Court Justice: The Inside Story of My Battle Against the NCAA and My Life in Basketball by Ed O'Bannon & Michael McCann

Author:Ed O'Bannon & Michael McCann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2017-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

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I think Judge Wilken would have approved had she been judging me for a job. She was like Superman; she could see through anything. She learned about college sports from a completely unbiased perspective, without letting anyone or anything distort the reality of her perception.

Indeed, Judge Wilken demanded facts and then more facts. She left no stone unturned. I had never been around someone so inquisitive, such a true learner in every sense of the word. And I’m sure that, like Rosa, by the end of the trial Judge Wilken was able to name off a full list of college conferences, teams and even coaches. It was a beautiful thing to see.

There was, however, one awkward moment for me with Judge Wilken, and I thought for a second I might have ruined the case for us.

By the second to last day of the trial, Thursday, June 26, I figured I had a pretty good mental impression of Judge Wilken. After all, when you watch the same people every day for three weeks straight, you’re kind of like an artist taking in the scene. You begin to see the fine details of a person and you can easily see them if you close your eyes.

So, I knew what Judge Wilken looked like. She had salt-and-pepper curly hair right at her shoulders. She wasn’t very tall—at least she didn’t look it while sitting behind the bench. Nonetheless, I had only seen Judge Wilken in her judge’s robe. I didn’t know what she looked like in regular clothing.

Well, I arrived at the courthouse very early that Thursday. I had had trouble sleeping the night before. I felt a lot of nervous tension. I knew the trial was almost over and it was starting to hit me.

While waiting for the courtroom to open I decided to go to the bathroom, which was down a hallway and around a corner. When I got there I’m pretty sure about half of the lawyers were there too—it must have been end-of-trial anxiety!

Anyway, after I left the bathroom, I was walking back around the hallway corner and I saw this lady with her hands completely full while trying to open the door. She was dressed in business attire. Maybe she was a lawyer or a clerk. She was maybe five foot four and had gray hair.

My mom raised me to open doors for women and my instinct kicked in: go open the door for this woman. So I did just that, and came from behind her to open the door. I still hadn’t seen her face. Then we turned to each other, and it was Judge Wilken! She realized who I was too. She had that “oh, no” look on her face and I’m sure I had it too. No smiles. Total awkwardness. In fact, she completely avoided making eye contact. She probably didn’t need to see my face to realize that the black man standing next to her, a man who was a foot and a half taller than her, was the plaintiff in her trial.

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