How the mighty have fallen. Check out Mr. Samgrass' response to a stinging letter sent by Studs Terkel, on the subject of his departure from the Nation magazine. Sometimes, it's just better to let something drop, or people will think you've become a bore.

Good timing, Smythe. The week I decide to rip the LA Weekly a new one is the week it publishes a valentine to my brother, the sort of story Howard Fineman might write about Bush if W ran a Downtown music club. Understand that my criticisms about the Weekly were limited to its coverage of the Valley, not its typically prescient music columns.

Adam Felber has discovered a Newer Testament: the Book of Lieberman.

Another good reason never to go to trial is what happened to me (or rather, my clients) today: a near-total defeat. I need a drink.

A sidenote about yesterday's post: I must reiterate that having a prospective competitor to the LA Weekly is a good thing, even if the initial set of contributors are the type of hack-pundits usually published by the L.A. Daily News. For those of you who live outside of LA County, one of the things you have to remember is that half the population in the city lives in the San Fernando Valley, myself included. I cannot remember the last time the Weekly published an informative or intelligent story about the Valley; during the recent secession vote, the only times it could be bothered to comment on the issue was to say that it was a movement of, by, and for, racists. As skeptical as I was about secession, quite frankly the notion that this was some sort of white separatist movement is bullshit.

Normally, I would be infuriated by that sort of take, as it derives from the outdated view that the Valley is a predominantly white enclave, which hasn't been true since Yorty was mayor, as well as unintentionally endorsing the view, widely shared west of the 405, that the rest of the city has a parasitic relationship to Valley homeowners. But the Weekly's coverage of this area is so bad (its restaurant guide lists more restaurants from the "trendy" Silverlake area than from the Valley) that I find the throwaway to be more a testament to provincialism than something I need to take seriously. In some ways, it resembles the cliched view that East Coast sportswriters have of California, as a place too "laid back", too "Hollywood", to be passionate about our teams. I am optimistic enough about the forward progress of human development to believe that such opinions will eventually die out, hand-in-hand with the morons who share them.

Considering that the alternative is the execrable Daily News, a newspaper whose only worthwhile attribute is that it reprints the NY Times crossword puzzle every day, a new weekly holds the possibility that the other half of Los Angeles is finally going to get covered in a serious manner. And for that reason alone, I am mildly excited by the debut of the Examiner.

For those of you who have neither read Jonathan Harr's classic book, A Civil Action, nor seen the movie, let me recap its moral, a lesson I have come to appreciate after Day Three: never, ever go to trial if you can somehow avoid it. There are just too many factors involved that are beyond your ability to control. Your success is dependent on unpredictable witnesses, evidence that might never see the light of day, and other factors that are just plain unforseeable. One moment you're convinced your client is about to be hung out to dry, the next, the other side commits some unbelievable blunder, on an issue not connected to the merits, that imperils its case. And then the next day, the positions are reversed. With one more day to go, I still have no idea how this is going to end, but there is no way I will ever go to trial again unless I have literally no other option.

With the recent demise of NewTimes, Los Angeles has been without competition in the free weekly department for the past few months (which was just the way the publishers of LA Weekly wanted it; the Justice Department has been investigating the deal they made to shut down their rival). The good news is, former Mayor Riordan is about to bankroll a new tabloid-style weekly, one that its editor, Ken Layne, insists will be "very big on sports, and we're also going to have a big gossip section right in the middle", and which will be available to the public in June. The bad news is, well, get a load of whom the LA Times reports will be writing for the new LA Examiner: "...Lynda Obst, Billy Crystal, James Q. Wilson, Joel Kotkin, Jill Stewart ...Susan Estrich, Gene Lichtenstein and Andy Klein." I guess Michelle Malkin and Norah Vincent weren't available. Too bad this venture, backed as it is by some of the top figures in SoCal blogging, doesn't possess a little more creativity in that regard. But at least it's something. [link via Matt Welch]

Day One of the trial is complete. I am not by training a trial lawyer, and have only done a few of these since I "got made" over thirteen years ago, but each one produces an incredible rush of adrenaline going into court. It's a feeling I haven't had since I ran high school track, just an enormous high mixed with nervousness, anger, frustration and intellectual fire; I can see why so many successful litigators turn to alcohol, since it's one of the few socially-sanctioned ways to come down afterwards. And the thing of it is, I have pocket briefs to prepare, will probably be up all night, and I have to be in court again at 9 a.m. tomorrow. I'm not cut out to do this.

Frank Rich explains it all...is there some way he could be persuaded to keep his column, or at least start a blog?

Tomorrow I begin a trial at the U.S. District Court, so I will be indisposed for most of the week. If anything of interest happens, I'll share.

I'll say this for major league baseball: having a zero-tolerance policy towards gambling has its advantages. Anybody who makes a bet on any game knows that it could mean disgrace, ignominy, and the end of his career. Although I feel that the sport's treatment of Pete Rose has been a travesty, based on a ridiculously biased report drafted by someone who could give Ken Starr a pointer or two about selling a slanted investigation, at least the punishment makes sense. Bet on a game, even if it doesn't involve your team, and you're out.

Overseas, the policy is a bit different. Rather than aggressively trying to keep the sport clean, the governing bodies for soccer have a different approach: unless the player bets against his team, it's not a problem. Mainly, that policy grows out of the tolerance for legalized gambling that exists in Europe, particularly England. As with college sports in this country, it is easier to find athletes willing to fix games because the salaries aren't extravagant, and the temptation is much greater.

Perhaps the best English player of the moment, and one of the most feared strikers ever, Michael Owen, is currently having to justify having established an off-shore account for purposes of betting, including wagers on Premier League soccer. The reaction of the Football Association has been telling: as long as he keeps his bets on the ponies and on Man Utd. and Chelsea, and doesn't bet on his team, Liverpool, to lose, there's no problem. Putting aside the fact that an athlete who is dropping a small fortune to bookies is likely to be an easier target for blackmail, the whole message this sends to fans and to other players is that the sport is more willing to coddle athletes and appease gambling interests than to deal with the appearance of corruption.

So that was Ming Yao? He scores six early, two in the fourth, and another two at the end of OT, but was otherwise the Asian continent's version of Shawn Bradley (who, I should also point out, is a pretty good shotblocker). Shaq took him to school, a point soon to be forgotten in light of the Rockets' 108-104 victory Friday, and about the kindest thing you can say was that Yao did not lose his composure. Steve Francis, on the other hand, was unreal, scoring 44, including a three at the end of regulation to tie the game, faking out the refs with the elan of an Argentinian soccer player in drawing a flagrant foul in OT, and absolutely dominating the pathetic backcourt of the Lakers. While Yao's dunk with ten seconds to go in overtime got in the highlight reel, it was Francis dribbling out the shot clock, drawing the entire Laker defense to him, that enabled Yao to be so open in the first place. All in all, the best game of the regular season so far.

Well, now we know what the Republican solution to exorbitant medical costs is: blame the lawyers. Or rather, attempt to punish victims of medical quackery by proposing a law for no other reason than to slap a potential opponent in next year's election, John Edwards. Explain again, how does putting a cap on pain-and-suffering damages discourage frivolous lawsuits? I mean, if a lawsuit is frivolous, there aren't any damages to begin with; thus, there's nothing to cap. And if a jury awards a patient huge damages, then, at least according to the twelve people who heard the case, that lawsuit wasn't frivolous.

Bush's latest stunt is in the same tradition as basing the entire policy for education reform on blaming the teachers' union. In fact, passing the president's latest proposal will increase lawsuits, even if it works as advertised, since incompetent doctors are less likely to be weeded out by increasing malpractice costs. As I noted when discussing last year's bankruptcy "reform" bill, an enterprising lawyer will always know how to game the system to his advantage.

Believe it or not, there may be something to Pete Townshend's excuse for downloading kiddie porn. I was a bit bothered when his explanation was almost word-for-word identical to David Westerfield's: that he was just doing research to see what was out there. Well, as it turns out, he actually wrote a paper on the subject of how easy it was to obtain child pornography on the internet, and published it on his website. [Link via Cursor] If this controversy doesn't provoke some civil libertarian discussions about the free use of the internet, than nothing will.

For years, there was this flaky billionaire named Marvin Davis, who was always threatening to purchase either a football franchise or a film studio. Whether it was the Tampa Bay Bucs or United Artists that were up for sale, Davis' name would always be in the news, before, surprise, surprise, he would back down, and the prize would go to someone else. For a short time, he actually did own a studio. After a while, though, it became clear that he wasn't serious, so he began to be politely referred to as a "tire kicker", someone who interested in looking but wasn't really a player. Perhaps the nadir was when he let his name be linked to a move to build a football stadium next to the Inglewood Forum several years ago, when the NFL was looking to put an expansion team in LA. Just having his name tied to the project was enough to discredit what had been a serious proposal, one that was almost a done deal when Al Davis was still in town, and the league actually went back to negotiating with the Coliseum; better that, they reasoned, then to be dicked around by someone they knew was going to back down in the end.

The last ten years, Marvin Lewis has been the Marvin Davis of the NFL. Unquestionably a terrific defensive coach, his name has been on the short list of almost every vacancy in the head coaching ranks, pro or college, since 1996. After his defense in Baltimore won the Super Bowl two years ago, he was all but offered the head position in Buffalo, but had cold feet at the last second, and stayed with the Ravens. Last season, California was set to announce his hiring when he backed down, and decided instead to become an assistant coach under Steve Spurrier with Washington. He was considered for jobs at Carolina and Tampa Bay, but by then, his reputation was as someone who wanted the attention, not the job, and he got passed over both times. Only a month ago, he was offered the head position at Michigan State, but turned it down. Just when it seemed like he was about to get a reputation for being someone too gutless to be a head coach, he agreed tonight to accept the job with the worst franchise in football, the Cincinnati Bengals. It is hard to imagine a worse situation for him; he will now be a coach for a team that won't spend the money, that is notorious for incompetent drafting, and has little talent to speak of. And they went 2-14 last season. Good luck.

EJ Dionne is all wet on this analogy. John McCain fights special interests; Joe Lieberman is their supplicant.

On a whim last week, I rented the DVD of Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I won't pretend that it's one of the greatest movies of all time, but it remains one of the few films I've seen that never gets boring. The DVD is a revelation; one of the reasons why the movie has remained so memorable was just how beautifully it was shot. Apparently, the principal reason the film was even made was to hype a candy bar that Quaker Oats was selling, which, as it turned out, disappeared almost immediately. The commentary track, which consists of the five child actors, is a gas. As you might have guessed, the alternate language tracks are also worth a few minutes of your time; one hasn't lived until you hear Julie Dawn Cole dubbed into French !!

Yesterday, the Buffalo Sabres became the second NHL team in a week, and the fourth in the last eight years, to file for bankruptcy protection. As I noted before, this represents a very disturbing trend in the sport, especially since neither Ottawa nor Buffalo are really the weak sisters of the league; the franchises in Tampa, Carolina, Phoenix and Anaheim have attendance and media problems that are at least as severe, with no hope that things are going to get better anytime soon. And of course, the labor contract expires at the end of next season, although this is one problem that can't be blamed on greedy players, who, after all, are paid far less than their counterparts in basketball and baseball.

The best case scenario may well be that only a couple of teams will fold; the worst case is that the league may well go the way of the NASL. However, I do not believe that the long-term prognosis for the sport is all that bad. Even if the league dies, or is truncated in a dramatic fashion, I would expect many of the franchises to live on. There is clearly sufficient international interest in the sport to survive even the roughest of patches, and if it came down to it, I would expect to see a stronger, and more realistic, ice hockey league exist with teams in Europe and North America.

If this is true, then I don't see why we don't enlist the help of a few expatriate Nigerian bureaucrats as well. All is fair in the war against terror. Speaking of which, Neal Pollack is back, with an expose on the evil doctor who now leads the Senate.

I'm a couple of days behind on this story, in large part because it reflects something very rarely seen in public figures: moral courage. The last part of Governor Ryan's speech against the death penalty exhibits how even the most ordinary of men can sometimes achieve greatness. It's the best piece of oratory in years. [link via Jeanne d'Arc]