned him a promotion from El Centro sector chief to Border Patrol commander at large, a new position crafted just for him. He embraced the role of migra bogeyman like a tween boy scarfing down a bowl of Warheads, always promising more deportations, more chaos, more more.
Not anymore.
In January, Border Patrol agents shot and killed ICU nurse Alex Pretti during a protest against them a few weeks after an Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer did the same to Renée Good, a mother of three. Bovino threw napalm on the matter by claiming Pretti wanted to “massacre law enforcement” without offering any evidence. The incidents so soured the public on immigration agents that a Public Religion Research Institute poll released this week showed only 35% of Americans surveyed approved of how Trump is handling immigration, compared to 48% a year ago.
Bovino was sent back down to El Centro and lost his social media privileges, where he had long posted cringe-inducing videos about what a swell guy he was. Even Trump turned on his migra man, telling Fox News that Bovino was “a pretty out-there kind of a guy … and in some cases that’s good. Maybe it wasn’t good [in Minneapolis].”
I should’ve warned Bovino the one time we met that failure was his fate.
The setting: the Fox 11 Los Angeles studios in July. Bovino and I were in to do separate interviews with the station’s former anchor Elex Michaelson. Bovino was in the middle of his Los Angeles invasion, which saw immigration agents lay siege to MacArthur Park, storm Home Depots and car washes and show up outside the Japanese American National Museum while politicians inside were decrying Trump.
Dressed in full Border Patrol uniform complete with a clipped-on walkie-talkie on his shoulder, the guy was billing himself as a modern-day Charles Martel defending the homeland from invading infidels. The nasal-voiced Bovino rambled to Michaelson about how “Ma and Pa America” deserved a country free from undocumented immigrants and vowed to remain in Los Angeles “until the operation is over.”
Then-U.S. Border Patrol commander at large Gregory Bovino, center, along with Border Patrol agents as they march to the Edward R. Roybal Federal Building after a show of force outside the Japanese American National Museum where Gov. Gavin Newsom was holding a redistricting press conference on Aug. 14, 2025, in Los Angeles.
(Carlin Stiehl / Los Angeles Times)
After his interview, Bovino and three Border Patrol agents strolled into the greenroom to grab some homemade cookies while I sat on a couch. He looked me in the eye while bending down to sign Michaelson’s guest book, as if he expected me to not only recognize him but say something.
It was like staring at someone doing an impersonation that was one part Lt. Col. Kilgore from “Apocalypse Now” and two parts Henery Hawk, the short, brash Looney Tunes character that was always trying to capture the much larger Foghorn Leghorn. He really thought that his scorched-earth assault on L.A. would defeat the city and convince other communities to offer no pushback once Bovino’s self-titled “Green Machine” trolled into town.
The opposite happened.
People who had never bothered with politics — even some who voted for Trump or at least agreed with deporting immigrants with criminal convictions — rose up to resist. Everywhere became a front — social media, the streets, courtrooms — and activists across Southern California began to share notes among themselves and with communities nationwide to prepare them for la migra. Bovino flailed back at every affront instead of focusing on his mission, not realizing his recklessness was eroding public support for his cause and threatening it altogether.
Really, Bovino lost the day he has long claimed as a victory: the Battle of MacArthur Park.
That’s when he convinced the Trump administration to send a skeptical National Guard alongside his men to surround the historic L.A. green space in the ludicrously named Operation Excalibur. Armed vehicles parked on Wilshire Boulevard. A grinning Bovino strutted around with media in tow. A wannabe cavalry unit, anchored in the center by an agent on a white horse, swept through a soccer field where children were attending day camp just minutes before.
No one was arrested or detained that day. Instead, Bovino left to a chorus of cuss words and boo birds. The exercise allowed Americans to see the folly of burning millions of taxpayer dollars just so someone could star in a TikTok reel. It also broke the spell Bovino had cast over many critics — myself included — who had feared he truly was an unstoppable Punisher.
Nah, he was just a spiky-haired pendejo.
If Bovino was as smart as he thinks he is, he would’ve followed the longtime strategy of another longtime immigration enforcer. Trump border czar Tom Homan executed a yearslong roundup under the Obama administration with numbers Trump has yet to reach and with nowhere near as much public rancor. Homan, who loves the camera almost as much as Bovino, knew then and now that an issue as explosive as deportations must be approached quietly if it’s to be done successfully.
Instead, not only does he have to clean up Bovino’s mess, there’s now a real chance that the Republicans will lose the midterms because of Latinos who voted for Trump in 2024 but are now furious at his administration. That’s why even Trump is now telling Republicans to tone down their anti-immigrant rhetoric, stat.
Gracias, Bovino!
You thought you would go down in U.S. history as a domestic Patton, a borderlands Sherman. Instead, your last week coincided with the publication of a New York Times profile of you railing at enemies while downing coffee at a burger bar in El Centro.
You called Customs and Border Protection commissioner Rodney Scott “weak-kneed,” mocked Homan and said you could’ve deported 100 million people — a radically racist number considering even the Center for Immigration Studies, which has long pushed for reduced immigration of all kinds, estimated a record 15.4 million illegal immigrants were in this country at the start of Trump’s second term.
Instead, you’re heading off to the Tar Heel State to spend your days hunting… coyotes.
“Maybe I get me some dogs and we go hard,” you told the New York Times. “I’ll take it in my own hands.”
Which reminds me of another hapless cartoon character who thought himself a genius but who kept screwing things up in ceaseless pursuit of his quarry: Wile E. Coyote.
Source link