Googling Your Copyright

Memo to whoever is in charge of google: shut the fuck up.

To quote:

A trademark is a word, name, symbol or device that identifies a particular company's products or services. Google is a trademark identifying Google Inc. and our search technology and services. While we're pleased that so many people think of us when they think of searching the web, let's face it, we do have a brand to protect, so we'd like to make clear that you should please only use "Google" when you’re actually referring to Google Inc. and our services.

Here are some hopefully helpful examples.

Usage: 'Google' as noun referring to, well, us.
Example: "I just love Google, they're soooo cute and cuddly and adorable and awesome!"
Our lawyers say: Good. Very, very good. There's no question here that you're referring to Google Inc. as a company. Use it widely, and hey, tell a friend.

Usage: 'Google' as verb referring to searching for information on, um, Google.
Example: "I googled him on the well-known website Google.com and he seems pretty interesting."
Our lawyers say: Well, we're happy at least that it's clear you mean searching on Google.com. As our friends at Merriam-Webster note, to "Google" means "to use the Google search engine to find information about (as a person) on the World Wide Web."

Usage: 'Google' as verb referring to searching for information via any conduit other than Google.
Example: "I googled him on Yahoo and he seems pretty interesting."
Our lawyers say: Bad. Very, very bad. You can only "Google" on the Google search engine. If you absolutely must use one of our competitors, please feel free to "search" on Yahoo or any other search engine.

Hey, thanks, Google!

You want to know why people hate lawyers? This is why. If anyone you ever knew used this syntax: "I googled him on the well-known website Google.com and he seems pretty interesting," I think you'd be morally justified in punching him in the neck.

Hey, protect your copyright. But when you act like a bunch of arrogant pricks, giving the rest of the internet a style guide on how to use what is essentially an accepted slang term, it's just begging me to use yahoo instead. Also, if you're going to be a gigantic ass about your copyright, perhaps you shouldn't steal Yahoo's "Do You Yahoo?" slogan. Because you kind of lose the moral high ground.

Besides, the common usage of Band-Aid and Coke haven't exactly damaged those businesses. It's reasons like this I'm never going into intellectual property. The moment someone asked me to sue somebody for their use of the word google is pretty much the same day I start looking for a new job.

Baylor football virgin

Went to my first Baylor game yesterday. Some random observations:

- The inflatable mascot is creepy.* He walks around like Frankenstein, but his big smiling head just bops up and down with the breeze. It's like being trapped in an absurdist zombie movie.

- There were a lot of Aggie fans. I mean, a lot. And they are all bizarrely cultish. Though, I have to admit, their band is pretty cool.

- I was told afterwards I should have gone to the George's tent. Is that like the regular George's in that it is bar in which I can't purchase liquor and it closes freakishy early?

- Baylor has a pretty good passing offense. The coach was obsessed with establishing the run, even in the fourth quarter when it was apparent to everyone that Baylor isn't exactly a power run team. Because, apparently, it's still 1965.

- Floyd Casey is not built to hold 50,000 fans. I think I accidentally killed someone in the melee at the half in my quest to get a Chick-Fil-A sandwich.

- I am the proud owner of a Growl Towel. I have no idea what to do with it. I am open to suggestions.

- Baylor fans are pretty quiet. Even during a really close game. Get loud, people. It's a football game.

All in all, a good time. I'll probably go back. But I'm not going with an Aggie fan.

*Ed. Note -- Actually, I think all mascots are creepy. There is a horror movie waiting to happen here, with these silent, smiling, fuzzy creatures going on a mad killing spree. It keeps me up night.

The Eck

It's my last chance to talk about baseball, and since its either that or talking about Finals... I'm going with baseball. I promise there will be no statutory construction.

Last night, the Cardinals became the seventh team in seven years to win the World Series, thereby proving everyone who bitches about baseball's competitive balance is full of crap. This is not only the longest active streak in any sport of consecutive years without a team winning two titles, it would be the longest such streak of any sport. Except baseball itself. Because from 1978-1987, baseball went 10 years with 10 different champs before the Dodgers manged to break the streak (titles in 1981 and 1988). It wouldn't be until 1992-93 until we'd have an actual repeat champ. We're living in baseball's Golden Age of Competitive Balance. No American team sport has ever had more parity than baseball right now.

But that's not wanted to mention. I wanted to congratulate David Eckstein on winning the Series MVP. He's probably my favorite player in any sport who doesn't play for a team I root for. The guy was a walk-on at Florida, is a mere 5'7", and has managed to make himself not only into a professional athlete, but an incredibly successful one. And he has a pretty hot wife.


So well done, David Eckstein. A player so cool he once was named to the Jewish All-American team despite not being Jewish. It's David Eckstein's world, we just get a part.

Finals Haiku

MY SCHEDULE:

First there is Biz Org.
Consumer Protection next,
End with T&E


Back to work. Or playing ping pong. One of the two.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Quarter

Has anyone else noticed my frequency of posting goes up the closer we get to finals? How have I not flunked out yet? Because this can’t be a good behavior.

Finals loom menacing on the horizon, of course. I wish I had something witty or even insightful to say about that, but we all know that isn’t going to happen. So you’re on your own for the next week and a half. For all of you 1Q’s reading this, the only advice I have is to stock up on convenience foods. Finals week is also known as The Week During Which Steve Lives On Spaghetti-O’s.

So, go forth Baylor Law students! Live off of coffee and cigarettes! Fail to shave! Don’t wear makeup! Eat foods which have a half-life longer than plutonium! Feel guilty about watching bad TV! Move a cot into the Jaworski Office! It’s time for finals! It’s party time in Waco!

Someone hit me with something heavy.

Victory!

Hey, thanks to everyone who voted for me. To those of you who didn't, reprisals with be swift and ruthless.

Especially Quisp. Our internal polling showed he was surging late, thank goodness Boo Berry, my campaign manager, was able to get those drug accusations to stick. Hey, it didn't have to be true, we just needed Quisp to deny it.

For those of you that don't click my links, that actually is Boo Berry's myspace page. Is anyone else disturbed that fictional characters are on myspace*? It's bad enough Dane Cook is making it his personal mission to add every person on earth as his friend, but I'm drawing the line at creatures who do not actually exist.

* And that Boo Berry has 2581 friends. And is apparently a Pisces and, most disturbingly, a swinger.

The Nexus of Nerdom (Baseball and Law)

Because I’m training to be a lawyer and I’m also a hopeless baseball fan, it’s time to merge those two passions and play Applying Statutory Construction to the baseball rulebook. Yes, I’ve always been this big of a dork. It’s just that law school allowed me to be a dork with laser-like precision.

If you’ve been watching the World Series, or even the SportsCenter highlights, you are aware that Kenny Rogers had a foreign substance on his hand in Game Two which looked suspiciously like pine tar. The umpires said it was dirt, made him wash his hands, and that was that. Endless bitching has since ensued because that’s what baseball writers do.


But let’s look at the rulebook, because well, we can. And, as mentioned, I’m a dork. The rule in dispute is:

8.02
The pitcher shall not --
(a) (4) apply a foreign substance of any kind to the ball;
(5) deface the ball in any manner; or
(6) deliver a ball defaced in a manner prescribed by Rule 8.02(a)(2) through (5) or what is called the “shine” ball, “spit” ball, “mud” ball or “emery” ball. The pitcher is allowed to rub the ball between his bare hands.

The umpires disingenuously claimed after the game that dirt is not a foreign substance as it is part of the field. And that would cover a violation of Rule 8.02(a)(4). Let’s just assume that is true, because I don’t think the issue will be decided on the definition of “foreign substance”. Unfortunately for their contention, there are also parts 5 and 6. Rule 8.02(a)(5) makes it “illegal” for a pitcher to deface the ball IN ANY MANNER. So it is irrelevant if Rogers used pine tar or dirt to deface a ball. Even more damning is part (a)(6) which specifically references a “mud ball” which is exactly what you think it is.

Also, note the “or” in the rule. These violations are clearly disjunctive. It is a separate violation to apply a foreign substance, deface the ball in any manner, and then throwing the defaced ball.

Rogers’ only credible defense is that he was using the substance to better grip the ball, and did not “apply” any substance to the ball or “deface” it. He simply applied a substance to his hand for better grip of the ball, and the substance was never applied to the ball. I don’t much believe this argument, if you put pine tar on your hand, some of it is going to get on the ball, which would meet the requirements of the rule.* There is nothing here about intent. (Actually, there is, more on that after we get through the penalty)

So, Kenny Rogers is a dirty, filthy cheater. Even if it’s just dirt (and we accept the definition of foreign substance which excludes dirt), which I don’t think anyone honestly believes. What to do? Well, the Rule 8.02 helpfully includes a PENALTY section.

PENALTY: For violation of any part of Rules 8.02(a)(2) through (6):
(a) The pitcher shall be ejected immediately from the game and shall be suspended automatically for 10 games.

Not looking good for Mr. Rogers. However, included in the rules are official comments, just like in the UCC. And there’s an interesting tidbit in there. That’s right, we are coming back to the intent issue.

Rules 8.02(a)(2) through 8.02(a)(6) Comment: If a pitcher violates either Rule 8.02(a)(2) or Rule 8.02(a)(3) and, in the judgment of the umpire, the pitcher did not intend, by his act, to alter the characteristics of a pitched ball, then the umpire may, in his discretion, warn the pitcher in lieu of applying the penalty set forth for violations of Rules 8.02(a)(2) through 8.02(a)(6). If the pitcher persists in violating either of those Rules, however, the umpire should then apply the penalty.

So, if the umps give Rogers the benefit of the doubt, and decide to believe that Rogers accidentally covered his palm in pine tar (or dirt), they can give him a warning in lieu of the penalty. So the penalty is not necessarily automatic, it is left to the discretion of the umpire. Which I believe is what happened. Rogers was given the warning and did not persist in violating the rules.

But that also misapplies the rules. This mens rea exception only exists for a violation of Rules 8.02(a)(2) and (3). Rogers did not violate those rules. He violated Rules 8.02(a)(5) and (6). And he violated Rule 8.02(a)(4) if you don’t believe the shiny substance on his palm was dirt. There is no exception for umpire discretion for Rogers’ violation.

The rules clearly and unambiguously called for Rogers ejection from the game and a 10 game suspension. Can’t anyone read a simple statute anymore? Isn’t Tony LaRussa a lawyer?** Shouldn’t he be on top of these things?

Who knew that baseball was no different than LAPP? By the way, a balk is described in Rule 8.05. It is perhaps the most impenetrable use of language ever put to paper since Ulysses. It actually has a subpart (m).


*Actually, he has another defense, but its not addressed anywhere in the rules. What is the burden of proof? We have photographs that Rogers had a substance on his hand, but no one has produced a doctored ball. Having the substance on his hand is certainly circumstantial evidence that some of the substance was transferred to the ball. But it is not prima facie evidence he violated Rule 8.02. And the intent argument cuts both ways. Rogers may have intended to put something on the ball, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is whether he actually did put something on the ball.

How hard is it to produce a baseball? LaRussa should have demanded the umpires inspect the ball. His failure to do so may constitute a defense for Rogers. Just lazy enforcement of the rules here. I’m not sure what the standard of proof required for a “conviction” is, but Rogers has a pretty good argument that there is insufficient evidence. If I’m representing him, this is the tact I take. Though it’s a terrible argument in the Court of Public Opinion.

Though I do like making it Tony LaRussa’s fault, since I believe he has ruined baseball with his excessive use of middle relievers. Seriously. The Lefty One-Out Only Guy (LOOGY) is a scourge on the baseball landscape. It’s taking playing the percentages to an absurd degree.

**Editor’s Note: Yes, he is.

*** NOTE FROM MANAGEMENT: I think this is compelling evidence that Major League Baseball needs to hire me.



 

Happy Birthday, iPod! And Bro! And Hungary!

All hail the iPod!

Pretty much everyone knows of my deep love of my iPod, which I affectionately refer to as “the greatest gift I have ever, or would ever, receive.” Much like the Red Rider BB Gun with a compass in the stock and this thingee which tells time.

The iPod turned five years old today. I do think it has changed the way we listen to music, as it pretty much encourages my extraordinary ADHD tendencies. Like I’ll hear “The Man Who Sold the World” by Nirvana, which will send me back to the original Bowie, which will then remind me Bowie produced Iggy Pop’s first album which will then send me to Wayne Kramer, Iggy’s guitarist, who released some albums on Epitaph after getting out of jail, and doesn’t Bad Religion own Epitaph? Five hours later, I’m somehow listening to every Elliot Smith song ever recorded.

I can spend hours digging through those 60 gigs of musical goodness.




Also, turning much more than five today is the official brother of Poseur.  Birthdays all around!  Bring me cake!  While we're at it, here's some other birthdays today:

Adlai Stevenson
Gummo Marx
Chi Chi Rodriguez
Johnny Carson
Dwight Yoakam
Pele
Sam Raimi
"Weird" Al Yankovic
Doug Flutie
Keith Van Horn
The country of Hungary

Cake for everybody!

World Series #1A

Justin did a great job with his top ten World Series of his lifetime, and while I’m willing to forgive the oversight of the seven-game 1987 Series in which the Twins became, arguably, the worst team to ever win the title, I’m just ticked he left off perhaps the greatest Series ever played: the 1985 I-70 Series between the Royals and the Cardinals.

It’s not his fault. He was one year old when the game was played, and he’s probably spotty on the details. But it’s telling he knows a lot about the 1986 Series, which he also likely has absolutely no memory of. But since the New York media won’t ever shut up, and the Boston media is even worse, we’re up to our eyeballs in recriminations over 1986, yet no one aside from a few Missourians have ever threatened to kill Jack Clark.

So, let’s set this one up. In 1985, the Royals were actually good. Hard to believe, I know. Here, click
here if you don’t believe me. From 1976-1985, the Royals won seven division titles and finished second the three other years. But they hadn’t won the title yet.



The Cardinals were pretty darn good themselves, and would win more pennants in the 1980s than any other team (three). And the top of their order was one of the most feared in baseball: Vince Coleman and his 110 stolen bases led off, NL batting champion Willie McGee (.353) batted second, and Jack Clark was the power hitter at #3. And some Ozzie Smith guy played shortstop.

Actually, both teams had to fight like hell to get to the Series. The Royals overcame a 3-1 deficit against the Blue Jays, and the Cardinals beat the Dodgers in 6. Dodgers closer Tom Niedenfuer lost the last two games: Game 5 when Ozzie Smith hit a game-winning homer, and a Game 6 rally in the ninth was set up by an Ozzie Smith triple. Tom Niedenfuer goes to bed at night and curses the Wizard of Oz.

Anyway, the Royals lost the first two games of the Series, both at home. And after four games, they found themselves in a rather familiar 3-1 hole. No team in baseball history had ever come back from a 3-1 deficit after losing the first two games at home. Well, until the Royals. The big win was Game 5, getting the Series back to Kansas City for the last two games. And then came perhaps the greatest Game 6 ever played. Right up there with 1975 and 1986. More ink should be spilled over this game.

Charlie Liebrandt (yes, the same one, Braves fans) of the Royals and Danny Cox of the Cardinals would not allow a single run in the first seven innings of play. With runners on 1st and 2nd and two outs in the 8th, Whitey Herzog went to his bench and called on Brian Harper to hit for the pitcher. Harper had exactly 52 AB’s on the season, but he’d come through with a single which plated a run.

Then came the ninth inning. The managers went into matchup overdrive. Howser sent up Darryl Motley to pinch hit, so Herzog went to his pen and called for Todd Worrell. Howser responded and sent up Jorge Orta instead, who would ground out to Clark. Except Don Denkinger, in what ESPN has called the worst call in sports history, called Orta safe. He wasn’t. Then Worrell got Steve Balboni, a pretty good power hitter to pop out. Except Jack Clark lost the ball in the lights and didn’t make the play. Given a second chance, Balboni hit a single. Instead of nobody on and two outs, the Royals had two runners on and nobody out.

The Royals promptly failed to advance the runners on a bunt. Catcher Darrell Porter returned the favor by allowing a passed ball, advancing the runners. Worrell would then intentionally walk McRae to get to pitcher Dan Quisenberry (who it should be pointed out, had a terrific moustache and had a funky delivery I spent a year trying to copy without any success). Dane Iorg came in as a pinch hitter, and speaking of unlikely heroes, came through with a single which scored two runs. Pinch runner Onix Concepcion just barely beat Porter’s tag (Van Slyke’s throw was in time), and the Royals had inexplicably won 2-1.


Game Seven was a formality, but Cardinals pitcher Joaquin Andujar and Whitey Herzog were ejected for arguing balls and strikes. The home plate umpire? Don Denkinger.

Oh, and the Series gave rise to the internet theory, the Curse of Balboni. Steve Balboni hit 36 home runs in 1985, and until 2001, no team with a player who hit 36 home runs won the World Series. The 1985 Royals were a special team.

This post also demonstrates why I didn’t do this project. I’m far too long-winded. Also, disturbingly enough, I did need to check retrosheet to get a few of the names, but I was able to reconstruct the entire inning from memory. Besides, how do you forget a name like Onix Concepcion?

SBA Elections

Hey, I'm running for SBA Executive Treasurer. Go vote for me on Monday. I promise, if elected, I will not embezzle SBA funds.

Vote for the Hollenbeck-Baker-Fogelman ticket. Especially Hollenbeck and Fogelman. They actually have lots of SBA experience and would continue to do a great job if granted even more power. I'm just latching on to their train.

Game Seven

What a great game. If I'm gonna spend my evening not studying for finals, I want it to be worth my while. And that was everything I wanted in baseball game. Great pitching, a big home run, a tense final out with the bases loaded, and some great defense.


It was the kind of game that reminds me why I'm a baseball fan. Especially when the New York team loses. I also loved that we got to see some great pitching from some truly unexpected sources. I mean, really unexpected. Rob Neyer claimed today that, statistically speaking, Oliver Perez is the worst Game Seven starter ever. He'd throw a four-hitter over six innings. And I love any game won by the heroics of a Molina.

And this is an unintentionally funny photo which I'll let pass without further comment:




And now.... a haiku for Friday:

Game Seven drama.
Rather watch baseball than read,
He struck out looking!

What Aretha Franklin Taught Me About Law School

The fallout from Prof. Osler’s recent post seems to be subsiding, and I’ve already added my two cents over on his site. But, hey, I’ve go my own space, and I can throw in a buck fifty here. So here’s my last few additions to the cacophony.

First, Baylor Law is hard. I like that it’s hard. I don’t think the school should apologize for it, and in fact we take pride in it. Good. When you get a good grade here, you feel like you’ve accomplished something. And I don’t want that feeling to ever go away. Nothing is handed to us here, we have to earn it. That makes our experience all the more valuable. I think any criticism of Baylor and its administration should keep this overall point in mind. We came here because it was hard.

I also believe that administration does listen to its students. Last year, they had meetings with groups of students from each class to get their opinions on Baylor. Hell, Osler was the guy who guided our discussion. Not only was it a good program to reach out to the students to give us a voice, it gave us a perspective on the choices administration has to make. There isn’t an unlimited amount of money, and the school has to make tough decisions sometimes. In order to raise our school’s rankings, they’d have to do things which would negatively impact our education (cue Alanis Morrisette), like spending more time writing academic papers and less time teaching us.

I’ve said what I’m gonna say regarding grades. I would like to see a B+ added to the grade scale, and a different valuation for an A- or B-. But I’m not staying up nights about it. And I do agree if we’re going to have lower GPA’s as the last vanguard against grade inflation, the school needs to do a better job of educating employers. I’m not sure why that has to fall entirely on the CSO.

The biggest thing is respect. Everyone's complaints comes down to this. The administration needs to respect the hard work the students put in every single day. And the students need to respect the administration’s hard work as well. You can’t bitch about being disrespected and in the next breath blindly bash the CSO, the Dean’s office, or some anonymous professor. Respect is a two way street. And I’ve never encountered a professor at Baylor who did not want their students to succeed. Our professors may break us down, but they do build us back up. If you’re busy carrying a grudge from the time Trail made you look stupid in your first quarter, you’re missing out on an important part of your education.

I do think little things mean a lot. Osler’s blog allows us to see professors as people. So does the WJC’s facebook page. Those things do build bridges between faculty and students, even though it doesn’t seem like it. But if you have a problem with something the administration does, go into their office and voice your concerns. The Dean’s on the second floor. Faculty on the third. They’ll listen. Anonymous bitching gets you nowhere, and it’s just toxic. Be constructive. And have respect for each other.

Just my opinion. And I know this is odd coming from me if you know me well, but we all need to stay positive. Negativity fosters distrust. We all have the same goal, to make Baylor Law the best law school on the planet. We’re all on the same team here.

So let's go out there an run up the score on some poor directional school.

It's 12:00 And Best Buy Still Sucks

My personal war with Best Buy has come to a dramatic conclusion. I am now the proud owner of a brand spanking new computer. It’s only taken me about three months to wear the corporate beast down. The only weapon in my arsenal: being annoying.

So aside from the fact I am literally on my fourth computer this quarter (loaner, my old computer, loaner, this new one), I’m feeling pretty good. My notes are almost impenetrable given the timeline, and that I also have notes on three separate notepads when I was between computers. As if figuring out BizOrg wasn’t tough enough.

But when one is victorious, one does not quibble about the details.

*Note from management: thanks to Ladybird for pointing out I was only allowing registered bloggers to post. That was rather elitist of us here at Poseur HQ. Comments are now available for everyone. Go to it.

We deeply regret the error. Those responsible are being forced to attend every Baylor sporting event.

Punk's Birthplace Goes Belly Up

CBGB’s closed last week. I went to a few shows in the famous NYC club when I was still in high school, following DC Straight Edge bands up I-95 to a gig in which we were hardly welcome. The straight edge philosophy meant no drinking, and we were underage anyway. And CBGB’s might have been a live venue, but it was also a bar. They weren’t exactly enthused to see a bunch of teenagers overwhelm their place and not spend any money.


But it goes to show CBGB’s hasn’t been relevant in a long friggin’ time. When the most famous thing about your place is that the bathrooms are disgusting, perhaps it’s not that big a tragedy you’re going the way of the dodo. Seriously, who was the last band to break out of CBGB’s? Punk is 30 years old, people. And NYC has long since lagged behind DC and LA in churning out the vanguard of the rock underground.

The sheer dearth of an NYC punk scene was on full display when the final shows were overpriced gigs for Patti Smith and Blondie. At least those bands started there, even if it was in 1976. The rest of the week was a three-night reunion engagement for the seminal punk band, Bad Brains. Bad Brains is a DC band who would later relocate to LA (hence the album Banned in DC). They have as much to do with CBGB’s as I do.

Which shows how far the venerable club has fallen. It’s a shame CBGB’s is closing, but let’s be honest. This is a mercy killing.

What I've Learned

I haven’t written much on working at the DA’s office. In fact, I’ve written exactly nothing about it. It’s mainly because I’ve never gotten around to it, and a lot of the really juicy stuff I can’t talk about. Really. They made me sign a paper which said they could throw me in jail if I did. Actually, I’ve signed several of those papers. And I don’t think I’d do well in jail.

But as we approach the end of the quarter and my internship, here is a quick list of the things I’ve learned in my brief time there:

1. There is no honor among thieves. Thieves will rat each other out on a moment’s notice. It’s why they are criminals.
2. Prof. CrimPro is right. It is always drugs.
3. There are certain gas stations in town I would never, ever, ever get gas at.
4. I now know the street value of a gram of crack cocaine. So in case this law school thing doesn’t work, I could work in the drug trade.
5. Sufficiency of evidence challenges suck. It requires some poor schmuck (like an intern) to go through the record and cite every piece of evidence which supports the fact finding. And for some bizarre reason, every record is seven volumes long. I can’t figure that out.
6. You’d be amazed what will fit in a Toyota Corolla
7. It takes about four weeks to become absolutely cynical. I started out viewing each Child Protective Services case as a horrible event which would keep my up at nights. Now, I read files for their comedic value. I’m going to hell.
8. You think law school coffee is bad? Work at the DA’s.
9. It actually is possible to get arrested for loitering.
10. Bureaucracy sucks. It’s frustrating to bang your head against the wall of a government system, and even more frustrating when each person you talk with is nice, hard-working, and genuinely sympathetic. But it doesn’t change the rules. And the runaround is ten times more frustrating when there isn’t a person to blame.

New digs!

Like the new site? I just moved in. Still unpacking some boxes and I can't figure out where to put the coffee table, but I like the look of the place. I'm going to play around and figure out what each of the switches are for.

Baseball and BizOrg

Today was a rather eventful day in BizOrg for me. It’s the sort of class in which you can reasonably expect to be called on once, maybe twice the entire quarter. Not counting having to rap in front of the class last week, I’ve now been called on three times. I had read and think I sounded pretty competent, but I'm getting called on a lot in that class, relatively speaking. I’m not complaining*, but it’s someone else’s turn to take a case or two.

More importantly, we covered a case on the 1919 New York (Baseball) Giants (and not the one I got called on for). One of the directors of the corporation was John McGraw, who our prof described as one of the president and primary shareholder’s “friends”. Which is sort of like referring to a case on the Green Bay Packers and saying “some Lombardi guy”.

OK, I know I’m a huge baseball dork. But John F’n McGraw! The Little Napoleon! He’s only one of the greatest managers who ever lived. The only guy to win more games was Casey Stengel, and that’s just because he continued to manage after he was legally dead. From 1903 to 1932, McGraw had two losing seasons. Two. He also won 10 pennants and 3 World Series.

John McGraw was so awesome that when he got in trouble with the owner, he tanked the season, drove down attendance and thereby the purchase price of the team, and got one of his rich buddies to buy the team for him to run. All so he wouldn’t have to serve that suspension for attacking an umpire (and you thought Lou Pinella was intense). And our case today was McGraw and his buddy muscling out Tammany Hall. Yes, THAT Tammany Hall.

And John McGraw was nobody’s friend. He is one of the all-time biggest jerks to ever play baseball, though you could make a pretty outstanding team of nothing but gigantic jerks (I’m leaving off pitchers, who are just known as weird, not jerks):

C Thurman Munson (really not many mean catchers, though Carlton Fisk was sort of a pill, but I really liked him)
1B Dick Allen
2B Rogers Hornsby
3B John McGraw
SS Alvin Dark (Wow, most famous shortstops were also famous nice guys. Thank God we have one unrepentant racist in the bunch)
RF Pete Rose
CF Ty Cobb
LF Ted Williams (War hero? Yes. But also a famous jerk on the level of Albert Belle)

*Editor’s note: this is law school speak for “I’m complaining”