Greetings, my little legal chickadees! I bring you good tidings and another victory from Sprawl County. Today we will address a serious topic: When NOT to play to your strengths in the courtroom.
I had a hearing today, in front of Judge Napoleon. (not a tall man.)
My opponent: a gnarled creature....cantankerous, crotchety, irritable, un-budging, and venomous. It has been said that, in his prime, his courtroom prowess rivaled J.D. Crane's. That, of course, is nonsense, as anyone could see. How anyone who looks like a grizzly bear with Mange could have started out as I have is merely diarrhea for the ears. Indeed!
I was opposing his motion, and everyone in the courtroom, including I, expected him to go berserk, ranting and raving, kicking up the theatrics to near-unheard-of-levels. And, of course, everyone expected me to respond in kind. You see, I've got a reputation for being willing to engage in the sort of spirited, heated courtroom debate that gets one lambasted by the boys in the robes. And, truth be told, I'm awfully good at it. If the situation descends into nastiness, there are not many (in fact, I can think of none) who can out-belittle, out-patronize, and out-condescend J.D. Crane. However, the "sturm-un-drang" never came.
Why not?
There are a few simple reasons:
1. Judge Napoleon hates that sort of thing, and was already expecting it.
2. My opponent was almost assuredly going to try it.
3. I wanted to win.
Thus, because I felt obligated to my client to deliver the desired outcome, I did something I have only done on rare occasion: I threw a blank at the court.
Like Hannibal Lecter in "Silence of the Lambs", my pulse rate didn't break 68. I stated my points softly, matter-of-factly, in a monotone of sorts, gently allowing the words to float out over my soon-to-be-victorious lips. In fact, the Judge had to lean over several times just to hear me. True to form, opposing counsel railed at me, railed at the court system, railed at the injustice of it all, railed at the stars, even. 
As Groucho Marx used to say,"Once you can fake genuineness, everything else is a snap!".
And every time he took a breath, I calmly and steadily interjected my counterpoint and my justification. This was (and is) hard for me. I tend to psyche myself up to the point that I think I'm on the side of righteousness in the courtroom, even if that's not necessarily the case. This allows me to come off as believable to the court, because, for that short period of time I have myself psyched up, I DO believe what I'm saying.
So I denied myself my habitual and instinctual tendencies for the good of the client. I won the hearing, of course. (but you already knew that) It's very hard, though. All throughout the hearing I wanted to jump in and out-roar him, out-grandstand him, and out-outrage him. Even after I had won, I was still dissatisfied with how things went, so powerful is the urge to fight in kind. Sometimes you must deny yourself in order to prevail. Sometimes you must resist your natural impulses and override the reflexes you've spent time honing in court.
Sometimes it's not about you, it's about the client.
And if you don't agree, I will FIGHT YOU!
