UNCONVENTIONAL

Yesterday, Monday August 18, 2014 was the 80th birthday of Roberto Clemente, the greatest baseball player I will ever see.  As a young boy growing up in Pittsburgh, I saw Clemente play in Forbes Field, and then Three Rivers. I saw Clemente play in the 1971 World Series in which my Pirates beat the Orioles in seven games and Clemente, who hit safely in all seven of the world series games was voted the MVP. Clemente played in all seven of the 1960 world series when the Pirates upset the powerful NY Yankees. Clemente also hit safely in all seven of those world series games. 

Clemente played the game with a passion that burned. I could see it, but as a young boy not fully cognizant of the racial politics of the 1960's, I didn't fully understand his pride in being a black-Latin man, his quiet arrogance in being the best, knowing he was the best, and not playing the part of a safe, friendly, subservient man of color in a racist society. There is a story of Clemente and his young wife walking into a furniture store in Pittsburgh after a few years in the majors, and the salesman sizing up this young, dark skinned couple, and telling them there might be some old furniture in the bad of the store they could look at a a discount. Such was the way people of color were treated in our country less than half a century ago. 

I could write forever about Clemente's mistreatment and the pride he had that refused to let him back down. I could talk about how I would watch with envy the basket-catches he would make below his waist on high fly balls, or the arm that would throw runners out who hit a single to right field and improvidently took a bit of a turn, only to find themselves tagged out after  a Clemente rocket of a throw. I could write about that throw in game seven in the 1971 series where he picked the ball up off a ricochet off the wall, effortlessly spun and threw the ball on one hop to third base, a perfect strike- a throw some say was the greatest they ever saw. I could talk about how I saw the red in his eyes in game three at Three Rivers, when he thought he had hit a home-run down the first base line, but the umpires ruled it a foul ball. Seething, he stepped back into the batters box and nearly took the pitcher's head off with a line drive up the middle on the next pitch. That was, incidentally, the first night world series game ever played, and I was there. Thank you Dad and Grandpa. 

What I want to talk about is, that in this era of baseball by the numbers, Clemente did it all differently, and many would say wrong. His batter's stance was unconventional. He swung wildly, and often at the first pitch, eschewing the conventional wisdom to work the count in favor of the batter. As he got older, Clemente would coach young players in the winter leagues in Mexico and Puerto Rico. He would tell the hitters they couldn't get a hit if they didn't swing. It's advice no one would give any hitter today. 

And yet, Roberto had 3,000 hits. He led the NL in batting four times. In eighteen seasons he batted .319 and hit 240 home runs. And like Frank Sinatra sang, he did it his way. 

As I walk though the courthouse in Miami, I see young Assistant Public Defenders and young Assistant State Attorneys learning their craft. And they are indoctrinated with a set of rules, passed down from era to era: don't ask a question you don't know the answer to;  keep your opening statement short as jurors lose patience with you; try your case in voir dire if you can. 

Why?  Has anyone looked at these rules in the last forty years? 

Cross examination is a lawyer's best chance to get at the truth. Why limit yourself? 

Opening statement is the first chance the jury gets to hear your client's side of the story. Why not craft a compelling story. Make it interesting. Capture and hold the jury, no matter how long it takes. 

Voir Dire is the most important part of the case. A time to learn what a juror thinks. Why waste your time trying to indoctrinate thirty or forty people, many of whom don't have an open mind and never will. 

Clemente didn't follow any of the conventional rules. He played the game his way, and at a level rarely if ever seen. And damn if he wasn't the best baseball player I will ever see. And beyond his athletic abilities, he had a pride about his skills, and himself, and he refused to follow the rules of America, 1960. He wouldn't eat in the back of any damn restaurant that wouldn't serve him with everyone else. And ask any Hispanic who saw the post game interview in 1971 after the Pirates won the world series if their heart didn't swell with pride when the first thing Roberto did on national television was speak in Spanish to his people in Puerto Rico. That was something NBC didn't expect and that was something that "wasn't done". 

We are all born as individuals. And the best of us- the best trial lawyers, the best ballplayers, the best leaders, the people who make a change and make a difference, see the way things are done and ask "why?"
Bill Gates did it. Steve Jobs did it. Rosa Parks did it. Bobby Kennedy, as memorialized by his brother Teddy did it. The founders of our country did it. 

And I hope that in the times I get the opportunity to work with young lawyers,  I remember to instill a little bit of Roberto Clemente in how they approach their work, and maybe, their life. 

PLR.