Overslept the alarm by about 15 minutes, raced through the shower, and ran down the hallway to get to the free breakfast at its opening. I was about five minutes late; I might as well have waited for lunch. The continental breakfast setup looked as if it had been picked over by two college football teams and an army regiment. Food particles were everywhere, showing that the hungry horde of sports lawyers had tried bites of all the food, homing in on the best, which was evidenced by empty trays. There was some coffee left (milk gone) and some kind of mango juice. Of course, plenty of cheese always present.
While I'm beefing, all the materials for the conference were provided on a CD, which is fine, except the ballroom used to hold the meetings has only a few electrical outlets along the wall, none at all among the chairs lined up across the room. Not so useful when the battery runs out, which is fast when you're uploading from a CD. Luckily, TSLP found an empty chair along the rear wall, right next to one of the carnage-strewn "dirty-dish" tables, and so I got myself computing power. And even better, a weak yet functional wireless signal is reaching this corner of the room, broadcast from the business center down the hall. The fellow next to me and I are just giddy with our luck, giggling like schoolchildren who stumbled across the answers to the exam. I'm here on the cutting edge of technology, right in the grand ballroom of the Hotel Royal Sonesta.
Nice hotel. Except I hate the fact that hotels today have these little cards that provide a few paragraphs about the importance of the environment and the hotel's particular commitment to it, and then, in about paragraph three, tell you that if you want your bed linens changed you have to leave the darn card on your bed pillow. The default rule, if the card is not properly positioned on the pillow, is that the hotel staff will just make up your bed and leave it at that. First, the default rule is probably contrary to what most people want: having crisp, clean sheets on the hotel bed is one of the few petty luxuries that we middle-class people can enjoy when we travel. Second, placing the option to change the default rule on a small card with lots of inane writing, instead of on a bright red-lettered and brief card that says "Put on Pillow to Change Linens," just shows me that these hotels are as enthusiastic about changing the sheets as Best Buy is about making its heavily advertised rebates easily available to its customers. I've learned the hard way to ignore the claimed rebates when shopping at Best Buy because I know I won't go through the paperwork hassle of getting the refund. But where's my purchasing option when I check into the Hotel Royal Sonesta? Can I just notify the front desk upon arrival that I want clean sheets daily? Should I make up my own card that informs the maid that, after lengthy explanation of my personal philosophy and commitment, should a tip be desired, to please place this card on the pillow of my freshly made bed?
As you've guessed, and as Mrs. TSLP well knows, TSLP does not travel well. I am a pretty veteran consumer of law conferences, however, so here's my report on the morning at the annual meeting of the Sports Lawyers Association:
1. The first panel was of a type we often see at law conferences, and is nearly always a mistake. The topic was the athlete's right to publicity and the advent of fantasy leagues, so basically we got a discussion of the CBC decision (now on appeal) refusing to require fantasy league owners to purchase licenses from MLBPA to use player names and statistics in their games. What happens is the conference organizer basically invites the lawyers from each side of the case to present (which is what happened here) and assumes that the ensuing discussion will be a good one. Nope. Never happens, not in my experience. There's no way that lawyers, especially when still in the midst of litigation, can rise above their partisan positions and offer sagacious, detached comments on the merits of their position or the state of the jurisprudence. They're paid representatives, and they're going to use this forum, and every forum to which they're invited, to further their client's interests and to moot their case. So what happens is that, instead of providing a thoughtful review of the issues, the participants battle each other at every turn, over which area of the law applies, over which particular legal standards or doctrines are the relevant ones, over the facts of the case, over everything. That's what happened here. The panelists began about 90% of their comments with, "I completely disagree." It reminded me of my days as a clerk for an appellate court, and was about equally useful. When I was a clerk, we would hear the oral arguments, sigh deeply at how unhelpful they were, and then resolve to head back to the law library to figure the matter out for ourselves. One day oral advocates will realize that their job is to help the judges, not convince them. The best oral advocate I ever heard while clerking was Prof. Alan Dershowitz of Harvard. He did it right: explaining the law, considering it fairly from both perspectives, and then explaining why his client's position made more sense. It was masterly. He lost.
2. Got Alan "Bud" Selig stopping by for lunch. I look forward to it. I once had lunch with Justice William Brennan, and I remember it well. While we were drinking coffee after a fine meal, Bill smiled, looked up and said to me . . . . May I legitimately say that, to put it so intimately? Does it matter that there were about 2000 other people sitting in the room having lunch with Justice Brennan? Is it relevant that I was sitting in the far back of the ballroom, as I will be today, and that Justice Brennan could no more clearly see me than he could an airplane soaring past at altitude? I wonder what the rules of expression are here. Can I now claim to future generations of sports law classes that I had lunch with Commissioner Selig? Can I call him "Bud" and add whatever he says to my list of self-aggrandizing war stories with which I try to excite cynical students? May I say that "Bud said to me" whatever of interest he says? Yes, I can, and I will. Got to end this for now. I'm having lunch with the Commissioner of Major League Baseball and Bud hates it when I keep him waiting.
3. One more thing: so I'm sitting in the back of the hotel ballroom luxuriating in my wireless access, but since I'll need a seat at a table for my intimate lunch with Bud Selig, I put some of my stash on a nearby chair at a table. So some guy walks up, moves my stuff, and sits down. I go over to retrieve my stuff, and the guy says "sorry" to me for taking my chair. So I wait. He sits. If he's sorry, why doesn't he remedy the wrong by moving (plenty of room up front, where of course no one wants to sit, more or less alone). He wasn't sorry. He just took my place and figured he'd say he's sorry and that's it. TSLP is now one grumpy guy. Maybe lunch with my pal Bud Selig will brighten my mood. Bud is such a card; he always cheers me up.