Running it Twice

Random Thoughts

2011-11-23T17:09:00.000-08:00

Props to Newt Gingrich for infusing his stance on illegal immigration with some common sense. At last night's debate, Gingrich said (and I'm paraphrasing) that while he'd deport those illegal immigrants who had recently arrived in the Land of Opportunity, he'd allow those who had put down roots (e.g., starting a family in America) to stay. Newt has taken some dumb positions in the past, but he showed some courage in straying from the party line--especially as he's currently leading the polls and therefore had less incentive to rock the boat.
I'm disappointed the Bears didn't land Kyle Orton. He would have been valuable in a variety of ways: he could've provided some insight into the Broncos' offense (the Bears play the Fightin' Tebows in a few weeks), he would be great insurance in case Hanie went down, and, by signing Orton, the Bears would have prevented the Chiefs--another upcoming opponent--from upgrading their quarterback situation. Let's not blame the Bears for Orton winding up in KC instead of Chi-Town, though. After all, the Chiefs have waiver priority; consequently, when both teams claimed Orton, Kansas City won out.
I'm predicting that the Bears will make the playoffs, even despite Cutler's injury. This isn't a tremendously bold statement, considering the relative softness of their schedule when compared to other NFC wild-card contenders, but I wanted to put it in (virtual) print anyways. I had been predicting playoffs for my hometown heroes for a while now, but you'd have to search my gchats to find any corroborating evidence. (Do take my word for it, though.)
Sticking with the forecasting, I'm here to tell you that my Northwestern Wildcats will snap their 62 year bowl-victory drought this year. Unlike the typical Wildcat team of the last decade or so, which has overachieved in the regular season and received a tough postseason opponent as a result, this year's squad struggled early and have more talent than their record would indicate.
I think Robert Griffin III is a better college football player than Andrew Luck, but I'd put Luck over RG3 on my Heisman ballot. I am one of those guys who thinks that a team's record should be considered by voters. I took this stance a few years back when I railed against Toby Gerhart's Heisman credentials--with so many players playing so many positions on so many college football teams, it's impossible to determine the best college football player in all the land. (If it were possible, surely a lineman would have won more often.) Therefore, some component of the Heisman should instead be geared towards voting for the most valuable player on a very successful team. (Note: getting to bowl eligibility is not "very successful.") Even though the 2011 Cardinal have been described as a team "that seemed good enough to play in the national title game until it ran into a team that really is good enough to play in a national title game," reaching a BCS game is certainly a very successful campaign.
All that said, does Luck deserve a Heisman over Trent Richardson, Bama's star running back? Impossible to say with regular season games left to be played, but if both shades of red* win out, well, it's still damned tough to say. (I'm sure Luck will end up winning, but will it be a deserved victory?)

*If I got too cute there, I'm referring to the Cardinal and the Crimson Tide.

Irrefutable Proof that the Republicans will win Ohio (and thus the White House) in 2012

2011-11-15T13:37:00.000-08:00

ESPN.com always has a poll question featured prominently on its home page. The results of the poll are displayed on a state-by-state basis. This morning's poll question asks, "Which side should receive a larger share of the revenue in the NBA?" and gives us three options from which to choose: Owners, Players, or Let's Split the Baby and Divide Things 50-50.

You probably didn't realize it (seeing as how I'm reading into this for comedic effect), but in more generic terms, ESPN has just asked you, "are you on the side of the employer or the employees?" If you're a fan of the Captains of Industry, you vote for the owners; if you're a champion of the working man, you vote for the players or--since the players just rejected a deal and you're kinda mad at them for depriving you of basketball but not mad enough to side with those parasitic billionaires--the 50-50 chop.

The map, which is pictured below and likely has already caught your eye with its vibrant colors and distracted you from reading these paragraphs of text, shows a fairly even divide between owners and 50-50 loyalty. (Again, I'm assuming--sort of unfairly--that the 50-50 option is a pro-player stance.) Look at the individual states. The classic GOP strongholds (Texas, Utah, the Deep South) are pro-owner, whereas the traditionally Democratic states (California, Illinois, the Northeast) stand with the players. In fact, this map comes pretty close to mirroring the 2008 electoral college results, except for the obnoxious fact that ESPN inverted the colors.

Ohio, however, has failed to cooperate. Obama captured the state in 2008, so we'd expect it to be pro-union, pro-employee, etc, but it's aligned with the owners! Clearly, we can fairly extrapolate from this sports poll that Obama has already lost Ohio and, as Ohio goes, so goes the nation, or something. Long story short: the real election for our nation's next leader comes in the GOP primary. The general election has already been decided. You heard it here first.

Life in Texas means...

2011-10-29T16:34:00.000-07:00

...even our junk mail loves the Second Amendment.

It also means that we have bizarre priorities when it comes to sports.

A separate tab just for high school football? Check. Another separate tab just to cover the recruitment of said high school footballers? Check. No acknowledgement that the NHL exists? Check. ("Wait," you say, "doesn't that 'Stars' heading stand for the Dallas Stars?" Nope--that would be the Texas Stars of the American Hockey League. I wonder what the Statesman thinks happens to those supremely-talented Texas Stars players who mysteriously vanish from the rosters. Where do they go?!)

Stop the Flopping

2011-05-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

European soccer players are notorious for faking injuries in order to kill time or get a beneficial call. I have tons of examples at the ready, but Rivaldo's "simulation" (official term for taking a dive in order to earn a free kick) in the 2002 World Cup may be the best example. (Note: if this link breaks, go to YouTube and search "Rivaldo fake injury" or something like that.)

If you couldn't tell exactly what went on, a player from Turkey kicked the ball towards/at Rivaldo because Brazil had a corner kick. The ball hit Rivaldo's upper leg on the fly, but Rivaldo pretended that he had been hit in the face and went down holding his nose. The referee inexplicably bought it, and gave the player from Turkey a red card. (Not sure whether that was a straight red or the second yellow card, but either way it's an unjust result.) How did the linesman not see what happened?! This is a World Cup match!! Terrible.

As a soccer player, these faked injuries embarrass me. Why would Americans want to watch a game where the players act so cowardly? Hell, these players' dives have turned me off from "the beautiful game," as soccer is known--I can't imagine a typical person wanting to tune in. What's worse is that American sports have caught the simulation disease. Basketball may be the best example. Take a look at a clip from yesterday's Bulls-Heat playoff game:

Let me make this clear: that's the league's best player blatantly pretending to have been fouled. He even winks at his bench shortly thereafter. Pathetic. It's not one isolated instance, either--and it's certainly not limited to LeBron James. Superstars across the league (Pau Gasol, Manu Ginobili, etc.) fall to the ground in agony without the slightest touch. It makes the NBA even less watchable. It's bad enough that the faces of the league whine to the referees at every opportunity (Kobe, Dwyane Wade, and Duncan are the most egregious offenders, though every team has at least one crybaby)...now we have to watch them topple like a house of cards?

I wish David Stern (the Commissioner of the league) would put a stop to this nonsense. Simply give the referees the authority to hit the flopper with a technical foul. The refs wouldn't dole out too many, because it's difficult to tell whether a player is taking a dive or not, but the mere threat of the punishment should deter the players from acting. You know who would love this rule? Players like LeBron, who suffers from this plague of simulation way more often than they benefit. I guarantee the superstars would love to get rid of flopping, but they can't just lead by example. It's akin to the Prisoner's Dilemma--why cooperate when you have no guarantees your partner in crime will do the same? If you have an outside authority step in and force the prisoners to cooperate, everyone wins. The Commish can be that strong hand to ensure that no one flops. The game will be better as a result. After all, do we really want the NBA to devolve into stuff like this?

Hell, no.

Title IX

2011-05-08T13:04:00.000-07:00

Most everyone has heard of Title IX (read: Title Nine) and could give a brief description of its purpose: to promote gender equality in the world of collegiate sports. When a university cuts wrestling or another male varsity sport, Title IX often bears the blame. In these next few paragraphs, we'll examine just what Title IX requires of universities and the various ways these schools comply with the federal law.

In 1972, Congress passed and President Nixon signed into law Title IX, which reads in part that "[n]o person . . . shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in . . . any education program or activity receiving federal financial assistance." Since virtually every university gets some federal funding, Title IX applies to virtually every college in America.

In 1979, the Carter Administration's Office of Civil Rights issued a Policy Interpretation that elaborated on the requirements of Title IX. The OCR created three ways for a university to conform with the law, which I will paraphrase:

The school must have equal athletic opportunities for men and women.
If the school doesn't have equal athletic opportunities, it must have a continuous record of expanding its programs to meet the needs of the underrepresented sex (women).
If the university can't meet #1 or #2, it must demonstrate that women's interests are fully accommodated by its current programs.

A quick example will clarify these regulations. Let's say Northwestern has an enrollment of 3,000 men and 2,000 women. Let's also say that 500 men are interested in collegiate athletics, and 250 women are interested in collegiate athletics. Northwestern could comply with Title IX by doing any of the following:

Provide varsity slots for men and women at a 3-to-2 ratio. (For every 3 slots for men, there must be 2 for women.) This would satisfy Requirement #1.
Be able to show that it's continually adding women's sports to its offerings. This would satisfy Requirement #2.
Provide 250 slots for women. This satisfies Requirement #3. According to our example, 250 women want to play sports. To fully accommodate women, NU must have 250 slots for women.

The following options would not be in compliance with Title IX:

Provide varsity slots for men and women at a 2-to-1 ratio, which corresponds with the number of men and women interested in sports. Courts think this is myopic; just because women aren't that interested in sports at the moment doesn't mean they won't become more interested in the future.
Have an equal amount of men's and women's teams. This might work, but it doesn't necessarily satisfy Title IX, which concerns itself with the number of roster slots. A college football team has 110 or so slots, depending on the school, whereas a women's tennis team will have 15 or so. You can see how an equal number of sports, by itself, doesn't suffice. [Aside: this is partly why schools have such huge women's crew teams. At least at NU, I believe every girl who tried out for varsity crew made the team--not that stopped those girls from acting cool for being a varsity "athlete."]
Say to the court, "yeah, our women aren't fully represented, but so what? Neither are our men. 500 want to play sports, and we only have room for 300. It's a tough economic climate and we can't afford enough teams for everyone." The courts don't care. Title IX concerns itself with the underrepresented gender; how the men are doing is irrelevant (unless they're the ones who are underrepresented).

Hope this shed some light on a fairly well-known topic of law. For further reading, here's an NYT article on the subject. Btw, my sports law final is tomorrow, so if you're getting sick of these sports-law themed posts, you're in luck.

A Quick Discussion of Contracts

2011-05-05T13:41:00.000-07:00

As I may have mentioned, I'm taking Sports Law this semester. It's far from the hardest law school course I've encountered, but I'm learning a good deal--mainly because the course draws on many different areas of law. In my previous post, we saw how antitrust and labor law can feature prominently in the world of professional leagues. Today, I'd like to provide use sports to explain a bit of contract law.

The main issue I'll be focusing on today is this: how does Player get out of his contract with Team A in order to go play for Team B? What can Team A do to stop Player?

Hypothetical: Player, a star in both basketball and baseball, signs a contract with Baseball Team. Unfortunately, a few months in to this contract, Player realizes that he can't hit a major league curveball. He wants to go back to the hardwood, but he's under contract with Baseball Team. What happens now?

Well, Player could simply refuse to perform. He could leave Baseball Team and go sign a contract with Basketball Team. That would leave it up to Baseball Team to go to the courts. Baseball Team could simply sue for a breach of contract, a lawsuit it would almost certainly win. The remedy for a breach of contract is typically monetary damages (I use "typically" because I don't want to sound too authoritative--it's been a while since I took contract law). So, Player would have to pay Baseball Team a sum of money that the judge believes would make Baseball Team whole. Easy enough, right?

Well, sure, but imagine you're Baseball Team. You believe that Player, despite his troubles, has great potential. You don't want monetary compensation--you want Player to stick to his contract. Thus, you ask the court not for damages but for an injunction. You want the court to enjoin Player from playing anywhere but for your team. In essence, you want the court to step in and hold Player to his contract.

An injunction is a tougher remedy to obtain. Courts are happy to award damages, but they're reluctant to force a party to adhere to his contract. Understandably so: breaching a contract occasionally leads to a more efficient allocation of resources. If Player is a mediocre slugger but a star cager,* it makes more sense for him to go play basketball.

Here's a non-sports example of efficient breach that you could totally skip over and not miss a beat (I even changed the font to show you how unessential it is!):

"Suppose I sign a contract to deliver 100,000 custom-ground widgets at $.10 apiece to A, for use in his boiler factory. After I have delivered 10,000, B comes to me, explains that he desperately needs 25,000 custom-ground widgets at once since otherwise he will be forced to close his pianola factory at great cost, and offers me $.15 apiece for 25,000 widgets. I sell him the widgets and as a result do not complete timely delivery to A, who sustains $1000 in damages from my breach. Having obtained an additional profit of $1250 on the sale to B, I am better off even after reimbursing A for his loss. Society is also better off. Since B was willing to pay me $.15 per widget, it must mean that each widget was worth at least $.15 to him. But it was worth only $.14 to A – $.10, what he paid, plus $.04 ($1000 divided by 25,000), his expected profit. Thus the breach resulted in a transfer of the 25,000 widgets from a lower valued to a higher valued use." Richard Posner, Economic Analysis of the Law (got it from here).

Thus, Player would argue to the judge, "look, I know I'm breaching my contract. I'm not denying that; in fact, tell me how much to pay and I'll pay. But don't hold me to this contract--it would result in an inefficient allocation of resources." Baseball Team would respond, "Judge, contracts should be seen as something more than an economic instrument. They should be seen as moral obligations worthy of as much 'legal teeth' as the law can reasonably provide."

In addition to this broad principle, Baseball Team could make the following arguments (I'll leave it to you to evaluate their merits):

Money isn't enough of a remedy. Player is so uniquely skilled that losing him would cause our team irreparable injury that you can't put a price on.
Player is of such unique talents that we wouldn't be able to replace him. (Imagine if Derrick Rose went to go play hockey. The Bulls would have a helluva time finding a new Derrick Rose.)

So, now you've gotten a taste of both sides of the issue. Player doesn't have tons to say, but keep in mind that many courts look favorably on the concept of efficient breach and similarly are quite reluctant to grant a remedy as extraordinary as an injunction. This issue of players jumping from one team/league to another is uncommon these days, as two-sport athletes are rare and the big four sports leagues have no real competition. (These cases were more common back when the AFL and the NFL were on approximately equal footing and you'd see someone want to leave one of these football leagues for the other.) Even though we don't see this type of case much in sports law, it still is an important aspect of contract law. I just framed the concept in a sports law context to make it more interesting and readable.

*cager is a great crossword clue, btw.

My Attempt to Explain the NFL Labor Dispute

2011-04-27T19:18:00.000-07:00

In this post, I'm going to do my best to chronicle and explain the tangled mess that is the 2011 NFL labor dispute. I'll try to clarify some of the legal jargon being thrown around, but, as always, I'm not giving definitive legal advice. With that, off we go...

Way back in 1956, the NFL players formed a union known as the National Football League Players Association (NFLPA). Once a union is formed, the employer can no longer bargain individually with his employees. Rather, the union becomes the exclusive bargaining representative for all the employees (even those who didn't want to unionize). This is known as "collective bargaining." When the employer and the union finally come to terms on wages, hours, working conditions, etc., the resulting contract is known as a "collective bargaining agreement" (CBA).

At this point, you may be wondering, "wait, if the Owners bargain with the union, how come we hear all this talk about players negotiating contracts for themselves?" Great question. The union is entitled to eliminate all individual bargaining, but the union may also (and typically does) bargain with the employer to permit an individual to negotiate whatever extra compensation the market will bear. While this strategy wouldn't make much sense to an autoworkers union, it works very well for athletes (and actors).

So, now let's jump ahead to 2006. The Owners and the NFLPA reached an agreement that, among other things, agreed to a deal whereby the Owners would take the first $1b in league revenue (much of which would fund new stadiums) and, of the remaining revenue (approximately $7b), the players would receive approximately 60% and the owners would take 40%. Each side had the opportunity in 2008 to opt out of the CBA, which would cause the CBA to expire after the 2010 season. The Owners unanimously chose to exercise this opt-out clause. In simple terms, they believed that the NFLPA had ripped 'em off (which, of course, the NFLPA has every right to do).

So, on March 11, 2011, the collective bargaining agreement officially expired. (It was originally scheduled to expire on March 3 but the sides extended it for a week to give themselves more time to bargain.) At this point, the NFLPA had a choice to make.

The players had to decide whether to strike or not. Striking is simply a collective refusal to work by the employees in hopes that holding out from working will force the employer to make concessions. (Typically, a CBA includes a "no-strike" clause where the union gives up its right to strike while the CBA is in effect; that's why the players would have to wait until the CBA expired to decide whether to strike, I presume.) Would it make sense for the players to strike in March? Nope. Why not? Because the strike wouldn't have much of an effect. You strike when doing so hurts your employer--in the NFLPA's case, it would only make sense to strike during the regular season or playoffs, when a strike would cause the Owners to lose gobs and gobs of money. Also, striking is typically bad publicity, and there's no reason for the NFLPA to wear the black hat yet.

[There's a bunch of law concerning the rights that employees and employers have once a strike takes place. Can an employer hire replacements? Can the employer fire employees for striking? These questions are tempting but are outside this entry's scope.]

The Owners similarly had a choice once the CBA expired. They could decide to lock out the players or do nothing. Had they done nothing, the CBA would have continued on, as labor law dictates. The Owners certainly didn't want that, so they instead decided to lock out the players. A lockout prevents the employees from working and essentially shuts down the league. Thus, the Owners don't have to play the players.

In anticipation of the lockout, the NFLPA voted to decertify just before the Owners locked out the players. Decertification simply means that the union dissolved itself. (The Owners, btw, have filed a grievance with the National Labor Relations Board, claiming that by decertifying, the NFLPA isn't bargaining in good faith.) Now, why on earth would the NFLPA voluntarily dissolve itself? I'm glad you asked...

Our country has antitrust laws and labor laws. Antitrust laws prohibit (some types of) anticompetitive conduct, and labor laws protect certain forms of anticompetitive conduct. A group of workers getting together and agreeing to fix the prices of their product is anticompetitive, whether that product is a shirt, a car, or--in the case of a union--labor. Yet, the NLRA and other federal labor laws explicitly protect the right to unionize. Clearly, we have a conflict between the two areas. Which one wins out? Well, I'll spare you the boring case law and get right to the answer: labor law trumps. In fact, there's an explicit statutory exemption to the antitrust laws for labor.

The fact that labor law trumps antitrust law sounds like bad news for the Owners, but it's actually a good thing. You see, the NFL does some things that are quite anticompetitive. For example, think about the upcoming NFL Draft. By the end of Thursday night, one team, and one team only, is going to have the right to sign Cam Newton. Don't you think Cam could make more money ~~if he stayed in college~~ if he had 32 potential suitors? Don't you think you'd get a bigger salary if you had 32 law firms, or elementary schools, or software companies chasing after you instead of only one? (Cam may not be the best example because the high draft picks get paid a ton of money, but keep in mind that most picks don't.) So, if the NFL is violating the antitrust laws, how come no one has sued 'em?

Well, there have been lawsuits, of course, but here's the thing: there's a labor exemption to antitrust law. The NFL and the NFLPA bargained for the current draft system, and since the draft arose from a CBA, it's exempt from antitrust litigation. The Owners love that the NFLPA exists, because without it, they'd be subject to antitrust litigation; losing an antitrust suit would probably force the Owners to alter the way it does business and pay damages to the injured plaintiffs. (Also, losing in antitrust law sucks because the winning party's damages get tripled. If it's found that the plaintiff suffered $1m in damages, the defendant has to pay $3m.)

Now you're beginning to understand why the NFLPA decertified. By doing so, NFL players can sue the Owners in antitrust law--and wouldn't you know it, some already have. According to the L.A. Times, "[t]he players allege that the NFL conspired to deny their ability to market their services." This is typical antitrust language--the players are contending that the NFL's policies (regarding free agency and the like) have prevented the players from getting paid their fair market value. If true, this is obviously anticompetitive (you can't get together with fellow employers for the purpose of holding down salaries) and likely in violation of the antitrust laws.

In addition, the players asked for an injunction that would stop the lockout. An injunction is a court order that forces a party to do--or refrain from doing--something. In this case, the NFL would be forced to refrain from continuing the lockout. Yesterday, the federal district judge granted that request and ordered the lockout lifted. In essence, the judge told the NFL to start its season. The NFL has already appealed this order. In the interim, it asked that same district judge to stay (to put off or delay) the injunction until the appeal has been heard. Just this evening, the judge denied that request. That means that we could be in for some interesting developments in the next few weeks, as the league will be operating without a collective bargaining agreement.

As you can see, the NFLPA has adopted a strategy of litigation, as opposed to bargaining. It could have stuck together and continued to negotiate with the Owners until a CBA was reached. Clearly, the NFLPA thought it could gain more by going to court instead. Similarly, the Owners haven't hesitated to use their legal weapons. They locked out the players and brought an Unfair Labor Practice claim to the NLRB. The moral of the story? In bigtime disputes like this, with lots of money on the table, the lawyers always win.

The labor dispute largely comes down to how to divvy up the revenue. There are other issues as well--possibly lengthening the season, changing how much rookies get paid, etc.--but the revenue question is the main one. As both sides are making tremendous amounts of money, it seems unlikely that they'll fail to reach an agreement before the regular season begins. There's simply too much money to be had to justify killing off a season. (The NBA, however, faces a similar battle only this time some of the Owners are losing money and will likely dig in and force major concessions from the players. That's a post for another day, however.)

All in the Game

2011-04-13T14:38:00.000-07:00

Phil Ivey is the consummate professional gambler. He plays for money, not fame. He understands that in poker, the best player is the one who makes the most money. Bracelets, "world championships," and all those other titles mean very little to him--at least when you compare him with many of his peers. Ivey simply goes about his business and gets his money in good, whether he's playing poker or prop-betting.*

Ivey is very good friends with a lot of the people he plays poker against, even though they all battle each other for tens of thousands of dollars on a daily basis. I never really understood how this could be. I mean, I realize that theoretically it's possible not to take losses personally. After all, we all play basketball or tennis against our buddies and remain friends afterwards. But, in tennis, a house or two isn't at stake. Moreover, you and I are not nearly as competitive as someone like Ivey, who clearly has something in him that drove him to the top of the poker mountain. As a result, we can probably stomach a loss more easily than Ivey.

Obligatory picture of Ivey chilling with maybe $10k in cash at his feet.

* * * * *

I'm enrolled in a clinic (real-world work for course credit) this semester, and I'm getting a lot of great experience representing clients. The place where I work has a lot of client turnover, so I'm in front of a judge and across the aisle from an opposing lawyer frequently. I'm typically in court on the same day each week, which means that I'm often in front of the same judge (and matched up against the same lawyer or two) every time.

My job as a lawyer is to advocate for my client zealously (within the ethical constraints promulgated by the ABA, of course). This is theoretically quite simple: prepare diligently beforehand, make all your tenable arguments to the judge, fight hard for your client, etc. I've found, however, that there's a tendency to pull punches when you're dealing with the same players over and over. Why waste the court's time with a weak argument when you know the judge has almost certainly already made up her mind? Why grill a probation officer in cross-examination when you know you'll have to deal with him next week? Wouldn't you be better served preserving some good will for your next client, whose case's outcome is still up in the air? In my limited experience, I think it's a virtual certainty that you would indeed be better served by "saving your ammunition" for those battles that could go either way. This will keep you on good terms with the other attorney, who will maybe be more willing to agree to a favorable settlement in the future.

Of course, any reputed attorney will quickly point out that it's not a lawyer's job to serve himself. He must serve his client, and it's clearly unethical to sacrifice Client A in order to help Client B. Pulling punches will likely help a lawyer in the long run--if we understand "help" to mean "allow him to achieve a desired outcome as often as possible"--but doing so hurts the client, and that's what really matters.

If Ivey (the role model for poker players) can play poker against his best friends--doing everything in his power to cut their throats, take their money, and leave them talking to themselves**--then surely an attorney can similarly advocate zealously for his clients without worrying about the effect his fight will have on his relationships with judges, attorneys, and other repeat players.

*Favorite lines from that article, just in case you didn't click on the link: "From the 'something only a multi-millionaire could say' file, Ivey casually asked how much the first-place prize paid out moments after the win, genuinely unaware of how much he had earned." Also, "[T]here's no telling how much Ivey will net from prop bets as a result of his bracelet win. 'It was over twenty dollars,' he said in typical understated fashion."

**paraphrasing a Stu Ungar quote (cite)

How to Fly, part 2

2011-04-11T19:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, so you've made it through that obnoxious body-scanner without trouble. Now, what? Read on...

10. Head straight to your gate to ensure that you have the right information, then go straight to the bar or restaurant of your choice. Passengers act like in order to be admitted onto the plane, they need to anchor themselves to a chair in that uncomfortable vestibule. Insider's tip: it's the ticket that gets you aboard, not how long you spent watching CNN Headline News!

11. Use the bathroom right before you get on the plane, so that you likely won't have to go mid-flight. That just saves everyone some trouble. Make sure to wash your hands. Why? Cuz if you don't, it's gross--what kind of question is that?

12. Get back to the gate five to ten minutes after you're supposed to begin boarding; that way, you don't have to wait with the rest of the cattle. Trust me, you'll see them plenty once you're in the air.

13. Assuming you couldn't find someone to gamble with at the kiosk, you're stuck in coach. No big deal. First, put your suitcase in the earliest available overhead storage bin. Show me the amendment to the U.S. Constitution that requires your bag to be directly over your seat. You can't! You just can't. The closer to the front your bag is, the less you have to carry it. Boom.

14. Find your seat. If your neighbor has already arrived, size him/her up. Assign a number 1-10 to both his/her conversation skills and looks. (If your neighbor is of a sex to which you're not attracted, the maximum rating for looks is a 3.) Add the two numbers: if the sum is more than 10, make small talk with your neighbor and jump to Step 16. Else, feign an inability to speak English and proceed to Step 15.

15. Still got that hoodie? Nice. Put the hood up, lean against the window, and snake your mp3 player underneath your sweatshirt so that you can listen to music while the plane is taking off. Yes, it's illegal and probably violates federal law, but this is America and no one's gonna tell me when I can't listen to music! That's censorship!

16. Don't lean your seat back. (I'm talking to you, KK.) The .02 units of utility you gain don't justify the 10 units of disutility you've just imposed on the guy behind you.* In the unlikely event that the person in the seat in front of you doesn't read this blog, put your knees firmly into his seat when you see him moving for the button. Hopefully, he'll feel the bump and realize that you're not the typical tractable traveler. If he presses the button anyways, use your knees to resist his lean. That's the best you can do short of threatening him, unfortunately.

17. Threaten him.

18. Do your best to sleep on the plane, but don't plan on it. If you can't, grab the in-flight magazine and attend to the crossword/Sudoku. Celebrate loudly upon completion, to signal to the plane that you're their intellectual superior. (Never too early to begin angling for the role of "Jack" should your plane crash onto a mysterious island.) If that doesn't pass enough time, head to the Mensa quiz and, only as a last resort, peruse the magazine's articles. Memorize the "Top 5 Plastic Surgeons in ," in case you ever decide to pull the trigger on those calf implants.

19. When it's time for beverage service, make sure you ask for a can of whatever soda you're choosing. That way, they don't stiff you and you get the full twelve ounces. If you feigned English earlier, stammer, "un can of Dr. Pepper, por favor." Try to throw a bit of an accent on it, too. You'll likely get a suspicious glance from your unattractive/uninteresting seat-mate, but pay him no mind: it's your world; he's just living in it.

20. By now, you should be descending. Clutch your armrests, look frantically around the cabin, and scream, "we're going dowwwwn!" It's technically true, so you can't go to prison or anything.

21. All right, we've made it! We touched down, and the pilot just turned off the seatbelt light. Resist the urge to pop out of your seat--you ain't going anywhere, and odds are you'll have to hunch over to stand. When the traffic in front of you finally clears up, stroll comfortably to your carry-on bag, which should be somewhere near the first-class section, and snatch it without breaking stride. Throw a peace sign to the stewardesses, compliment (or criticize) the pilot on the smoothness of his landing, and continue into the terminal, thus ending your journey.

Thanks for reading--I know you had a choice in blogs, and I'm happy that you chose this one.

*ugh, did I just support my argument with utilitarianism? Aniuta would kill me. RIP, Aniuta...gone but not forgotten.

How to Fly

2011-04-06T18:34:00.000-07:00

Being 1100 miles from home has its advantages. For one, I've pretty much mastered the art of air travel. (Unfortunately, much of my mastery has come from trial and error, but no matter.) Here's my foolproof method for making the most out of an airplane flight:

1. Learn how to flip a coin such that you can tell in advance which side it'll land on. Trust me, this is doable.

2. Use kayak.com to find a flight. It compares the fares of multiple airlines (though it omits some, like Southwest), and there aren't any fees to use it. Plus, it has a handy matrix feature that's available once you register (again, for free) that lets you see various prices within a seven-day window.

You take the blue pill, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.

3. Make sure you have the correct dates. I once booked a flight home for Thanksgiving, only to discover that Thanksgiving was actually a week after I'd be headed back to the Chi. Embarrassing and costly, yes. Surprising, no.

4. Go online and choose your seat. Sit as close to the front as possible. It's 10x better to be one of the first ones off the plane than one of the first ones on the plane. I'll leave the "window vs. aisle" question up to you, as it's been discussed many times before. I prefer the window because (1) I don't mind asking the person next to me to stand up when I have to use the bathroom, and (2) it's tough for me to sleep in an aisle seat because I have a constant fear of getting my knee bashed by the drink cart.

5. Pack everything into a carry-on. You get one legitimate suitcase and one backpack/purse to put under your seat. If you can't get fit your stuff into these two items, stay home and hold a fucking garage sale.

Make sure to bring food for the plane--and don't be the guy who buys a malodorous sandwich at the airport and carries it on with him. Have some respect for the people around you. Similarly, avoid foods that can cause a mess or spill easily. You may enjoy a bowl of soup, but while you're eating it, your neighbor will alternate between staring daggers at you and praying that the plane doesn't hit any turbulence. Insider's tip: if you're that unfortunate person seated next to a man who decided to pack a three-course meal, a few well-placed sneezes will deter him from continuing with his dinner.

6. Don't check in beforehand.

7. If it's cold--or if it will be cold in the city you're visiting--wear a hooded sweatshirt to the airport. Planes are often much colder than you'd expect. Make sure to wear one of those surgical masks, as well. That way, people will know how lame and un-American you are.

This guy definitely got all the girls in high school.

7. Get to the airport forty-five minutes before boarding time, more or less. You have at least ten minutes from the start of boarding to make it to your flight, so you're giving yourself almost an hour to make it to the gate. If it's gonna take you more than an hour to navigate security, it's not worth flying. Just eat the airfare, text the person expecting your arrival that you won't be making it after all, and be happy that you didn't waste more than an hour at the airport.

8. When you get to the airport, check in there. Use a self-help kiosk. (General rule: avoid human contact whenever possible.) It shouldn't take more than 5 minutes, and by checking in at the airport, you give yourself an opportunity to switch your seat even closer to the front of the plane. Try your best to snare an exit-row seat. If the kiosk asks you whether you'd like to upgrade to first class, turn to the nearest person and size him up. If he looks like the gambling type *cough Asian cough*, ask him if he wants to flip a coin for upgrades--whereby if you lose, you pay for both upgrades and if he loses, first class is on him. He'll agree, and here's where you work your coin magic. Have him call it before you flip it, then obviously flip it in a way that is beneficial to you. If he reneges, wave over TSA and tell 'em you heard he mentioned something about a bomb or a hijacking. That way, at least he'll miss his flight. (You'll likely miss yours, too, but it's part of the Gambler's Code to punish welshers.)

9. While in line to go through security, take the following items off or out of your pockets and put them into your backpack/purse: wallet, keys, cell phone, belt, jacket/sweater. Empty your pockets completely so that you don't have loose items going on the conveyor belt. (You'll need your ID, so extract that from your wallet beforehand but put it back in there immediately after getting the check-off from the post-man.) Put the shoes on the belt directly, unless instructed otherwise, but keep them on until it's time to be x-rayed. Why walk across the floor in your socks when you don't have to?

If you're traveling with a laptop, take it out of your backpack and put it in a tray by itself. If you're without a notebook computer, you're likely going to be asked by TSA whether you have one, anyways--apparently, people forget to remove them from their bags all the time. This is your time to shine. After TSA asks you, "sir/ma'am, do you have a laptop?" say something like, "no, thanks, I'm not really in the market for one right now." Make sure you say it loudly enough for everyone to hear, as this retort is sure to draw a chuckle and an approving smile from every passenger and security agent within earshot. If you don't get the desired reaction, repeat your line word for word because they must not have heard you. If you hit the jackpot and get asked, "sir/ma'am, do you have a P.C.," scoff and respond as condescendingly as possible, "no, I have a Mac....and it's at home."

Hurray, you've made it through security! Part II to follow...

From J.D. to Lawyer (Texas)

2011-03-08T13:00:00.000-08:00

I've had this happen to me multiple times in the past few years when meeting new people:

Stranger 1: "So, what do you do for a living?"
Me: "Oh, I'm actually in law school."
Stranger 1: "Wow, that's cool! You must be smart."

The responses vary, of course, but they generally have undertones of respect and admiration. But, when I have conversations like this one...

Stranger 2: "So, what do you do for a living?"
Me: "Well, I'm becoming a lawyer."

...the reaction is more typically this:

Stranger 2: "Oh, a lawyer--I'd better watch my wallet." or "Are you gonna be one of those guys who defends big corporations?" or "Great, just what this world needs--another lawyer."

I understand the differences in response: law school conjures up images of a venerable and esteemed institution where students work hard to master the intricacies of the legal system, whereas a lawyer is a pedantic, argumentative drain on society's resources. Still, I think it's amusing that the closer you get to joining the profession, the less respect afforded to you.*

So, with that long-winded hook behind us, let's proceed to the matter at hand. What does it take to become an actual lawyer in Texas? In short: a lot of paperwork and a healthy bank account. But, as my Crim Law prof. once said, "let's put some meat on those bones."

First, I had to file a Declaration of Intent to study law in Texas. That'll cost you $190--if you file that before October 1 of your 1L year. Who does that?! On September 30, 2008, I had no idea whether I wanted to practice in Texas, or Illinois, or California, or Alabama.** So, I paid the $150 "late" fee as well.

The Declaration of Intent asked me for my employment history, whether I had ever failed to file a tax return, etc. It also wanted 6 character references from people who were neither family (too biased, I suppose) nor law students (too predisposed to lie, maybe??). The Board of Law Examiners (the organization who decides whether I get to join the Bar or not) then proceeds to run a background check on me. It makes sure that I have the proper character and fitness to become a lawyer--not a problem for most of us but could be a difficult hurdle to clear if you've, say, filed for bankruptcy or committed a serious crime.

Next, I had to sign up to take the Bar itself. That cost me $450, which, believe it or not, is actually fairly reasonable. (That money includes a late fee of $150 as well; this time, however, I had more than enough time to file and the blame falls on me for being untimely.)

I also paid a mere $60 to take the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam (MPRE). That's the only test, other than the Bar, that Texans have to pass in order to become licensed attorneys. Virtually every state requires that its would-be members of the Bar pass this test (although the passing score varies from state to state). It's administered three times a year; in fact, I just took the MPRE this Saturday. It's only a 2-hour test with 60 multiple-choice questions, so it's certainly not an onerous exam. It does require a few days of studying, of course, but that's certainly to be expected.

Then, last but certainly not least, you take the Bar Exam itself. That's a three-day test that is administered in February and July--people typically take the test in July after they've graduated. It's a combination of multiple choice and essay questions. Topics that the Bar Exam covers include torts, contracts, property, wills, and much more. You could rely on your old notes and your intrinsic motivation to prepare, but most just cave and purchase a private bar review class for a very healthy sum ($3000, approximately). The review class for Texas begins in mid-May and lasts until July, and people typically spend 40 hours a week engaged in some sort of preparation for the Bar.

In November, you get your results. Hopefully, you've passed! Everyone who passes gets his name listed on a website somewhere, apparently, so if you fail it you're name may be conspicuously absent from the list. Not to fear, though: over 90% of UT Law grads pass the Texas Bar, so you'd probably have to blow it off in order to fail.***

So, grand totals: $3850; weeks of studying; days of test-taking. But, on the plus side, I, uh, get to become a lawyer and have years of those awkward "what do you do" conversations at dinner parties.

*If you're looking to split hairs, you could argue that it's not a sliding scale of respect but rather a consistent amount of respect until one discrete point in your law career. I have two responses: (1) not always true, in my experience--for example, when it becomes known that I'm in my final year of school, it becomes more evident to the stranger that I'll soon be completing my metamorphosis from Productive Member of Society to Lawyer and I in turn engender less respect; (2) you'd make an excellent law student.

**Okay, I'll admit that I knew from Day 1 that I didn't want to practice law in Alabama.

***In November, I may regret typing that sentence.

Inducing the Spaz

2011-02-25T14:18:00.000-08:00

(For my non-poker-playing readers, I've included a glossary of terms at the end of this post. The words in bold in the body of the post are those that are defined at its end.)

This lesson deals with what I call the "spaz-induction" play. Poker players use the term "spaz" to describe when a player attempts a high-risk, fairly ludicrous bluff that comes out of nowhere. (You know how sometimes your opponent's play is a little suspicious, and a little voice pops into your head, saying, "you know what, I could probably just go all in and knock him off his hand"? Most of us ignore that voice like 95% of the time, because the risk is too great that you'll be caught red-handed. That other 5% of the time exemplifies spazzing. Spazzing is such a great word for this phenomenon, because it illustrates the situation perfectly: you realize that the smart play is to fold and pick a better spot, but out of nowhere--and virtually uncontrollably--you ignore your superego and push all in with such spontaneity that it almost seems like a spasm.) Spazzing is a form of tilt, and much like there are ways to provoke a player into tilting, there are methods for inducing a spaz.

Of course, before you decide to induce spaz, you have to make sure that you're willing to snap off your opponent. After you induce spaz, your opponent is going to make an overbet for most of your chips--if you're not willing to call this big bet with a marginal hand (say, TPTK), it logically follows that you shouldn't provoke the spaz in the first place.

Okay, so now you know (1) what spaz is and (2) when you should or should not induce it. Now we need to know how exactly we can provoke a spaz. Obviously, there's no scientific formula, but the general way to do it is to play so bizarrely that your opponent gets flustered and, well, spazzes out. Furthermore, your bizarre play should be an underbet as opposed to an overbet, so you can trick your opponent into believing that he can make a successful bluff. Playing bizarrely, however, obviously means deviating from your standard (and theoretically perfect) play. Thus, the bizarre deviation will necessarily be a less than optimal play in the long run. As a result, you should only attempt to induce spaz when your hand is a virtual lock.

In the below example, my hand is very safe--the opponent has something along the lines of JJ or AJ, and thus has only a few outs. We can afford to make a "bizarre" underbet here because even if he fails to spaz out and calls, he'll still be calling with improper pot odds. If the board were wetter or if our opponent had a wider range, he'd have more outs and a bizarre bet would be ill-advised because it'd likely give our opponent favorable odds to call.

Poker Stars $2/$4 No Limit Hold'em - 9 players

BB: $86.00

UTG: $74.00

UTG+1: $112.65 [VPIP 10 PFR 7 through 30 hands]

UTG+2: $84.00

MP1: $80.00

MP2: $243.70 ***[VPIP 45 PFR 9 through 11 hands]***

CO: $74.00

Hero (BTN): $435.00

SB: $97.10

Pre Flop: ($6.00) Hero is BTN with AdKc

1 fold, UTG+1 calls $4, 2 folds, MP2 raises to $20, 1 fold, Hero raises to $60, 3 folds, MP2 calls $40

The preflop play is fairly standard. Admittedly, MP2's preflop raise after a limper suggests some strength, but it's a -EV play to fold here when, as here, MP2 is likely a fish. Some players may advocate for a smooth-call here on the premise that you should keep the pot small preflop so that you have more chips (and "weapons") at your disposal for the postflop play. That argument is for a different day.

Flop: ($130.00) Ah 9s 7c

MP2 checks, Hero bets $52, MP2 raises to $183.70 all in, Hero calls $131.70

Here we see the spaz at work. We underbet the pot, tempting our opponent to try a bluff. To this point, the opponent probably had no plan but to check-fold this A-high flop (unless he has something like AJ, in which case it doesn't matter what we bet because he's never folding a pair of aces). The funky bet probably gives him pause, though, and something like this goes through his head: "Hmm, what a small bet. He would've bet much bigger if he had AK. Hey, maybe he hates the ace on the flop as much as I do. I've already got so much in this pot, and I hate just to throw away a hand like QQ. I've been playing for an hour and haven't gotten a hand this good, and now I'm supposed to fold it? Hell, no. I'm gonna check/raise this donkey and show my hand when he folds. ALL IN!"

SNAP-CALL-FIST-PUMP.

Turn: ($497.40) Tc

River: ($497.40) 8c

Final Pot: $497.40

MP2 shows QdQh

Hero shows AdKc

Hero wins $494.40

(Rake: $3.00)

Glossary:

-EV: Shorthand for less than optimal (origin: "negative expected value")

Check-fold (abbreviated "c/f"): To check, and then, if facing a bet from an opponent, to fold. Ex: if you had 87 on a AK9 board, you'd probably be check-folding.

Check-raise (abbreviated "c/r"): To check, and then, if facing a bet from an opponent, to raise that bet.

Limper: One who calls the big blind (as opposed to raising it) preflop

Outs: cards that will win the player the pot.

Overbet: To bet a bigger percentage of the pot than what is common/expected. Typically, a competent player bets about 70% the size of the pot on each street, so an example of an overbet would be when a player bets 125% the size of the pot.

Range: all possible hands an opponent could reasonably have. Ex: if your opponent is fairly tight and has just reraised you before the flop, you can reasonably assign him a range of {TT, JJ, QQ, KK, AA, AQ, AK}, abbreviated as TT+, AQ+.

Snap Off: To call an opponent's bluff quickly and confidently. In a sentence: "I put him on a missed flush draw and, being out of position, I checked to him, hoping that he'd try to bluff at the pot. He did, and I snapped him off with bottom pair to drag the pot."

(Related: the phrase "snap-call-fist-pump", which means that you snap call (ie, call quickly) and celebrate (via fist pump) before the cards are flipped because you know your opponent is weak and that you have him crushed.)

Tilt: to allow an emotion (anger, frustration, boredom) to make you play less than optimally

TPTK: top pair, top kicker. Ex's: AJ on a J32 board; AK on an A62 board.

Underbet: To bet a smaller percentage of the pot than what is common/expected.

VPIP/PFR: Percentage of times that a player Voluntarily Puts Money into the Pot or makes a Pre-Flop Raise, respectively. A tight player has a low VPIP, a loose player has a high VPIP, an aggressive player has a near 1-to-1 ratio of VPIP to PFR, and a passive (fishy) player typically has a much higher VPIP than PFR.

Wet: replete with draws. For example, a board of Qd 9h 8h is wet because there are both straight draws and a flush draw out there. A wet board means a few things: if you have a made hand, you typically want to bet to protect it. Also, if you have a made hand, you're willing to get all-in with less of a hand than you'd be on a dry board because it's more likely that your opponent is semi-bluffing (pushing a draw in hopes that you fold).

Robbing a Casino for Dummies

2011-02-20T21:35:00.000-08:00

On December 14, 2010, the Bellagio got robbed. The thief's modus operandi wasn't exactly reminiscent of Danny Ocean, however--more like Snake from The Simpsons. He drove his motorcycle up to the front door, dashed in, and swiped $1.5m in chips at gunpoint from a craps table. He bolted out, hopped on his bike, and drove off into the Vegas night.

Of course, if the story ended there, it wouldn't be newsworthy (or even blog-worthy). The man had stolen both $5k chips and $25k chips known as "cranberries" for their distinct color. (See the accompanying image.)

While the $5k chips were easy enough to dispose of, the cranberries were too unique to simply bring them to a cage (the slang term for the cashier's window in a casino) and get them cashed. As such, our friend the Biker Bandit went about trying to sell the cranberries at a discount. (Note: a lot of other amusing stuff accompanied this robbery, as the police report indicates. I recommend reading the report in full if you have some time to do so.)

Around the same time, the robbery was a bit of a hot topic on twoplustwo.com ("2p2"), a popular gambling forum. Members wondered how easily a person could cash in a stolen chip, and one poster wondered, "over/under 20 times a day the robber views threads like these?" Here's where the story gets good...

A poster who joined the forum in January of 2011 and went by the name "oceanspray25" and indicated his location is "Cranada" quoted this post and responded, "Under 20 but more than 3 brother. Know anyone lookin for a bargain on a few pieces of fruit? Great for the liver and kidney and they make great stocking stuffers" (emphasis added). I know y'all have figured it out by now, but let's break it down anyways, just for hilarity's sake.

First off, "oceanspray25?" "Cranada?" I guess one reference to a cranberry didn't suffice--he needed three.
Believe it or not, people don't sell fruit on 2p2--let alone for bargains.
I like the reference to the body's internal organs, but I would've preferred a "what, you on your period or something?" allusion a la The Departed. Alas.

Our buddy oceanspray25 clearly was so desperate to move this hot "fruit" that he put himself in plain sight on a popular forum. In fact, he actually messaged another member to inquire about his interest in buying the cranberries. Unsurprisingly, he got caught shortly thereafter.

The Biker Bandit clearly isn't playing with a full deck, but you've gotta admire his willingness to lay his chips on the table (so to speak).

Ricci v. DeStefano

2010-12-12T08:52:00.000-08:00

Howdy, folks--a buddy of mine asked about this case a while back, and I can finally give him the answer he deserves. I actually have a final tomorrow (Monday) on this class, so the timing worked out well.

Background: Ricci v. DeStefano was decided by the Supreme Court in June 2009. It received a fair amount of media coverage, so maybe the facts will ring a bell.

Disclaimer: this case required me to summarize a healthy portion of employment discrimination law. For your sake and mine, I elided over some of the parts that weren't relevant. So, if you're an employment law scholar and you're reading this, don't expect it to cover every twist and turn in the Title VII landscape.

FACTS:

Crucial to our understanding of the case, of course, is a firm grip on the facts that led to the legal controversy. (I'm mainly pulling these facts from the majority opinion as found in this textbook. I'm going to omit quotes, citations, etc. to make this more readable. Don't sue me for plagiarism!)

In 2003, 118 New Haven firefighters took written examinations to attempt to qualify for promotion to the rank of lieutenant or captain. These tests made up 60% of each applicant's total score--the other 40% came from an oral examination. The collective bargaining agreement between the city and the firefighters' union set some experience and education requirements as prerequisites for taking the test. (I'm just mentioning that so it's clear that a rookie with great test-taking ability would not have had a chance to get promoted.)

New Haven hired an outside firm, IOS, to develop and administer both the written and oral tests. IOS performed job analyses to identify the tasks, knowledge, skills, and abilities essential for the lieutenant and captain positions. For example, IOS interviewed incumbent captains/lieutenants, rode along with on-duty officers, etc. At every stage, IOS deliberately oversampled minority firefighters to ensure that the results would not unintentionally favor white candidates.

IOS drafted a 100-question multiple choice exam written below a 10th-grade level (presumably so that firefighting attributes, rather than reading comprehension, would be tested). IOS compiled a list of training manuals, procedures, etc. New Haven gave this list to the test-takers three months in advance, so that the candidates would have a chance to study for the exam.

For the oral exam, IOS assembled a pool of 30 assessors, all from outside of Connecticut and all superior in rank to the positions being tested. New Haven gave its approval of each of the assessors. 66% of the panelists were minorities, and each of the nine three-member assessment panels contained two minority members. (I know, I know--9 * 3 is 27, not 30. Maybe there were 3 alternates?)

New Haven's city charter imposed a "rule of three"--whoever was promoted had to be among the top three scorers. This means that if there was 1 spot open, the promoted candidate would have to have scored in the top 3. If 10 spots were open, all 10 candidates would have to have been in the top 12 (because the 10th promote was either 10th, 11th, or 12th). So, there's a bit of flexibility but not much.

Candidates took the tests in late 2003. Seventy-seven candidates took the lieutenant test (43 whites, 19 blacks, 15 Hispanics). 34 passed (25 whites, 6 blacks, 3 Hispanics). Eight lieutenant positions were vacant, so under the rule of 3, only the top 10 candidates were eligible for immediate promotion. Everyone in the top 10 was white.

Forty-one candidates took the captain examination (25 whites, 8 blacks, 8 Hispanics). 22 passed (16 whites, 3 blacks, 3 Hispanics). Seven captain positions were vacant, so (under the rule of three) 9 candidates were eligible for immediate promotion: 7 whites and 2 Hispanics.

New Haven got the results, and it's safe to say that it wasn't happy. The New Haven Civil Service Board (CSB) had the task of deciding whether to certify the results. CSB was shown lists displaying the candidates' races and scores, but not their names, at least. Some of the firefighters, without knowing who passed or who failed, spoke at the first CSB meeting in favor of certifying the results. There were some sob stories about how hard they had studied and how much time/money they had devoting to preparing for the tests. One man was even dyslexic and hired his neighbor to read the materials on tape, the poor guy! (I'm not trying to make light of his learning disability; I'm scoffing at how the Court included this in its summary of the facts--doesn't seem germane to the legal issues at play.) Other firefighters spoke against certifying the test results, calling the questions outdated and irrelevant.

The CSB held more meetings and, to its credit, conducted extensive research into the validity/reliability of the test as well as the legal ramifications of certifying. Ultimately, the CSB voted 2 to 2 on the use of the test results, which meant that the results would not be certified. The evidence--at least as a majority of Supreme Court justices saw it--suggests that the tests were fair and that the CSB chose not to certify because of the racial disparity.

Seventeen of the white firefighters and one Hispanic firefighter who passed the tests got together and sued the city of New Haven. Frank Ricci, the named plaintiff, is one of them. (Who's DeStefano, you ask? He's the mayor of New Haven--clearly you don't go to Yale. Don't worry, neither do I.) There was a ton of procedural history (appeals, etc.), but all you need to know is that the case eventually got in front of the Supreme Court.

LAW

Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act prohibits employment discrimination on the basis of race, sex, national origin, etc. Title VII prohibits two major types of discrimination: disparate treatment and disparate impact. To understand Ricci, we're going to have to gain a basic understanding of each of these terms:

Simply put, "disparate treatment" is intentional discrimination on the basis of race or any other protected trait. When you hear "discrimination," you almost certainly picture some type of disparate treatment. For example, if an employer chooses not to promote a black employee (for simplicity's sake, let's call him "Barry") because he's black, the employer is intentionally discriminating on the basis of race. Thus, he's in violation of Title VII. That's easy. Let's make it more complicated...

The employer chooses not to promote Barry, but solely on the basis that the black employee is less qualified than his white coworker (how about "Walker"). This, almost as obviously, is not disparate treatment. Sure, the employer is "discriminating" in one sense in that he's distinguishing two employees, but the employer is not discriminating on the basis of race. That's the key.

Okay, same facts (employer promotes a better-qualified white coworker over a less qualified black coworker), but this time, the employer let race play a role in the decision. The employer thought to himself, "This candidate is black, and I don't want to promote a black person. Also, Barry doesn't have the managerial skills that Walker does," and then proceeded to promote Walker. What now? Well, it turns out that we do indeed have disparate treatment. The law says that if race, etc. plays a "motivating factor" in the employment decision--even if other factors also motivated the decision--this establishes an unlawful employment practice under Title VII. This is where people's opinions start to fracture. Most will agree that Situation 1 should be illegal, and most will agree that Situation 2 should not be illegal. Situation 3 is much tougher, though. On the one hand, Barry was clearly looked at differently than Walker, and isn't one major purpose of law to protect equality? On the other hand, the result would have been the same whether Barry was black or white--even had he been white, he would have missed out on the promotion. So, how can we hold the employer liable when the same result would've occurred regardless of Barry's skin color?

Those first three scenarios covered various ways in which an employer can discriminate (or not) on an individual basis. Of course, system-wide discrimination--referred to as "Systemic Disparate Treatment"--is also unlawful under Title VII in almost* every case. There are two types of systemic disparate treatment: overt (a stated policy of discriminating) and covert (no stated policy but a de facto practice of discriminating), and each type comes with its own procedures. Happily, we needn't concern ourselves with the details of each; the takeaway is that systemic disparate treatment is illegal under Title VII.

Now that we've covered "disparate treatment," we can spend a few seconds on "disparate impact." Disparate impact makes it illegal for an employer to use a facially neutral practice to achieve a discriminatory effect, unless the practice is related to the job and consistent with business necessity. That definition might leave you scratching your head, but an example or two will make it clear:

In the watershed case in this area, the employer administered an intelligence test to all applicants and only hired those who scored above a certain threshold. (Sounds familiar...) Unlike Ricci, however, the applicants in this earlier case were applying for unskilled positions. The test is neutral on its face--it's just as hard for blacks as it is for whites. The test had a discriminatory effect, however--a way bigger percentage of whites passed than did blacks. The Supreme Court held this practice illegal under Title VII, and, even though I'm a free-market guy, I tend to agree. In this first case, it was fairly obvious that the employer was giving its applicants this intelligence test just to weed out the black applicants--before Title VII had passed, the employer had been openly discriminating against blacks--and the test had nothing to do with the job requirements.

Some tests are fine, however--that goes back to the "job-related" and "business necessity" component of our definition. No need to get into the specifics of what will be illegal under Title VII and what won't. For our purposes, we simply need to know that giving a test that's fair in form but discriminatory in effect is illegal, unless the test is job-related for the position in question and consistent with business necessity.

APPLICATION:

So, let's now apply the law we just learned to our facts (if you still remember them after slogging through that boring lecture).

New Haven chose not to certify the test because of the statistical disparity based on race. This is systemic disparate treatment--systemwide discrimination on the basis of race. To show systemic disparate treatment, the plaintiffs need to show that the defendant (New Haven) had either a race-based classification or a race-based goal. Here, the city's goal of promoting diversity or balancing the composition of the fire department officers is race-based (no matter how benevolent it is), and thus it's disparate treatment. Note that had the Court determined that the city's goal was simply to come up with a better test, the goal would've been neutral and New Haven likely would have prevailed in this case.
The Court found that by rejecting the test, New Haven was trying to avoid disparate-impact liability. Remember that the test had a disproportionate impact on the races. That put New Haven in danger of violating the "disparate impact" aspect of Title VII. By now, you kinda have to feel for the city--if it certifies the test, it risks a lawsuit from black candidates. If it doesn't certify the test, it risks a lawsuit from those who were in line for the promotions.

At this point, the main question is this: whether the purpose to avoid disparate-impact liability (by not certifying the tests) excuses what otherwise would be illegal disparate-treatment discrimination (using race as the reason not to certify the tests). We have to reconcile these two components of Title VII. Still with me? I hope so.

At this point, the Court makes a determination of law based on precedent, reason, etc. It holds that before an employer can engage in intentional discrimination for the purpose of avoiding a disparate impact, the employer must have a strong basis in evidence to believe that it will be subject to disparate-impact liability if it fails to take the race conscious, discriminatory action. What does this mean? It means that the defendant (here, New Haven,) has to look at the entire definition of disparate impact and determine whether there's a strong basis in evidence that it faced liability.

Applying this standard to our facts, it's clear (to the Court) that the city would have avoided liability. Admittedly, the black applicants would have been able to bring a case because New Haven did use a test that had a discriminatory result. BUT--the Court found that New Haven would have avoided liability because the tests were job-related and consistent with business necessity. As a result, the Court concluded that there was no strong basis in evidence for the defendant to fear a disparate-impact suit. Thus, for the city to take the discriminatory action of throwing out the test results on the basis of race was held unlawful. The plaintiffs win.

I know that was a lot. If you made it all the way through, thanks very much for reading. Happy holidays.

*I say "almost" because the employer is allowed to have this overt policy of systemic discrimination if the discrimination is based on a "bona fide occupational qualification." If the BFOQ is "reasonably necessary to the normal operation" of the employer's business, he'll be allowed to discriminate. For example, a prison's hiring policy that required prison guards to be of the same sex as inmates was held valid because women guards simply would not have been able to keep the prison safe. This is a very narrow defense, however. For example, an airline's policy of hiring only female flight attendants because "that's what the customers want" was held illegal because it's not necessary to the airline's normal operation to have nothing but female flight attendants. Customer preference is very rarely an appropriate reason for systemic discrimination. One more note: the BFOQ defense is only available for overt systemic disparate treatment. If the employer is covertly discriminating system-wide (ex: a company has no formal policy but never hires women), the BFOQ defense cannot come in.

Back to School

2010-08-25T21:53:00.001-07:00

First off, let me wassup to Chicago's own, Mr. Michael Chin. Looking forward to Portillo's, Chay-Money.

So, 3L year began today. I'm enrolled in five classes that cover diverse topics of law--five classes is a lot but I somehow managed to cram them all into the first three days of the working week, so I have a four-day weekend. Ship it.

First class of the day: Antitrust, taught by this guy. Some of the highlights of that brief wikipedia entry: my professor was nominated to be a judge on the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals (one step below the U.S. Supreme Court) but his ultra-conservative writings were so controversial he was not a politically viable nominee. Bummer! On the plus side, he's married to a woman who wrote an anti-feminist book, so you know he's probably not doing the dishes.

After Antitrust comes Evidence. Class only meets on Mondays and Tuesdays, and since UT's calendar begins on Wednesday for some reason, I can't elaborate much on the course. Long story short: it's a class that takes 3 months to answer the question, "is this piece of evidence admissible at trial?"

After Evidence comes Jimmy John's, most likely. Vito, Italian Night Club, even the Veggie sub--can't go wrong with any of 'em.

After my lunch break, I head to Criminal Procedure, which explains the various procedures that occur between arrest and trial (assuming there is a trial). To sum this one up, just check out this helpful flowchart:

We talked briefly today about an accused's right to probable cause, and already I'm learning new things. For example, did you know that a person who is arrested must be "presented" before a judicial officer without substantial delay? "Substantial delay" isn't precisely defined, of course--if law were cut-and-dried, no one would hire expensive lawyers--but it basically means that you get to appear in front of a magistrate (minor-league judge) within 48 hours and he decides whether the cop who hauled you down to jail had probable cause to do so. (Probable cause has two elements: (1) has a crime been committed and (2) does evidence exist to link the crime to the person being detained?) So, next time you get arrested for, say, DWI, you'll know why you're appearing in front of someone in robes. Note that this isn't a trial: you aren't necessarily entitled to a lawyer and you might not even get a chance to give your side of the story (I say "might" because each state has different procedure), but it's better than nothing.

As a reference point, our professor told a story about how a drug smuggler got detained in France over the summer (while the judges were on their five-week vacations that the denizens of Francia cherish so dearly), asked for a probable cause determination in front of a neutral third-party (ie, a judge), and was told, "sure, no problem...as soon as a judge gets back in late August, we'll get you in front of him." Ouch. What's worse is that he's stuck in jail until then, because no one is around to set bail. Those lazy sonsuvbitches, that's why we had to bail them out in WW2!

My working day concludes with either Employment Discrimination Law (Mondays and Wednesdays) or a Federal Criminal Prosecution seminar (Tuesdays). I can't remark on the seminar because I haven't had a class yet, but I'm sure it'll be just as interesting as it sounds. Regarding Employment Discrimination, this course tackles the age-old question of "I don't want to [hire/promote/respect] the [black/old/atheist/gay] [woman/pregnant woman], but how can I treat her badly (and how badly can I treat her) before I risk getting a pesky lawsuit on my hands?" Since 1964, white men like myself have been struggling with the answer--hopefully this class will shine some light on the topic.

But seriously, folks, this course seems interesting to me. One question we mulled over today was this: must there be some sort of intent to discriminate (or, at the least, knowledge of discrimination) before we give relief to the protected class member, or are actions sufficient? For example, most of us agree that we should award damages to a black person who is not hired solely because he was black.* But, what if the prospective employer--an honest, decent man who has no prejudices and has no intent to discriminate against any race/sex/religion--administers a test as a precondition of employment? Let's say that the test is neutral on its face but has the result of disqualifying a disproportionately higher percentage of blacks than other races. Should a black person who fails the employer's test (and consequently isn't hired) get relief, or should the employer be allowed to administer the test? Does it matter whether the test relates to the position for which the prospective employees are applying?

All in all, should be a pretty fun semester--being a 3L is great. You can check out the hot new 1Ls, you know where all your classes are and just how much you can slack off without it affecting your grade, and you have an ever-growing group of friends with whom to gchat while the professor digresses. I'll try to update this blog whenever I learn something that a reasonable person may find interesting. Until then, enjoy the rest of y'all's summers.

*I know there are free-market arguments against this, but in the long run we're all dead and blah blah blah.

This picture sums up the way I play poker

2010-07-20T18:09:00.000-07:00

A Funny Hand (little to no analysis, I promise!)

2010-06-26T23:34:00.000-07:00

On 2p2 (the popular poker forum I browse), it's customary to include humorous and fitting pictures to go with the hand history you're posting. Why? Probably because the hand is often far more interesting to the poster than the readers, so to compensate, the poster tries to jazz up the hand with some funny jpegs.

Note: the opponent is a competent regular. If this were a fish, I'd be playing much differently.

Poker Stars $3/$6 No Limit Hold'em - 2 players
The Official 2+2 Hand Converter Powered By DeucesCracked.com

BTN/SB: $763.00
Hero (BB): $600.00

Pre Flop: ($9.00) Hero is BB with 4 6
BTN/SB raises to $18, Hero raises to $54,

BTN/SB calls $36

Flop: ($108.00) 5 Q Q (2 players)
Hero bets $66,

BTN/SB calls $66

Turn: ($240.00) J (2 players)
Hero checks,

BTN/SB checks

River: ($240.00) 6 (2 players)

Hero checks, BTN/SB bets $138,

Hero calls $138

Final Pot: $516.00
BTN/SB shows 8 9 (a pair of Queens)
Hero shows 4 6 (two pair, Queens and Sixes)
Hero wins $515.50
(Rake: $0.50)

A few quick thoughts on this hand:

Our opponent could have won this hand on either the flop or the turn, had he raised. You really need to turn up the aggression when you're playing heads-up, and he didn't.
I felt okay with calling here because I couldn't put him on a huge hand (like three queens) because he checked the turn and I couldn't put him on a marginal hand that still beat me (like 77) because I didn't think this particular opponent had the capacity to value-bet that thin. Honestly, someone with 77 or the like should be checking the river because I could easily have 99, JT, etc.
This hand is a good example of how tough the games are these days and of how high-variance heads-up play can be.

Value-Betting for Beginners

2010-06-24T12:00:00.001-07:00

To value-bet is to make a bet after the flop with the hope of getting called. Knowing when to make a value bet (and how much to bet) is a necessary skill for a winning player to acquire and cultivate. As you may know, most bet sizes are determined as a percentage of the pot. (For example, I typically make a bet in the amount of about 70% of the pot.) As the pot grows, the size of the bet necessarily grows. As such, the decisions that you make on later streets (the turn and the river) will involve bigger amounts. Since all we care about is money, clearly these bets are very important to our bottom line.

For example, suppose you're in a hand that has involved some betting throughout. When the river falls, it gives you three of a kind (but also puts a third heart on the board). By now, the size of the pot is, say, $300. Your opponent checks to you. You are scared that your opponent has a flush, so you check behind. He shows you two pair. You win the hand, but by failing to make a value bet on the river, you've missed out on anywhere from $150 to $200 of your opponent's money. That may not seem like much to those of you working at Baker Botts or Google or whatever, but that's some real folding money to me.

Since value-betting is such an essential skill, it probably won't surprise you to learn that it is a very nuanced, intricate decision. Obviously, if you have an unbeatable hand, you're going to be betting, but what if your hand is a marginal one? That is, your hand is probably better than your opponent's but if your opponent raised your bet, you'd have to fold. Should you still bet? This situation is dependent on the type of opponent you're facing. If your opponent is very passive, he's easier to value-bet because you don't have to fear being check-raised. Inversely, you have to be wary of an aggressive opponent--he's liable to raise you (either for value or to bluff you off a marginal hand). Considerations like this one are beyond the scope of this introductory post--I just want to demonstrate some of the intricacies involved.

In determining whether to value bet, you simply must put your opponent on a range of hands. I've seen beginners go through a process similar to this: "Well, I have two pair. That's okay, I guess, but it's worse than a straight flush, quads, a full house, a flush, a straight, or three-of-a-kind. I guess it's not a very good hand." The beginner fallaciously believes that his hand has an absolute value. This is wrong. The only value that your hand has is its value relative to your opponent's hand. You can lose pots with full houses and you can win 'em with Ace-high.

**As your hand only has relative value, you need to determine your opponent's hand so you can decide just how relatively valuable your hand actually is.** Here is a fairly routine example of this process. As the focus of this post is the value-bet on the river, I will be eliding over the play on the other streets.

Poker Stars $2/$4 No Limit Hold'em - 5 players

Hero (CO): $410.60
BTN: $454.15
SB: $1056.50
BB (slightly loose, definitely passive): $416.00
UTG: $469.00

Pre Flop: ($6.00) Hero is CO with A 8
1 fold, Hero raises to $12, 2 folds, BB raises to $24, Hero calls $12

We've been playing this guy for about an hour and we haven't seen him 3bet (a/k/a "reraise") before the flop. Thus, we can assign him a pretty reliable range of JJ+, AK. So, we're clearly behind but we have "implied odds" to justify our call. Basically, our thinking is this: "hey, this guy has a hand he's in love with. If I can catch a flop and crack his big pair, I can probably take him for a decent-sized pot. If I airball the flop, I merely lose a small pot and no harm is done. My hand--a suited ace--lends itself to big flops, so let's invest this $12 and try to catch gin."

Flop: ($50.00) 5 5 9 (2 players)
BB bets $20, Hero calls $20

Great flop for us. We could throw in a raise but we have very little fold equity because we're pretty sure he has a big pair and fish hate folding big pairs (justifiably so). Let's keep the pot small until we're winning.

Turn: ($90.00) T (2 players)
BB bets $32, Hero raises to $72, BB calls $40

Boom. We have our flush and if our range is accurate, we know we're ahead. We could get cute and simply call the turn bet, but we want to build the pot while our opponent still likes his hand. If we smooth-call and a fourth spade comes on the river, that could freeze our man and we'd be left with winning a small pot. We do not want to win a small pot, especially in this situation where we called the preflop 3bet knowing we were behind for the express purpose of flopping big and winning a big pot.

When he calls our raise, we can rule AK out of his range (unless he has the king of spades, perhaps). So, now we're putting him on JJ+. Yes, I suppose he could have TT but that's quite unlikely considering he didn't reraise us on the turn.

River: ($234.00) 9 (2 players)
BB checks, Hero bets $40, BB calls $40

Any fear of TT (or 99, I suppose) evaporated when he checked the river. Now we know exactly where we are: we have a flush and he has an overpair to the board. If we were beginners, we might be tempted to think to ourselves, "Shoot, now any 9 or any 5 beats us. There's so many full houses out there that maybe we should be careful and just check behind." Luckily, we're thinking players who realize that although the board looks scary for someone with a flush, it is nearly impossible for our opponent to have a better hand. We have determined (approximately) what our opponent's hand is, and now we know that relative to his hand, our hand is valuable. Also, we know from observing our opponent that he's fairly passive and we thus don't have to fear a check-raise from him that would probably force us to fold.

So, we've done all the hard work--now it's just a question of extracting value. Here we only bet $40--we probably could have gone as high as $60, honestly. (We don't need to talk about bet sizing today..we've enough on our plate as it is.)

Final Pot: $314.00
Hero shows A 8 (a flush, Ace high)
BB mucks Q Q
Hero wins $312.00
(Rake: $2.00)

ez game.

The "Write the Future" Curse

2010-06-24T11:27:00.000-07:00

"Write the Future" is the name of the breathtaking Nike soccer ad that feels more like a movie trailer. While the reviews have been resoundingly positive, its cast has performed less than admirably in real life. Could there be a "Write the Future" curse? Let's examine the evidence.

First, here's the ad in case y'all haven't seen it yet:

Let's break it down:

1. The first player to touch the ball is Didier Drogba, from the Côte d'Ivoire (Ivory Coast). Days before the World Cup, Drogba broke his arm in a friendly against Japan. While he has admirably taken the pitch despite the injury, his contributions have been limited. Furthermore, his team will likely fail to advance from its group.

2. Fabio Cannavaro takes over next in the commercial. Italy--the team for which Cannavaro plays and the defending champions--lost today to Slovakia and consequently finished last in its group (a group widely believed to be the weakest of the 8).

3. After Cannavaro comes Wayne Rooney, the diminutive English striker. While England has advanced, they look very shaky (they finished behind the United States, need I say more?) and Rooney has been kept off the scoresheet. I'm gonna chalk this up as evidence in favor of the curse.

4. When Rooney makes his heroic tackle, the commercial cuts to scenes of Rooney's popularity/greatness, including one where he bests Roger Federer at ping-pong. Federer has struggled mightily at Wimbledon this year, getting taken to five sets in his first match and going to four in his next (both against unknown opponents).

5. Next after Rooney we see the one-and-only Ronaldinho, the oft-imitated Brazilian superstar. At this point you're thinking, "Brazil have looked untouchable so far...surely this can't be evidence of a curse." But wait, don't forget that Ronaldinho himself was left off Brazil's World Cup team. Clearly, the commercial has used its powers to curse Ronaldinho while rewarding those who have neglected him (his national team).

6. One of the celebrity cameos we see is Kobe "No surname necessary" Bryant doing his own version of the Ronaldinho stepover celebration. Kobe just won his fifth ring by beating the archrival Celtics--he's on top of the world right now. So, obviously, Kobe is the exception that proves the rule. Moving on...

7. Cristiano Ronaldo features last in the ad, and I gotta admit, his team has played well (it helps to have someone like North Korea to use as a punching bag). But surely the Curse has something in store for this Mediterranean metrosexual--besides, if it doesn't, I'm sure I can use my heightened powers of rationalization to explain why Ronaldo's success is not evidence against the existence of the Curse.

8. Homer Simpson. Well, the Simpsons have been going downhill for a while, so unless the Curse is able to have some sort of causal effect on events that occurred earlier in time, we'll just have to view Homer's appearance as a wash.

So, you decide: is this curse just a series of unfortunate coincidences* or something rivaling 4 8 15 16 23 42? Only time will tell...

Update: Apparently I'm not the only person to have this idea. For what it's worth, I didn't bite anyone's shit, I came up with this on my own.

*ELAINE: Well, I mean, he was in the apartment, and then it's gon and it's in your apartment.

RAVA: Maybe you think we're in cahoots.

ELAINE: No, no.. but it is quite a coincidence.

RAVA: Yes, that's all, a coincidence!

ELAINE: A big coincidence.

RAVA: Not a big coincidence. A coincidence!

ELAINE: No, that's a big coincidence.

RAVA: That's what a coincidence is! There are no small coincidences and big coincidences!

Going on the Record...

2010-06-16T23:25:00.000-07:00

...and saying that I will be very impressed with the Celtics and Doc Rivers if the C's manage to win Game 7 on the road without Kendrick Perkins (whose injury will prevent him from playing). Perkins has been a crucial component to the Celtics' success, and his loss causes huge problems for Doc. Rivers might end up relying on 'Sheed, who has been, uh, far from reliable.

The Lakers are -7 and I'm guessing (I use the word "guess" cuz I don't pretend to be an expert, a sports bettor, or an expert sports bettor) they handily cover.

More World Cup Observations

2010-06-13T13:16:00.001-07:00

1. If I were Australian, I'd be embarrassed by my national team's showing today against Germany. The Socceroos spent a large part of the first half putting their hands in the air, and played the second half like they just didn't care. If you missed the match, it went mostly like this: Australia plays an offside trap, a German forward or midfielder continually beats the trap with a perfectly-timed run, the Aussies whine and scream in vain for an offside call, and the Germans take direct aim at the net.

Now look, I'm not saying that Australia ever had a chance in this game. Germany played as well as any team we've seen so far, and the Aussies looked slow and less skilled. Hats off to Germany for their pace and their intricate runs. For Australia, there's no shame in losing to a more talented team that's on its game, but the Socceroos went down without a fight (unless screaming at the linesman counts as a fight) and embarrassed its citizenry in the process.

2. Quick--name the first European nation to win a game in the 2010 World Cup. (Answer below.)

3. Adidas needs to fire its marketing department. How hard is it to sell soccer cleats? Hire six famous and skilled soccer players, give them an adidas ball to play with and adidas cleats to wear while playing, encourage them to play creatively, and film them for 5 hours. Nike runs laps around adidas and has been doing so for years. No excuses, adidas--you've been synonymous with soccer for decades. Fix your shit.

4. I've been impressed with the refereeing at this tournament. The linesmen have done a great job calling offsides, and the center refs have been keeping the players under control and playing within the rules of the game. My favorite calls so far were the two yellow cards given to the Germany side for simulation (a/k/a diving). I used to ref and I can tell you that this is one of the hardest calls to make. Even if you know that no foul occurred, it's much harder to be sure that the player fell on purpose in an attempt to draw a whistle. Players loose their footing for all sorts of reasons (losing their balance attempting to turn quickly, getting feet tangled up, etc)...it's very difficult to attribute the fall to a flop (it helped me when the player flailed his limbs as he was tumbling to the turf). Plus, the penalty for diving is fairly harsh, though deservedly so, so a ref really wants to be sure of the call before doling out a yellow card.

5. Answer to #2: Slovenia!

6. On an unrelated note, where in the hell is Slovenia?

Quick Thoughts about the U.S.-England Match

2010-06-12T15:48:00.000-07:00

1. How come England had so many odd-man rushes in the second half? I realize that they started playing with three forwards, but that doesn't explain why the U.S. had so much trouble getting men back to defend. Was England faster, fitter, or both?

2. Everyone watching realized that Tim Howard had to make a few clutch saves to keep the U.S. level--what is less clear is how these chances arose. I didn't see anything other than the same telecast y'all saw, but for my money it seemed like there were communication problems in the back. This is quite disconcerting when you consider that the U.S. seemed to rely heavily on the offside trap. Now, maybe the U.S. won't employ this tactic against its next two opponents--the trap is typically used by the inferior team as a way to neutralize the more skilled team's talent, and the U.S. is on paper more talented than Slovenia or Algeria--but if Bradley sticks with it, we could find ourselves in a familiar spot--holding our breath as Howard has to bail us out. Hopefully, the next striker finishes as poorly as Heskey did today, but "we can't take that chance!"

3. Landon Donovan played a tremendous game today. He delivered great balls off of set pieces (corner kicks and free kicks were the only consistent way for America to threaten the English defense), got back on defense, and played with more poise than his teammates. While Onyewu was blasting the ball away instead of playing it back to Howard ("when in doubt, kick it out" stopped being a viable strategy after sophomore year in high school), Donovan played with aplomb and pace.

4. What's the deal with ESPN having an English play-by-play guy? I know he's distinguished and respected, but can't we get an American voice for the U.S. games? Am I the only one who misses Jack Edwards?

(The Gus Johnson of soccer features prominently in this video.)

5. If Rooney keeps performing like he played today, he won't be hugging the queen anytime soon. (I don't even need a hyperlink...by now y'all have seen the ad.) "But the U.S. locked him down!" Yeah, so what--if America can take him out of the game, what do you think Italy's gonna do?

6. I'm not looking forward to waking up at the crack of dawn to watch the next game, haha.

Personal Jurisdiction

2010-06-10T14:54:00.000-07:00

("Personal Jurisdiction" is part 2 of an ongoing attempt to bore y'all to tears.)

Before we dive into this, let me say one thing: although it may be counter-intuitive, a state court in, say, Georgia can apply Alabama's, Florida's, or any other state's law to a claim. This is a fairly common stumbling block for people trying to get a handle on personal jurisdiction--just trust me when I tell you that State 1 can hear a case between two parties who live in State 2 (or between two parties who live in State 1) and apply State 2's law to the claim.

One other thing: we're only worried about state courts here, because federal courts have a lower hurdle to clear with respect to personal jurisdiction.

Okay, so, the court you're trying to appear in front of has the right to hear the type of claim that you're presenting. (In other words, it has proper "subject-matter jurisdiction" over the claim.) Congratulations! However, proper SMJ is necessary but not sufficient. The court must also have personal jurisdiction (also known as "territorial jurisdiction") over the parties.

Personal jurisdiction deals with the right of a court to adjudicate the rights of a person (or thing, if the dispute is, say, over a piece of property but let's not worry about that). This is a common-sense concept: a state court in Maine shouldn't have any power to enforce a judgment over an Oregonian in a dispute between two Oregonians that concerns a car crash that occurred in Portland (unless we're talking about Portland, ME...). Yet, if the only hurdle to proper jurisdiction were subject-matter jurisdiction, the Maine court would have this authority (because the Maine state court can hear this type of case). That's why we need another protection, and that comes in the form of personal jurisdiction.

Now, our Maine court (or any other, obviously--we'll stick with Maine as the example) must have proper personal jurisdiction over both the plaintiff and the defendant, but since personal jurisdiction is waivable, the plaintiff is deemed to have waived any potential objection to the court's exercise of personal jurisdiction over him when he files the suit in the Maine court.

The far more important question is this: when does the Maine court have personal jurisdiction over the defendant?

(1) The defendant can waive his objection to personal jurisdiction, typically by making a "general appearance" in court. If the defendant makes a general appearance, there goes his right to dispute the personal jurisdiction issue. So, a savvy defendant will make a "special appearance" in court, which basically tells the court, "look, I don't think you have any rights over me (ie, 'I don't think you have any personal jurisdiction over me') but in order to persuade you of this, I have to be here to explain my side. So, look, I'm only here for purposes of disputing your potential personal jurisdiction over me. I'm not waiving the defense."

You waive your objection to personal jurisdiction when you don't mind litigating in Maine (maybe you got a great deal at a bed-and-breakfast in Falmouth). Unfortunately, winning on the personal jurisdiction issue doesn't let you totally off the hook--the plaintiff will just re-file, this time in Oregon. That's why defendants will sometimes waive their objections.

(2) If the defendant gets served with a summons in the state in which the lawsuit was brought (here, Maine), the ME court has personal jurisdiction. That's kind've a harsh rule but it's been around for a while and it looks like it's here to stay for the foreseeable future.

3. The last way for a court to have proper personal jurisdiction is the most confusing. Long story short: the defendant must have minimum contacts with the forum state (here, Maine), the exercise of personal jurisdiction over the defendant must be reasonable, and the Maine statute must authorize the exercise of personal jurisdiction (this is rarely a problem because many states give their courts as much reach as possible).

No one really knows exactly what "minimum contacts" means, but if the defendant has purposefully contacts with the state of Maine, Maine probably has personal jurisdiction. So, clearly the Maine court has no personal jurisdiction over the Oregonian defendant in our car crash example, but if the defendant were, say, a corporation from Oregon who advertises and sells its products in Maine and purposefully avails itself of the benefits of being present in Maine, then that Maine court will have personal jurisdiction.

I know I just said a lot...maybe this analogy will help:

Let's say that you just moved out of the house and found a full-time job, and to celebrate you got your first tattoo (to your mom's noticeable chagrin). When you return home for Thanksgiving, she scolds you for getting the tattoo and threatens to ground you. Here, your mom has no personal jurisdiction over you. She can't enforce a punishment against you because you no longer live under her roof or take money from her. You have "insufficient contacts" with her. Now, if your younger sister (who's still in undergrad) had gotten that same tattoo, your mom would be able to enforce a punishment over her by taking away her tuition money or kicking her out of the house or whatever.

Subject-Matter Jurisdiction

2010-06-09T12:18:00.000-07:00

**We interrupt this "sports and poker" blog to bring you an important message about civil procedure.**

I just hit you with my car, and now you want to sue me. You cannot choose to sue me in whichever court you please, though--that would give you unfair strategic advantages and would thus violate my constitutional right to due process. You still get some flexibility, though. So, how do we decide whether a court is appropriate for your litigation? Well, in order for a specific court to be the proper place for your claim, that court must have both subject-matter jurisdiction and personal jurisdiction. (There are other requirements as well, but they are less important so we can save them for a later date.)

Subject-Matter Jurisdiction:

Subject-Matter Jurisdiction is simply the right of a court to hear the type of case that you're presenting. If you're trying to sue me in a state court, you've got nothing to worry about. Most state courts are courts of "general jurisdiction"--they can hear claims that have to do only with state law (like torts) and they can typically hear claims that concern federal law. (Again, there are some small exceptions but they're small enough that we needn't worry about them.)

If you're trying to sue me in federal court (perhaps you think that a federal court is more likely to get you a favorable outcome), that's going to be a more difficult challenge for you. Federal courts are courts of limited jurisdiction--that means they need jurisdiction conferred on them by both the Constitution and by Congress. (The Constitution is pretty liberal with its grants of federal subject-matter jurisdiction, so we're really only worried about statutory authorization.) There are three basic ways for you to get your claim into federal court: (1) if the cause of action concerns a "federal question" (basically, if federal law is implicated in either the original claim or a defense to the claim); (2) if there is diversity jurisdiction, or (3) if supplemental jurisdiction exists.

Diversity Jurisdiction is very simple to explain: if you're black/Hispanic/Asian and I'm white, the federal courts are more interested in our litigation--cuz nothing say "compelling drama" like an interracial dispute--so they get to hear the claim.

Naw, just kidding...by "diversity" we mean "diversity of residence:" if you're domiciled in California and I'm domiciled in Texas, it putatively wouldn't be fair to you if you were forced to litigate in TX (and it wouldn't be fair to me if I had to defend myself in front of a hippie jury in California). So, the U.S. constitution lets us go to a theoretically more impartial location, a federal court. This rule made more sense in the 19th century, when certain states did not get along well with others--now it seems like a bit of an anachronism. Plus, we don't wanna clog up the federal courts with insignificant personal injury claims--that's the job of drug offenses! So, the plaintiff has to be suing for at least $75,000. (In legal terms, we need an "amount in controversy" of at least $75k.)

[Aside: it gets more complicated when you have co-plaintiffs and co-defendants--do we need complete diversity or will partial diversity suffice? What if we're suing a corporation instead--where is the corporation domiciled? Etc.]

[Second Aside: being in a federal court doesn't mean that federal law applies...that'd be way too easy, haha. For example, if you're suing me for driving negligently, there's no federal law on negligence, so a federal court (who again is allowed to hear this case because there is diversity jurisdiction) would still be applying state law. But TX state law or CA state law?! Trust me, you don't want me to get into that.]

Supplemental jurisdiction is more confusing, so let me just give you the Chicago-Kent School of Law version: supplemental jurisdiction allows a federal court to decide a claim--even when the federal court has no other basis for jurisdiction over the claim--when the claim is closely linked to another claim that the same federal court does have independent jurisdiction over. Supplemental jurisdiction exists because it (theoretically) facilitates efficiency in the judicial system and conserves resources.

So, if you and I are both from, say, Illinois and I hit you with my car, you typically can't get yourself into federal court. There's no federal question implicated here (negligence is state law) and there's no diversity of citizenship. BUT if you somehow had both your negligence claim and a related federal question claim against me, the negligence claim could "piggyback" its way into federal court.

Supplemental jurisdiction is muddled in many ways, AND it's discretionary--the federal court can choose to say, "Nah, we don't want this case" and we'd have to go back to state court. (A federal court might pass on the case if, for instance, it thinks the jury will get confused by the two claims.) So, we're not gonna get into it further--at least you know it exists.

I think this post is already too long, so we'll leave personal jurisdiction for the next time.

Preventing a Downswing

2010-06-08T22:30:00.000-07:00

I've played poorly the last few times on Stars, and it's almost 100% attributable to the fact that I've not been thinking through the hands enough. Basically, the cycle starts like this: you have a losing day despite playing well (you get unlucky or run KK into AA or whatever), so the next time out you chase losses a bit by adding more tables than you normally play. This causes you to have less time to think, so you make the occasional fundamental error, which means more losing, which means more tables (or maybe longer sessions, which also leads to more mistakes), and so it goes.

If you catch this problem early enough, it's not a huge deal--as the cliche goes, "poker is measured in years, not days." A few bad days, or even a bad week, is just a bump in the road when you've been playing as long as I have. That said, it's obviously important to right the ship as quickly as you can.

What follows probably the best example of this downward spiral--I threw this hand in here (with a bit of explanation) because it's a mistake that many players will make and I want you to avoid this spot.

Poker Stars $2/$4 No Limit Hold'em - 9 players

SB: $283.90
BB: $400.00
UTG: $400.00
UTG+1: $400.00
UTG+2: $410.75
MP1: $488.00
MP2 (Tight-aggressive regular): $449.00
Hero (CO): $655.50
BTN: $1385.25

Pre Flop: ($6.00) Hero is CO with 9 9
4 folds, MP2 raises to $12, Hero raises to $36, 3 folds, MP2 calls $24

This is standard play here with the 99. You can argue for a smooth call or even a fold, but you're probably wrong, haha. I'm not gonna get into it here because it'll take forever to hash out the various alternatives and that's not the point of this post.

Flop: ($78.00) 4 5 4 (2 players)
MP2 checks, Hero checks

This is the ideal flop for us. When MP2 called our reraise out of position, we safely assign him a range of a big ace or a medium pocket pair. So, unless he has 55 (unlikely) or 44 (exceedingly unlikely), we're winning. I suppose he could have TT but we may be able to persuade MP2 to fold TT if we bet hard enough.

If MP2 has overcards, he probably will be done with the hand if we bet here. If he has a medium pocket pair, he's probably not going to fold to a bet here because he's still skeptical that we have him beat. (For what it's worth, we probably do have him beat.) I like to say that the opponent "needs convincing" that we have something like AA or KK, and it usually takes more than a flop bet to meet the burden of persuasion. That's a good thing, though--what typically happens is that we bet the flop, he calls (skeptically), we bet the turn, and--assuming the turn didn't help him--he folds (reluctantly). We end up winning more money than we would have had he simply folded on the flop.

Our hand is vulnerable to lots of overcards, so we probably would be content with a fold from our opponent. This isn't always the case, of course--if we had AA we'd want our opponent to stick around.

So, for all these reasons, we should certainly be betting this flop. We'll fold out overcards and we'll continue our story that we have a huge pocket pair. Clearly, checking here (as we did) is a mistake.

For what it's worth, I probably checked this flop here because I was feeling a bit exploitable/vulnerable. When you're losing, you realize just how easy it is for someone to bully you out of a pot. Rarely do I get it all-in against a regular without a very strong hand, so it'd be quite easy for MP2 to check-raise me and get me to fold. Now, of course, MP2 very rarely will make this play because he's more worried about stacking fish than getting into "regwarz" (fights with other regulars) and because if I have something like KK or AA he just threw away $400. It's very unhealthy for your poker bankroll if you're playing like a "catastrophist" (always assuming the worst), because it turns you tentative at very inopportune times.

Turn: ($78.00) A (2 players)
MP2 checks, Hero bets $52, MP2 asks for time, deliberates, and calls $52

I don't dislike this bet. Our opponent probably has us on a big ace or a pocket pair. When we checked the flop, he probably put us on a big ace because most pocket pairs would bet that flop. So, betting the ace (as a bluff, obviously--we don't want MP2 to call us here) continues our story that we have the opponent beat.

In this specific hand, MP2 "time-banked" before calling...that's often a sign of indecision. So, good try--we bet the turn hoping he'd fold, but he called. Oh, well--time to cut our losses and move on, right?

River: ($182.00) 2 (2 players)
MP2 checks, Hero bets $116, MP2 calls $116

I hate this river bet, and here's why: we tried on the turn to convince the regular that we had him beat. We almost persuaded him (he time-banked, after all), but we didn't convince him. So, after the river (the most harmless of cards), we try again to convince him? What an egregious mistake. Our chance to convince him came and went--firing on this river is akin to lighting money on fire.

No regular worth his salt will call the turn and then fold the river in a spot like this where the river changed nothing, because you have to play consistently if you want to win. This is actually a common mistake that losing regulars make too often--they call the turn to see what the opponent will do on the river...this is a losing play because you're merely putting off the decision or, alternatively, you're spending too much money on purchasing additional information (the additional information here is how the hero acts on the river).

**Note: this hand is not a perfect example because the opponent himself had an unbeatable ace, so he wasn't really deliberating so much as trying to induce a bluff from us on the river. It doesn't matter whether he had AK or JJ, though: we still should not ever be betting this river on a bluff. Once he called the turn we pretty much know he's going to be calling the river.

Final Pot: $414.00
MP2 shows K A (two pair, Aces and Fours)
Hero shows 9 9 (two pair, Nines and Fours)
MP2 wins $411.00
(Rake: $3.00)

Okay, so that hand was a disaster, but at least we learned from it.

A Hand I'm a Little Too Proud Of

2010-06-03T22:48:00.000-07:00

Through his poker literature, David Sklansky taught me (and my coworkers) that the point of poker is to win money, not to win pots. With that in mind, let's examine a recent hand played on Stars. (By the way: I used a converter to change the raw hand history into something more legible. Among other changes, a player's position is used in lieu of that person's screen name.)

This first hand is merely background information:

Poker Stars $3/$6 No Limit Hold'em - 9 players

UTG+1: $600.00
Fish: $213.00
MP1: $706.20
MP2: $548.30
CompetentRegular: $1161.00
Hero (BTN): $642.30
SB: $679.00
BB: $600.00
UTG: $609.00

Pre Flop: ($9.00) Hero is BTN with A 9
2 folds, Fish calls $6, 2 folds, CompetentRegular raises to $18, 3 folds, UTG+2 calls $12

Flop: ($45.00) 6 K 6 (2 players)
Fish checks, CompetentRegular checks

Turn: ($45.00) 7 (2 players)
Fish checks, CompetentRegular checks

River: ($45.00) 2 (2 players)
Fish checks, CompetentRegular checks

Final Pot: $45.00
Fish shows 4 3 (a pair of Sixes)
CompetentRegular shows 8 Q (a pair of Sixes - King+Queen kicker)
CompetentRegular wins $42.75
(Rake: $2.25)

Notice a few things here: Fish open-limped with a very marginal hand, and CompetentRegular ("C.R.") made an isolation raise in position with a similarly marginal hand. Fish put up very little resistance throughout the hand, even after C.R. seemed to have given up on winning the pot. From this hand and other bits of information, we can glean that Fish is both loose and passive. This read is far from bulletproof, but in the world of online poker--where you'll see a player for 15 minutes, then never see him again--you have no choice but to extrapolate reads from tiny bits of information.

Now, on to the main hand (if it's not clear, "Fish" and "C.R." from Hand 1 are the same players as "Fish" and "C.R." in Hand 2)...

Poker Stars $3/$6 No Limit Hold'em - 9 players

MP1: $600.00
Fish: $471.70
CO: $667.20
BTN: $716.30
CompetentRegular (C.R.): $1158.75
Hero (BB): $630.30
UTG: $541.85
UTG+1: $600.00
UTG+2: $621.00

Pre Flop: ($9.00) Hero is BB with J J
4 folds, Fish calls $6, 2 folds, C.R. raises to $18, Hero calls $12, Fish calls $12

This is unorthodox preflop play on Hero's part. With JJ, Hero is certainly beating the range of his two opponents' holdings, so you'd think that a preflop reraise would be in order. A re-raise will almost certainly take down the pot, so Hero would win Fish's $6 + C.R.'s $18 + Hero's own big blind of $6, for a total of $30...this is obviously not a horrendous result, but keep in mind that we want to maximize the amount of money we can win. (If you can't tell by now, "we" are in the role of Hero.) Merely winning the pot is not sufficient.

So, Hero instead decides to smooth-call C.R.'s raise. There's one overriding reason for merely calling--Hero wants to keep Fish in the hand.* Hero is not scared of C.R., because Hero has seen C.R. raise with a wide range of hands in spots like this one. Plus, C.R. is a winning regular but he won't get too cute in spots like this one. In other words, if C.R. flops a monster, Hero will pick up on that quickly and minimize the money he loses. If everything works out as planned, Hero will outflop C.R. and Fish and will be able to get more money out of his JJ than he would were he merely to reraise and take down the pot preflop.

Flop: ($54.00) 5 6 7 (3 players)
C.R. checks, Hero bets $30, Fish calls $30, C.R. folds

Hero should like this flop, for a few reasons: most obviously, Hero still has an overpair to the board and is likely beating both of these players. Less obviously but no less importantly, it's quite likely that Fish (who has a history of playing raggedy cards) has caught a piece of this flop--either with something like middle pair or a straight draw. The only bad part about this flop is that it has possibly hit C.R., but if C.R. flopped a strong hand he'd probably bet out and Hero could then proceed with caution.

Once C.R. checks, Hero feels great about his hand. He knows that Fish is passive and likely won't bet a marginal hand like middle pair, so Hero takes the lead. This is somewhat risky because the general idea is that the first person to act after a bet in a multiway pot usually has to have a fairly strong hand to call (because this player has to worry about the people still to act behind him in addition to the bettor), but it's still the best play because we want to extract value from Fish and also get C.R. out of there as soon as we can.

Happily for us, this is just the result we get. We accomplished our two main goals: have Fish put more money into the pot and get C.R. out of the hand before he catches his Ace or his gutshot or whatever. Now that it's just us and a loose, passive opponent, it becomes a very easy situation for us to play.

Turn: ($114.00) 7 (2 players)
Hero bets $42, Fish calls $42

At first glance, Hero probably dislikes this card because Fish can easily be holding a 7. Upon further consideration, however, there are lots of cards that we'll hate, for various reasons (lots of low cards hit Fish's potential draws, and lots of overcards either hit Fish, scare us, and/or freeze Fish from putting in any more money). Besides, the 7 counterfeits any small two pair that Fish could potentially hit AND from Fish's standpoint, he's thinking, "well, if I felt good enough about my hand to call on the flop, the turn changes nothing. I didn't have him on a 7 on the flop or I'd have folded, so why should I be scared of another 7?"**

River: ($198.00) 3 (2 players)
Hero checks, Fish checks

I personally think Hero should be betting this river. Against a more aggressive fish, this is a great spot to check and then snap-call any bet, because we want to give the player a chance to bluff the river with his missed draw and we (very) generally don't like to bet when a raise will "make you throw up." This particular fish, however, will likely not bluff because he's a passive player, and the 3 is not a very scary card.

Final Pot: $198.00
Fish mucks J 5
Hero shows J J (two pair, Jacks and Sevens)
Hero wins $195.00
(Rake: $3.00)

The Takeaway:

1. Even when you're multitabling, it's important to pay attention to the action on all the tables whenever possible, especially when the hand involves an unknown player. If Hero had not noticed the first hand, he would not realize that C.R. was raising so lightly. Thus, Hero would probably have re-raised with JJ and would have missed out on significant value as a result.

2. Poker is often about finessing the fish--you want to isolate him whenever possible, but this is not always easy to do. As we saw, Hero couldn't isolate Fish preflop because there was no amount that Hero could re-raise to that would result in both (1) Fish calling and (2) C.R. folding. So, Hero had to bide his time and wait for a better spot (here, on the flop) to isolate.

3. Playing correct poker means worrying about winning money (as opposed to worrying about taking down pots). Sometimes this means that you have to sacrifice a sure win for a shot at a bigger payday. Hero was 98% likely to take down the pot preflop if he had re-raised, but it was a pot barely worth winning, so he decided to take a, say, 70% chance at winning a healthy pot. That's the mathematically correct decision, but sometimes it's hard to do when you're, say, down a few buy-ins and just need to take down a pot to steady the ship.

3a. "Better to win a small pot than to lose a big one." This poker cliche, while obviously true in its smallest sense, is misleading and not proper strategy.

*Were this hand to take place in a casino, Hero (being a crafty veteran) would undoubtedly steal a glance at Fish before deciding how to proceed. If Fish has already uncapped his cards and is merely waiting to fold, Hero would choose to re-raise instead of smooth-call, because Hero would know that Fish is out either way and once Hero knows this the proper play is to put in the re-raise in position against the competent regular. Inversely, if Fish is in the process of counting out the chips to call the bet, Hero can smooth-call with confidence that Fish will be coming along for the ride. The quick, peripheral glance to your left when the action is on you is probably the most powerful tool you have for figuring out your opponents' likely actions.

**Maybe I'm giving Fish too much credit with his thought process here, but it's likely he's thinking something along these lines...though if you asked him to articulate his thought process, he probably would struggle.

Professional Responsibility

2010-05-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

I've got my first final on Thursday, and it covers my Professional Responsibility class. It shouldn't be too arduous to study for it, cuz it's only a two-credit course. As the joke goes...

Layperson: "Hey *UT Law Student*, I hear you're required to take a professional responsibility course in order to graduate."

UT Law Student: "Yeah, we hafta take 86 credits in total, two of which must cover ethics and a lawyer's responsibilities to his client."

Layperson: "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Anyways, in reviewing for the test, I remembered an anecdote (or perhaps merely an old joke) that our professor told us in the process of explaining both the obligations a lawyer owes his client and limitations on these obligations: "An attorney was defending a man on trial for manslaughter. The case ended up going to trial, and the man was found guilty on all charges. After the foreman finished reading the verdict, the man turned to his lawyer and said, 'well, what do we do now?' The lawyer replied, 'well, now you go to jail and I go home to my family.'"

Most everyone in the class laughed. I have no larger point to make, but I wonder how many of us would have laughed had we been told that joke a few months before we had started our 1L years.

A Surprising Line

2010-05-01T16:11:00.000-07:00

According to the scores application on my phone, Vegas had the Thunder as a one point favorite in the Zombie Sonics' Game 6 matchup versus the Lake Show. Now, I'm well aware that Kobe is past his prime and has an arthritic finger. I'm also aware that Durantula is unguardable, that Artest is overrated, that Fisher couldn't start for most teams, and that Westbrook is faster than any player this side of Derrick. Plus, the rolling Thunder were playing at home.

All that said, does it surprise anyone else that OKC was favored? You, the guy who likes OKC, have to worry about Phil Jackson and Kobe Bryant in an elimination game, and yet someone's making you give up a point? Weird. I wonder what the Lakers think about this line?

(The Lakers ended up winning by 1 point, thanks to Gasol's tip-in. I guess the linemakers know what they're doing--big surprise.)

Strikeouts

2010-04-29T21:39:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I write this knowing nothing about sabermetrics or the like. This is my attempt to derive an understanding of a topic...it'll certainly fall short, but at least it'll get me thinking.

My roommate (Quigs) and I were talking yesterday about the various ramifications of the recent Ryan Howard contract extension. (For those of you who don't follow baseball....start following baseball.) Quigs, a big Brewers fan, was interested in comparing Howard's stats to his Milwaukee counterpart, Prince Fielder. He put the two side-by-side and we noticed that very little separated the two apart from age (Fielder is significantly younger) and the number of times each struck out (Howard had far more K's than Fielder).

Quigs--a guy who knows his sports--pointed out the discrepancy, gave the edge to Fielder, and moved on, but I didn't. Rather, I asked him to explain why the difference in strikeouts, by itself, gives Fielder an edge. (In his defense, I had just asked Quigs to defend a position that he hadn't expressly advocated...this would be unfair--or good strategy, I guess--if I were trying to "win" an argument, but here I was just trying to get an academic treatment going. In other words, he and I are not at odds, except to the extent that he's playing devil's advocate to further the discussion.) I don't remember exactly how Quigs made his points, so at this point I'm going to turn this history into historical fiction. Let's pretend, quite reasonably, that he started with this:

1. "Strikeouts are an out. Outs are bad. All other things equal (namely, at-bats), the more outs you make, the worse a batter you are." Well, yes, but this can be attacked on multiple grounds. Most pressingly, we have already accounted for outs made when we compared their batting averages and similar statistics. If Fielder and Howard each get a hit one out of three times, who cares how they got out the other two times? Click on--or really just mouse over--the hyperlink to cheat.> This leads us to point number two.

2. "Not all outs are equal." No argument there. The strikeout doesn't put the ball in play, whereas flyballs, groundouts, etc. will force the defense to make a play. This will lead to the occasional error. Put differently, if Player A strikes out 100 times, he'll reach first base maybe twice (on the account of a dropped third strike). If Player B hits 100 balls right at fielders, he'll reach base maybe 5 or so times (my best guess).

But wait, there's more! Groundouts and flyouts can advance a runner, while a strikeout adds nothing to this. (Yes, a runner can advance on a strikeout if the ball passes the catcher, but unless the swing-and-miss led to the catcher misplaying the ball, the fact that you struck out did not cause the runner to advance.) This is true, but you have to wonder how often Fielder and Howard move up runners. If I'm managing either of these sluggers, I'm not telling them, "Hey, there's a runner on second with no outs...try to chop a grounder to the first baseman." I'm telling them, "find a pitch you like and drive it." In this case, it helps that both Fielder and Howard are leftys and, as such, will end up advancing runners fortuitously.** I've gotta tip my hat to Quigs on this one...it seems like the added benefit of advancing the runners is significant.

(Random Shawon Dunston pic to break up the wall of text.)

My brother also took up the "Strikeouts are worse than other outs" argument, and he floated a few ideas that were off the beaten path but worth considering:

3. "Batters who strike out frequently are less likely to be intentionally walked." Well, that may or may not be true, but let's assume it is true. (It's beyond the scope of this post to support this statement, and it sounds reasonable.) Do you even want your best hitter to be walked intentionally in a big situation (I'm thinking 2nd and 3rd with one out)? Unfortunately, my lack of knowledge limits us here--I don't know whether it's more desirable to have your best hitter batting with 2nd and 3rd or to have (presumably) your second-best hitter batting with the bases loaded. In fact, I suggested to my brother that it might be a detriment to have your best hitter strike out less cuz that means he's more likely to be passed intentionally in these situations, and he responded with, "So, your argument is basically that Howard is better than Fielder (all other things equal) cuz the other team would rather face Howard than Fielder? That doesn't make a lick of sense." He's got a point.

4. "Strikeouts are psychological rally-killers." Interesting idea. I guess he's right to some extent--nothing takes the air out of a stadium like a strikeout with the bases loaded. Well, except for a double play with the bases loaded, which I suppose is more likely to occur when the batter who strikes out less is at the plate (assuming the two batters of equal batting averages, etc). The GIDP argument is one of the few in support of the strikeout, and I'm not sure how much water it holds.

5. "Strikeouts make you seem human." I like this point better. Being prone to striking out is such a conspicuous chink in the armor that it makes the hitter seem vulnerable. I can picture a fan saying something like this: "Wait, you mean he hits .320, hits for power, and he never strikes out? Jeez, does he have any weakness whatsoever?!" I can also picture that fan saying about a different player: "Yeah, he hits .320 and he hits for power, but at least he strikes out a lot." Now, it obviously makes no difference what the fans think of an opponent, but maybe pitchers are subject to similar fallacious reasoning and that their pitching suffers as a result.

Interesting stuff.

**I've said it before, but I'll say it again (to no one in particular): "Fortuitous" means "happening by chance; accidental." It does not mean "fortunately lucky." That's why we have the word, "serendipitous." If you happen to run into your friend at the mall, that is fortuitous. If you accidentally run your car into your friend's car at that same mall, that is also fortuitous.

LeBron James is the new Willis Reed

2010-04-29T21:26:00.000-07:00

SportsCenter reports that the elbow "injury" that LBJ suffered during Game 5 against the Bulls won't cause the Akron Hammer to miss any time. Oh, really? You mean the tremendous pain that forced 'Bron to shoot a meaningless free throw (up by 4 with 6 seconds left) with his left hand after making the important free throw with his right hand isn't serious enough to force him to miss a playoff game? Imagine that.

Ryan Howard deal

2010-04-26T22:39:00.001-07:00

Cubs fans gotta love the Howard deal...it's gonna indirectly get Fielder out of the Central and force St. Louis to overpay Pujols.

The Joys of a Misclick

2009-09-25T00:03:00.000-07:00

So, most successful online poker players play multiple tables at the same time. This maximizes the number of hands they play, thus maximizing their profits. It's normal for a player to play 10, 14, or even 24 tables at once. (I fluctuate between 16 and 20 myself.) The online poker rooms have excellent software for so called multi-tablers where the tables will come to the forefront (there's surely a technical term for this, but it escapes me) one at a time, but even the best of us will occasionally misclick (the fold, call, and raise buttons are close together) in the flurry of negotiating our 20 or so tables. This is aggravating, of course, because you can accidentally fold AA or raise with rags. I'm pretty good about not misclicking, but I have definitely folded a few big hands due to the dreaded misclick and I once made a raise to $42 or something preflop with complete garbage (and lost the hand, of course). Goodbye, nice dinner!

Anyways, the following hand demonstrates how an opponent's serendipitous misclick can pay off big for you. There's little strategy involved here, so just sit back and enjoy the ride.

To set the scene, I'm at a table with 6 other "regulars"--guys who play tons of hands and likely make a living from online poker--and 1 fish. This is less than ideal, but sometimes when games are slow you have to make due. At the least, it's better than quitting and doing hw, haha. Even though there's only one guy here who's undeniably worse than I am--all of us Regulars are pretty much the same in terms of talent--it's still a good spot for me because I have position on the one fish. I act immediately after him on almost every hand, so I can wait for him to enter a hand, then reraise to isolate the fish from the sharks who, like me, smell blood and are circling. Moreover, this guy was the best type of fish--he was aggressive and would put lots of money in with marginal hands.

Oh, I obviously multiplied the actual dollar amounts by a factor to keep camouflaged how little/much I actually play for. Plus, with all this money out there, it ramps up the drama! The scale is the same, though, and that's all that matters.

Seat 1: Regular1 ($20,000 in chips)
Seat 2: Fish ($21,760 in chips)
Seat 3: Billy ($20,546.70 in chips)
Seat 4: Regular2 ($20,550 in chips)
Seat 6: Regular3 ($27592 in chips)
Seat 7: Regular4 ($27,591 in chips)
Seat 8: Regular5 ($29,470 in chips)
Seat 9: Regular6 ($23297 in chips)
Regular5: posts small blind $100
Regular6: posts big blind $200
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Billy [Ah As]
Regular1: folds
Fish: raises $800 to $1000

What a dream scenario: Fish has a hand he likes and we have the best hand in the game. Let's raise small to get everyone else out of the hand so I can go one-on-one with Fish.

Billy: raises $1000 to $2000
Regular2: folds
Regular3: raises $1000 to $3000

Okay, this play makes no sense. It's a minraise (raising the absolute minimum allowed) by a competent player. The minraise here would never be performed by someone competent, so this guy is either (1) way drunk or (2) the victim of a misclick. Either way, we're ecstatic.

Regular4: folds
Regular5: folds
Regular6: folds
Fish: calls $2000

Sweet, Fish is sticking around. I was a bit concerned that my raise and Regular3's reraise would scare him away, but since the raises (both of 'em) were small, he's gonna stick around. If he put $2k in, he'll probably put more in, so let's re-raise to get Regular3 out of the way and to get Fish to put in more money preflop. The more money he puts in to see a flop, the more committed he is to putting the rest in if he catches a piece of the flop. We don't wanna raise too big, though, lest we scare him away.

Billy: raises $7400 to $10400
Regular3: folds
Regular3 said, "fn misklick"

Misclick confirmed. Thanks for the extra $3k, Regular3.

Fish: calls $7400

Beautiful. Fish has about half of his stack invested--he's gonna have a hard time folding.

*** FLOP *** [Td Ks 9s]
Fish: bets $11,360 and is all-in

Yup, here he goes. This isn't a great board for AA, but there is no way we ever fold to such a reckless, loose player with so much money already invested.

Billy: calls $10,147 and is all-in
Uncalled bet ($1213) returned to Fish (Since Fish has us covered, he gets a slight refund on his bet.)
*** TURN *** [Td Ks 9s] [Qs]
*** RIVER *** [Td Ks 9s Qs] [6d]
*** SHOW DOWN ***
Fish: shows [9h 8h] (a pair of Nines)
Billy: shows [Ah As] (a pair of Aces)
Billy collected $44,293 from pot
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $44,296 | Rake $3
Board [Td Ks 9s Qs 6d]
Seat 2: Fish showed [9h 8h] and lost with a pair of Nines
Seat 3: Billy showed [Ah As] and won ($44,293) with a pair of Aces

Now, just how clutch was that misclick? Well, in addition to the $3k of dead money, it gave us a chance to put in another preflop raise. If Regular3 had folded, like he intended, Fish would have just called our bet and he'd have most of his stack left. On that flop, he'd be more cautious with so little money in the pot and so much money still in his stack. He'd probably check the flop (instead of shoving all in) and maybe call a flop bet from us; however, he'd probably fold after the turn, given our showing of strength throughout the hand and his relatively scant holdings (unless his hand improved, in which case we'd be losing). So, we'd miss out on about $15k in value by having him fold. That misclick made us $18k richer (Fish's $15k + Regular3's $3k).

So, what exactly is Conflicts of Law?

2009-09-16T15:52:00.000-07:00

Good question. Conflict of laws "encompasses several related areas of law: choice of law, constitutional limitations on choice of law, jurisdiction of courts, [and] recognition of sister-state judgments..." Brilmayer xxvii.

We're gonna be focused on choice of law, cuz it's the hardest (for me, at least), but to explain some of the others briefly (again, "explain" means "tell y'all what I think it means," not "tell y'all what it means"):

*Jurisdiction of courts: Does a federal court have jurisdiction over a state claim? Does a TX court have jurisdiction over an IL resident? Does a TX court have jurisdiction over a British corporation? (etc.) This obviously is not a definition but rather a listing of examples, but that's cuz a definition is beyond the scope of this blog.

*Recognition of sister-state judgments: Does an IL court have to give "full faith and credit" to a decision that a TX court reached? (Basically, yes.)

Okay, so what is choice of law? Maybe a (not so) hypothetical situation will help elucidate it:

Mr. Carroll is a citizen of Alabama. He works as a brakeman on a railroad. The RR he works for is an Alabama corporation that runs a train from TN through AL into MS. Carroll works on the part of the line between Birmingham, AL, and Meridian, MS. On the train somewhere in MS, a link between two traincars breaks, and Carroll gets hurt. What happened? One of the RR's employees failed to inspect the train links while the train was still in Alabama. (This employee was "negligent," which is typically a cause for action.) Neither AL state law nor MS state law, however, allows Carroll to recover money from his employer (the RR) for negligence on the part of an employee. So, Carroll is out of luck, right? Well, wouldn't you know it, there's a statute in Alabama called the Employer's Liability Act of Alabama, which might allow Carroll to recover some money. MS, however, lacks such a statute.

So, I think you can see where we're going with this. If the court decides to apply MS law, Carroll loses. If the court decides to apply AL law, Carroll has at least a chance of winning. (At this point you may be asking, "well, which court is hearing this case--an AL state court or a MS state court?" Surprisingly, I'm pretty sure that the answer to this question is immaterial for our purposes...counter-intuitive, no?)

Okay, this fact pattern actually did happen once upon a time. I took the facts from an 1892 case. The judge in this case applied a "traditional" approach to this issue of choice of law that is now outdated in a majority of states. But still, the prof wanted us to read this case and he knows more about teaching Conflicts than I do, so I'm gonna post it.

Before I get into the holdings of the case, try to decide which law you'd apply (and why). I know that thinking critically sucks when the answer is just around the corner, but, uh, do it anyways.

.
.
.

The judge held that MS law applies. He held that there can be no recovery in one State (AL) for injuries to the person sustained in another State (MS) unless the infliction of the injuries is actionable (that is, if you have grounds to sue on) under the law of the State in which they were received (MS). So, if MS had this Employer's Liability Act, a MS court could award damages to Carroll. Hell, an Alabama court--applying MS law--could award damages to Carroll. (Yes, State 1 can and often does apply State 2's law.) But, our court cannot award damages because it must apply MS law and MS has no law that would allow Carroll to recover damages.

Why does the judge care so much about where the injury occurs? After all, the negligence took place in Alabama. If our boy Carroll had gotten hurt in MS "normally" (i.e., in a manner not caused by negligence), he'd have no right to sue cuz he'd have no action (i.e., no law to sue on). Sure, the injury in MS is a necessary prerequisite of the lawsuit, but so is the negligence in AL!

Here's my best understanding of what the judge was thinking: "Look, a negligent action without an injury isn't Negligence. If I drive my Corvette negligently and almost hit your car parked on the street (you're sitting in your house and are unaware of what happened), you can't sue me because you haven't suffered any damages.* Failing to inspect the train became actionable when Carroll suffered an injury."

The court treats as dispositive (being a deciding factor--comes from the fact that if a court decides this issue, it can dispose of the lawsuit) this question: "Where did the last event necessary to make someone (allegedly) liable for a tort occur?" This is nice because it makes our job easier...you figure out where the last even occurred, look at that state's laws, and apply those laws. The end. But, is that fair?

Later, we'll be talking about choices of law with respect to intentional torts. (Negligence is not an intentional tort.) Btw, a tort is "a civil wrong, other than breach of contract, for which a remedy may be obtained, usu. in the form of damages." (Black's law dictionary.) Should the fact that I meant to hurt you affect our choice of law? Stay tuned!

*I say "parked car" to avoid murky questions of emotional distress, etc. that might arise if I narrowly avoid hitting you while we're both driving. Also: yes, they did have Corvettes in 1892.

Conflicts of Law

2009-09-16T15:24:00.000-07:00

So, I was riding the elevator up to the library with some 3L's a few nights ago. One of 'em espied my Conflicts of Law casebook, turned to me, and said, "so, you're gonna be a Chancellor, huh?" (A Chancellor is someone who has one of the top 16 GPAs in his class of 400 or so.) If I had my wits about me, I woulda said something like, "I think I'm already mathematically eliminated from contention." (Instead, I kinda just laughed and issued a generic denial.)

The point of this anecdote, however, is not to give myself a virtual do-over. Rather, it's to impress upon y'all the reputation that Conflicts has among the law school. It's reputed to be the most challenging course--my peers cringe when I mention that I'm taking it--and, what's worse, only the best and brightest take it, generally. (Is that because the best and brightest like to challenge themselves academically? Well, maybe, but it's also an essential course for someone looking to land a judicial clerkship after graduation. I'll let you decide for yourself whether your typical law student is extrinsically or intrinsically motivated.)

Now, before we go any further, let me stress that I am neither the best nor the brightest. I'm not looking for a clerkship, either. I took the course because (1) I didn't believe the hype, (2) the material seemed interesting, and (3) I like the professor (had him for Civil Procedure).

Okay, so why bring this up? Cuz we just got into the meat of the course and I'm gonna use this blog as a means for studying. I figure that if I can translate the lectures and cases into something that you (an intelligent reader, no doubt, but one who likely has little training in the law) can comprehend, I'll learn the material more thoroughly and flesh out my own misunderstandings, etc, along the way.

Please note that I cannot warrant that my understanding of the material is accurate. This is a relatively unvarnished look at a 2L's attempt to grasp some very confusing concepts, that's all.

Things I Learned Today

2009-08-28T19:03:00.000-07:00

I like this topic, so I'm gonna stick with it until it has run its course.

*I learned that "riparian" means "of, on, or relating to the banks of a natural course of water." In a similar vein, I also learned that "effluent" means "something that flows out or forth, especially (among other things) a stream that flows out of a body of water. [Note: all definitions are coming from thefreedictionary.com.]

Context: Reading for Environmental Law, of course.

*I learned that Sheryl Crow sold her catalogue for $10 million. Not bad. I should probably say something like "All she wants to do is have some fun, amirite?!?!" but I'm above that.

Context: Listening to the radio in my CD-playerless car.

*I learned that tundra is a biome (an area, essentially) whereas permafrost is the actual soil that stays below 32 degrees year-round. At least, that's my understanding as of now--I could have that mixed up.

Context: Ironically, this has nothing to do with Environ Law. I was watching Cash Cab and this question arose (my best approximation): "What soil or surface covering 70% of Alaska is known for staying at or below 32 degrees year-round?" I guessed tundra, it was permafrost (which sounds obvious when you read the question with the word perma-frost in your head).

*I learned that "[i]t is not always easy to decide what is heads and tails on a given coin. Numismatics (the scientific study of money) defines the obverse and reverse of a coin rather than heads and tails." (from random.org) and here I've been saying "heads" and "tails" like a sucker!

Context: $10k flips to get unstuck after a bad session, obviously.

*Finally, I learned that Tracy (no one we knew, of course) should probably never use facebook again.

Context: 2p2

(Some of the) Things I've Learned Today

2009-08-26T20:09:00.001-07:00

School has resumed and my cup now runneth over with knowledge. Today, I learned the following things:

*I learned that "anthropogenic" means "caused by humans." (Used when discussing pollutants and other bad things that man has produced.) I discovered this while doing my reading for Environmental Law.

*In a related matter, I learned that Environmental Law is going to be a boring course.

*I learned that back in the day, motorists driving into a state different from their domicile were once required to pull over near the border and execute a consent to be sued. Why? Well, this is most easily explained with an example, so let's say you're driving from IL into WI. (Let's assume that there's something worth seeing in Wisconsin...a stretch, I know.) Let's also say that you crash into a Wisconsinite in his home state. This Wisconsinite wants to sue you--a dirty FIB--for negligence. Let's also say that we're all living in 1880. Finally, Wisconsinite wants to sue you in a Wisconsin state court. Well, the Supreme Court said in Pennoyer v. Neff (1878) that a state court has "personal jurisdiction" over you only if you are within the State. So, if you are back in Illinois, Wisconsinite cannot bring the suit in a Wisconsin court.

In short, Pennoyer premised personal jurisdiction on presence. So, if you were stupid enough to go back to Wisconsin, you could get served in Wisconsin and then all of a sudden you hafta appear in front of a Wisconsin state court. Oops! Anyways, Pennoyer mighta made sense when it was written, but with the advent of automobiles and whatnot, the test (of presence) made less sense. So, for a short time, motorists had to sign those consent forms (waiving their objections on the grounds of personal jurisdiction, essentially). Later, courts came up with the legal fiction that motorists, by driving across state lines, impliedly consented to being served via a State official. Finally, we just trashed Pennoyer (more or less) and came up with a different standard.

Confused? Yeah, same here. That's not all, either: there's also "subject-matter jurisdiction" issues. For example: can a federal court hear a breach of contract claim? (Breaches of contract are purely state matters.) Can a state court hear a case concerning federal legislation? There's also some sick, sick stuff about determining whether a state court should apply its own state law or a different state's law, but I have no idea how that stuff works, haha. Stay tuned, I guess.

*I learned that "Doin' Time" is a loose cover of a Gershwin song (covered here by Janis Joplin...I probably should have known this by now, but I guess I cut that day of 'Sublime Songs 101'.

*Back to vocabulary quickly, I learned that "factitious" means "lacking authenticity; a sham". I only throw that in here cuz the definition is kinda counterintuitive (maybe it's not if you're an etymology major).

*I finally learned what "Cap and Trade" means...it's not confusing at all, but I never bothered to look it up. Thanks, Environ Law!

*I learned that China pollutes more than we do, but that we have more pollution per capita. On the other hand, in terms of pollution per unit of GDP, the U.S. is just chilling in the middle of the pack. U-S-A! (Btw, guess where I learned that?)

*I learned that both sides of the political aisle are framing the American Clean Energy & Security Act (ACES) as a "jobs bill." (Obama's words, but echoed by a Republican congressman.)

*I learned that Denis Clemente could probably beat me in HORSE (basketball, not poker, haha).

3 AM and I Kant Sleep

2009-08-03T01:05:00.000-07:00

People have an unhappy habit of conflating legality with morality. I recently admonished my cousin for trash-talking his brother (these are young kids--his insult and my subsequent scolding were both innocuous). His reply? "The Constitution gives us all a right to free speech." (Yes, this kid is too precocious for his own good.) This is a simplistic example of a straw-man argument that you'll hear throughout your life. Don't fall for it. Yes, we should theoretically have a legal system that embodies our morality, but that's not the case. (For one, whose morality should we embody?) There are numerous examples of actions which are largely accepted as immoral that (rightly so) remain legal: lying* and committing adultery come to mind. I'm having a tougher time thinking of affirmatively moral actions that are illegal...that's probably a good thing that few if any examples exist. Admittedly, there are a healthy number of amoral actions that are illegal: antitrust laws, speeding laws, maybe even statutory rape laws. ("Statutory rape" as defined in a penal code is arguably way too broad to be classified as wholly immoral. I hate to qualify that statement but it's 3 AM and I could be thinking nebulously.)

*You don't have to be Kant to realize that there are some situations in which lying is immoral. No, I didn't reference Kant in order to tie the post back to the title. I swear.

Poker, Math, and Theory (continued)

2009-07-30T22:02:00.001-07:00

Okay, a quick update on the previous post: I consulted with my braintrust, two respected and feared poker players with healthy experience at the stakes I play. Here are there thoughts and my reactions:

(1) Jaconda felt I unfairly discounted the chance that Carl would flat-call my 4bet. She's right in that I should have given that possibility more weight; however, I think it's a weird play to flat a 4bet for a total of 25% of your stack. Also, we have to remember that Carl is out of position (OOP). Position is extremely important in poker and even more so in no-limit games like the one we're playing. Players out of position like to negate their disadvantage by getting the money in preflop if possible. Putting the money AIPF (all-in preflop) means that the player OOP won't be forced to make difficult decisions without the advantage of seeing how his opponent has acted.

Additionally, what is he gonna flat with here? I can see flatting AA and KK maybe but Carl has to think that we have a big hand and are gonna be c-betting virtually every flop (if only cuz we have such a strong image and the pot is so big). Would he flat AK? No way...he doesn't wanna play a flop with two big cards. What about TT, etc? Again, no way...he's not gonna wanna do this because he's gonna have such a hard time with a large number of flops. Unless Carl is setting up an elaborate and bizarre bluff, I can't imagine him flatting here. Even if he has QQ+, he's gonna wanna get it AIPF cuz my hand range loses so much strength after a flop and Carl wants to maximize value.

(2) Both Jaconda and Eltrain think that we should be folding to a 5bet shove. This disagreement comes from the fact that they're giving Carl credit for a much stronger range than I am. This is something that cannot be resolved, unfortunately, because only Carl knows what he would 5bet shove here. Assuming arguendo that his range is much stronger than I think (and that Carl is either gonna fold or shove to our 4bet), Jaconda and Eltrain are correct in that it doesn't matter what our cards are because we're folding to his shove. Ideally, we'd like to have an ace in our hand, only because that makes it less likely that Carl has an ace, which means that he's more likely to fold. Complicated, I know, but that's (online) poker.

By the way: I folded preflop, fwiw. No me gusta variance, haha.

Poker, Math, and Theory

2009-07-14T22:03:00.000-07:00

This hand happened tonight, and I had no idea what to do. (This is rare for me, because I've played many, many hands...arguably too many, haha.) It turned into a pretty helpful mathematical exercise: hopefully the thought process is correct.

PokerStars Game #30473142887: Hold'em No Limit ($2/$4) - 2009/07/14 22:25:35 ET

Table 'Kalliope III' 9-max Seat #5 is the button

Seat 3: Billy ($400 in chips)

Seat 5: Carl ($400 in chips)

Seat 6: Dan ($400 in chips)

Dan: posts small blind $2

Billy: posts big blind $4

*** HOLE CARDS ***

Dealt to Billy [8s 8c]

Carl: raises $8 to $12

Dan raises $30 to $42

Billy calls, raises, or folds??!?

Okay, let’s take this from the top. Our goal, as it always should be in poker, is to play optimally. This means that we try to make the correct mathematical decision every time we have a choice of action (bet, fold, raise, check). En otras palabras, we wanna play like this guy:

In this case, of course, we only have three options. Let's go through them one by one:

Call: This one makes no sense for us. Past experience with Dan (we've played 2771 hands against each other) tells me that he's a very aggressive player. (For those who know what these numbers mean, he's 17.5/15.1 with an astounding 8.5 3bet% over the 2771 hand sample, which includes a lot of shorthanded play.) Since he's so aggressive, he has a relatively wide range here. (Range means "the various hands he can have.") He's almost certainly not going to have 72o (seven-deuce offsuit), but he could have something like T9s (ten-nine suited). If we call his bet, we're going to have a very hard time playing a flop against him because we have little idea of what hand he has. What if the flop is Q75? T93? AA2? What do we do? I have no idea. He's aggressive, so we know he's gonna bet out on the flop, which will force us to make a very hard decision. Hard decisions are bad--it's like lighting money on fire. We're only gonna be playing optimally when we flop an 8 (because we're never ever ever folding when we flop a set), but that happens about 12% of the time...not nearly enough to justify a call.

Raise: Fortune favors the bold, right? Certainly, raising has its advantages. We have an image of being tight, aggressive, and a solid player. Thus, a re-re-raise (a/k/a 4bet) from us here is scary as hell. It screams strength. If we scream strength, we have tremendous Fold Equity (FE). Fold Equity is an essential concept that many new players do not sufficiently grasp. If, for example, Dan folds to our 4bet any time he doesn't have AA, we should 4bet him at every opportunity because we're gonna win almost every pot. Yeah, there'll be that 1 time where he does in fact have AA and we lose a buy-in, but that'll happen so infrequently that the numerous small pots we rake in will more than make up for the one big loss. In other words, in that hypo the 4bet has a positive expected value. That's good for us: every time we make a +EV play, it's like we're printing money.

So, in deciding whether to raise, it's helpful to know how often Dan will fold to our raise. We can't know that, unfortunately, but we can guess. (Remember, since he himself raised, we can assume that his range is stronger than just any two random cards; as a result, he'll fold less often than if he just held random cards.) Of course, his fold percentage depends on the amount of our raise. If we raise to $72 (making the minimum raise), he'll fold maybe 20% of the time. Likewise, if we raise to $400 (going all-in), he'll fold maybe 80% of the time. So, why not just go all-in? Because we're risking a helluva lot of money to win what's currently in the pot. Theoretically, there's some magic number that gives us the most FE for the money we risk (the best bang for our buck, if you will), but that's incalculable without getting into Dan's head. Let's say that our magic number is around $120. (That's a pretty standard raise, so I feel good with saying that $120 is our best choice when deciding what amount to raise to.)

At this point, we need two pieces of information: what percentage of the time Dan folds to our 4bet to $120, and what is the range of hands he can have if he 5bets (re-re-re-raises) us. The range we can approximate: he probably will 5bet with AQ, AK, 77+ (77, 88, 99...). Now, time for some math:

We raise to $120. There's now $174 in the pot (12 + 42 + 120). Let's assume that Carl folds. Action swings back to Dan: he has to put in $78 to call ($120 - $42). He's either gonna fold or go all-in. (Trust me.) Let's see what happens if he goes all in:

Using pokerstove.com software, we have 39.5% equity against the range we've given him. That means that, on average, we're gonna win 39.5 * $812, or $321. That sounds great, except we started with $400.* So, we lose $79 over the long run.

Now, what if he folds? Well, easy: we win $58 (12 + 42 + the 4 we put in as big blind).

So, we have two possible results: winning $58 or losing $79. To determine whether a raise is a +EV play, we need to know the relative proportions that these two results will occur. (Again, if he folds 99% of the time, we're gonna win $58 ninety-nine times and lose $79 one time. That's +EV.) We can't know this exactly, but we can determine what the minimum FE we need to make the raise a +EV play. That's just seventh-grade algebra:

-79(1-x) + 58x = 0.

137x = 79

x = 57.7%

So, if he folds more than 57.7% of the time to our 4bet, we're making money in the long run. It's reasonable to expect him to fold at least 60% of the time, so raising is a +EV play.

Fold: Folding is not +EV in this case, for obvious reasons.

So, in conclusion, we should raise. In reaching this conclusion, we assumed a few things: that Dan folds to a 4bet >57.7% of the time, that Carl folds 100% of the time, that Dan will either fold or go all-in when confronted with our raise, and that we have 39.5% equity against Dan's 5bet range.

Now, here comes the interesting part. It should be clear that the more equity we have against Dan's 5bet range, the lower our FE can be to keep our raise +EV. For an obvious example, let's say we have AA. Then, our equity is about 83%. We win money (in the long run) if we get it all in, and we win money (in both the long and short runs) if he folds. Sweet. With AA, the best starting hand in poker, it's obvious that raising is +EV (the pertinent preflop question when we have AA is which action is most +EV, fwiw). With 72o, we have terrible equity, so we need some extremely high FE number to make the raise profitable. 88 fits in the middle.

But, let's mess around with our hand a bit. What if we have QJs? What if we have 22? What if we have A3o? Again, it's obvious that as long as we keep our equity above approximately 39%, raising is profitable.

QJs: 36.14% equity.

22: 31.62% equity.

A3o: 27.43% equity.

Yikes, not so hot for any of 'em. QJs is the most palatable, so let's do that calculation:

(.3614 * 812) -400 = -107

-107(1-x) + 58x = 0

165x = 107

x = 65%

So, we now need him to fold 65% of the time...hmm, that's right on the border. Good to know, though.

(btw: AQo: 37.41%; JTs: 36.39%)

Moral of the story: If anyone ever tells you that poker is a game of luck, just smile and nod. Then, challenge him to play you heads-up. Or, better yet, refer him to me and I'll play him heads-up.

_________________

*Technically, we started with $396 after we were forced to put in the big blind, but let's keep this simple.

11 Best Led Zep Songs

2009-07-12T22:34:00.000-07:00

Operational Definition: these are the top 11 Led Zeppelin songs, in order. I have done my best to consider only the quality of the music (not the historical significance, popular opinion, cute backstory, etc.) for each song.

Also, this ranking is far different from the task of "make the ultimate Led Zeppelin album." En otras palabras, es posible que these songs do not go well together as a playlist.

My qualifications: On the "plus" side, I have every studio album, the BBC Sessions, How the West Was Won (DVD and CD's), and the important tracks from Coda. On the "minus" side, I
was born years after September 25, 1980; I have never heard Zep while high; and I don't have very many bootlegs.

11. Kashmir: Damn, this must be a helluva list if Kashmir can't crack the top 10. Hopefully my credibility hasn't gone out the window.

10. When the Levee Breaks: See, I look at Kashmir as PG's version of When the Levee Breaks. When I compare the two, I like Levee more. Close your eyes and I bet you can hear the opening drums. Then, the harmonica. The lyrics aren't too special, but this song is just so heavy and tight that it belongs on this list.

9. Night Flight: I'm a bit of a sucker for the happy Zeppelin songs, I have to admit. Also, when Plant sings, "Oh mama, well I think it's time I'm leavin'", I just smile and smile.

8. Fool in the Rain: Underrated because it's on one of their worst albums.

7 (tie). Going to California: Joni!
7 (tie). Ramble On

6. Bring It On Home: You're probably scratching your head at this one. I freely admit that I love this song more than the fabled Reasonable Person. Plant's vocals on the first verse don't cut it for me, but I love the harmonica and the curious crescendo. Also, the How The West Was Won version is tight.

5. Bron-Y-Aur Stomp: Jeez, more acoustic stuff? Yeah, sorry. You're lucky I didn't throw in "That's the Way."

4. Black Dog: I dare you to find a better opening to an album than the first 20 or so seconds of Black Dog.

3. Over The Hills and Far Away: Beautiful opening guitar riff, simple and solid lyrics, strong vocals. "I live for my dreams and a pocket full of gold." Is "gold" supposed to mean "money" or "marijuana"? We report, you decide!

2. Since I've Been Loving You: The guitar solo, the crescendo, Plant's vocals. "Do you remember mama when I knocked upon your door? I said you had the nerve to tell me you didn't want me no more. I open my front door, hear my back door slam...you know I must have one of them new-fangled backdoor men." Also, what good is a Zep list without acknowledging Zep's roots in blues?

1. Hey Hey What Can I Do (Street Corner Girl): I love how this song combines an upbeat melody (if that's the word) with somewhat depressing lyrics. (Cf. "Heavy Things" by Phish.) Also, I have a special affinity for songs that tell a bit of a story, as this one does. Plus, who among us hasn't dated a prostitute?

"Hey, why not..."

"Achilles' Last Stand?" Admittedly, it's epic and one of the group's favorites. I just don't dig it that much. It starts so heavy that it has nowhere to go.

"All My Love?" Incomprehensible lyrics, for one. Also, it's too pretty.

"Ten Years Gone?" Eh, I guess I'm in too good a mood, haha.

"Carouselambra?" Seriously?

"Stairway to Heaven?" Because I like those other songs more.

I'd better publish this post now before I start second-guessing myself ("jeez, how can I not have 'Dazed and Confused' on this list?"). Peace out, Seacrest!

Affirmative Action

2009-03-13T18:24:00.000-07:00

Wooooo, Spring Break! Time to book my flight to Vegas...I'm gonna be gambling all day, partying all night, and this'll be the craziest week of my life!

Oh, wait: I'm a 1L. That means that I'll be spending large portions of my spring break outlining for my courses instead of heading to the beach. Working over the holidays? Come On!

On the plus side, I finally get the opportunity to work on something that I've neglected over the last few months: I get to start thinking critically about the material I've been digesting. (I figure) this type of thought is essential both for acquiring a comprehensive understanding of the various areas of law and for determining whether this is actually the profession to which I want to dedicate myself. Still, this isn't a very pleasant academic exercise for me, because I'm not as intellectual as many of y'all. So, as a veritable compromise, I'm gonna start with a more palatable topic of discussion: affirmative action. (Trust me, AA is about 50x more interesting than debating the merits of, say, diversity jurisdiction.) My professor posed to our class a few questions to ponder in between games of beer pong, so I'll use them as this post's springboard.

First, a premise: we are only talking about state-sponsored AA. In other words, don't count on that laissez-faire trump card to bail you out on this one, haha.

1. Is there justification for AA if it harms innocent individuals?

Okay, we discussed this one in class. First, there was debate over whether AA does in fact "harm" an Innocent. (In the interests of efficiency and clarity, I'm going to turn "innocent" into a proper noun to denote "an innocent individual." Forgive my laziness, mkay?) Let's just assume arguendo that AA does inherently harm Innocents.* Most had no problem saying that the fact that AA harms Innocents does not by itself suffice to defeat the policy. In supporting this claim, they pointed to** examples such as a general tax that supports welfare, or a law that bans 14 year olds from driving. While those examples won't be completely analogous, they each demonstrate an instance in which an Innocent is sacrificed. In the words of one of my fellow 1L's, "good luck finding a law that won't harm any innocents."

Well, I originally nodded my head in assent when he made that pithy assertion, but now I'm not so sure. Admittedly, laws discriminate all the time. The drinking age discriminates against those under 21, e.g. Surely, that potential 20 year old drinker is an Innocent, and yet he suffers. But, what about Criminal Law? How does a "thou shall not rape" law harm an Innocent?

That said, even I must concede that laws must be permitted to harm an individual (that is, take away some of an individual's liberties) for the sake of the people. For example, our 1st Amendment rights to freedom of speech and free exercise of religion are constrained. You can't falsely shout "fire" in a crowded theatre.*** If your religion requires you to sacrifice human virgins, guess what: you can't do that.

So, to this point all we've said is that a law that does harm Innocents should not be prima facie unconstitutional. Now, let's decide whether AA specifically should be legitimate. (I'm attempting to avoid the word "constitutional" because this is a normative discussion that's doing its best to steer clear of actual law.)

See, my initial reaction is this: AA benefits one race at the expense of another race. (To keep this simple, let's just assume that there are only 2 races in America.) AA in any form is a type of discrimination (we'll call it "benign discrimination"). Public discrimination should be illegal. Therefore, public AA should be illegal. Obviously, the logic here is valid, but is it sound? Our first premise is true: both sides agree that AA is a type of discrimination in that it uses race alone to privilege one group over another. So, let's move on to the second premise.

"Public discrimination should be illegal." True? Well, maybe not. This all depends on your opinion of the proper function of a government. If the government should merely protect its citizens equally and apply the laws equally to all citizens, then this premise is true. But, if you prefer a more "activist" government (sorry for the potentially loaded language), you'll say something like this:

"In light of the sorry history of discrimination and its devastating impact on the lives of Negroes, bringing the Negro into the mainsteram of American life should be a state interest of the highest order." (Justice Marshall dissenting in Regents of the University of California v. Bakke, 438 U.S. 265 (1978).)

...and y'know, it's tough to argue with that. I mean, think about it like this: if a black could prove that he personally had been harmed as a result of state-sponsored discrimination (Jim Crow, perhaps), wouldn't the government have a duty to make amends? Wouldn't the most effective means of amends be something like a "boost" in his college application rather than something like a lump sum of money? (Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day...)

Okay, now does that black person even need to prove that discrimination has personally touched his life? In the words of Marshall, "the racism of our society has been so pervasive that [no Negro], regardless of wealth or position, has managed to escape its impact." Neither proof nor a demonstration of "personal" harm should be necessary.

But, is it fair that this boost comes at the expense of a white student? One may claim that the hurt is so diffused that it's barely noticeable, but I disagree. A tax on everyone in order to pay for the rebuilding efforts in NOLA: that's something that's spread out sufficiently. Everyone pays $5, and the country has $10 million to use. (No, I don't like the tax, that's irrelevant for this purpose.) With AA, you only hurt those 5 white students who lose out to the 5 black students, but you hurt those 5 whites a lot. Looking on a "micro" level, this seems too unfair to justify AA. On a "macro" level, maybe you can justify the program. I'm still unsure about this.

So, hypothetically we allow AA, at least until general racial discrimination in America has vanished. But, is that a workable test? How will we know when general racial discrimination has vanished? Will we just "know it when we see it?" In theory, we'll one day become a fully integrated and equal society. At that point, we would have absolutely no justifications for AA, so to continue an AA program once we crossed that threshold would be wrong. When will we know when to stop?

Then again, how pressing of a concern is that, honestly. So in 100 years, we'll reach a point where blacks will be benefitting unfairly from an AA program until enough whites figure it out and the program gets repealed. This is a pretty minor problem in the grand scheme of things.

Returning back to Marshall's (first cited) quote, we seem to have reached the point where we agree that integrating blacks is a "state interest." That doesn't make it inherently legal, however. (Now I'm shifting the debate from "should we have AA?" to "is it legal to have AA?") For example, it's a legitimate state interest to stop murders, but that doesn't mean that the government can take your gun from you. Depending on the type of right that the governmental action is burdening, the Supreme Court will analyze the case in one of multiple ways.

Here comes a lesson in constitutional law, which, it turns out, is significantly harder than my undergrad prof made it out to be, haha.

The 14th Amendment reads in part that "[n]o state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." (Emphasis added, of course.)

That last part of the quoted material is known as the "equal protection clause," and it's a major source of controversy. It's also a major tool used by minorities to obtain legal protection. A few things to note: the Amendment says "no state"; it makes no reference to private parties or to the United States federal government. That said, the Supreme Court held in 1954 in Bolling v. Sharpe that the 14th Amendment does apply, at least loosely, to the federal government.****
Also, don't read this Amendment too literally. You can still classify people...laws do that all the time. In general, the classification need only have a "rational basis" in order to pass constitutional muster. This is a pretty low hurdle to clear.

So, we had a lot of jurisprudence on all parts of the 14th Amendment, and I won't bore you with the details. Then, in 1938, a case called Carolene comes along. No one besides Kate Wagner remembers any of the facts, but everyone knows about its famous "Footnote 4", in which (the law clerk for) Justice Stone suggests in a footnote that maybe there are certain "suspect classifications" (such as "discrete and insular" minorities) that the Court should examine especially closely. His reasoning? These minorities will rarely, if ever, have a political majority, so it's more likely that they will be hurt disproportionately by any laws. As opposed to the "rational basis test" employed for other classifications, the Court proceeded to use "strict scrutiny" when considering laws that classified on the basis of race.

What does "strict scrutiny" mean? Well, the law may still survive, but it's gonna be damn near impossible. In order for the law to survive strict scrutiny, it must address a "compelling state interest" and its means must be narrowly tailored and sufficiently relate to the purpose.

Let me give you some examples: a state law that sets the driving age at 16 is not based on a suspect classification. Therefore, it just needs to clear the "rational basis" hurdle, which it'll do easily. On the other hand, a law that prohibits interracial marriage will be struck down because this governmental interest isn't sufficiently compelling. A law that prohibits dissent in the interest of winning a war is a bit trickier: the governmental interest is sufficiently compelling, but the means are not sufficiently related to the purpose. (In case you're wondering, the Court gives us little guidance as to what it considers "sufficiently compelling.")

The Court has no problem applying Strict Scrutiny to cases in which minorities are targeted. When the majority is targeted (as in the case of AA), the Court recently held that yes, Strict Scrutiny does apply here as well. Take my word for it or read City of Richmond v. Croson, 488 U.S. 469 (1989). (I can't be sure whether this is the last word, though, cuz we haven't yet read the recent AA cases, but a cursory glance suggests that SS still stands.)

So, now we have a pretty straightforward formula to employ. I've already maintained that the state interest in integration is compelling. Whether the means are narrowly tailored and sufficiently related depends on the individual cases, but I'd suggest that AA is indeed sufficiently related to the goal of integration.

CliffsNotes of where I come out: Within reason, governments have the right to harm individuals for the betterment of the group. I'm still not sure whether AA itself achieves enough positives to outweigh the negatives of hurting those 5 innocent white students. I do think that AA will generally be constitutional, but it'll depend on the specific setup of the program.

Thanks for reading. Now, respond.

*One girl suggested that, since Innocents have had preferential treatment beforehand, they're not harmed per se. I couldn't follow her reasoning, though. Pulling someone down doesn't hurt that person simply because he previously had been boosted up? Wat?

**To be completely honest, there will be many times in this post where I'll claim that my classmates "said" something when in reality they didn't. In other words, to facilitate the discussion, I'll be putting words in my peers' mouths (in their defense, you'd be reticent too if you were put on the spot in the last class before spring break. Well, unless you're Ryan, haha).

***When you inevitably quote this part of the memorable Oliver Wendell Holmes opinion some time in your life, do me a favor and make sure not to omit the word "falsely." You don't want to leave yourself open to an attack from a particularly picky onlooker.

****How did the Court come to this conclusion that seems to contradict a plain reading of the Constitution? It used something called "reverse incorporation." A brief, mostly correct explanation: the Bill of Rights didn't originally apply to the States. They only applied to the federal government. (Read the 1st Amendment: "Congress shall make no law...") But, once the 14th Amendment passed, the Justices slowly began to use the Due Process Clause of that Amendment to apply some (but not all) of the original 10 amendments to the State governments. That process is known as "incorporation." Reverse incorporation, then, is applying to the federal government something that previously applied exclusively to the States (like, say, the 14th Amendment). The Court used the Due Process Clause of the 5th Amendment to achieve this result.

Sports Talk

2009-02-03T15:36:00.000-08:00

Maybe you've heard that some athletes (baseball players, sprinters, etc.) have taken performance-enhancing drugs in their pursuit of perfection. I dunno, it's not a big story or anything, but it was in the news a bit over the last few years. Anyways, after most revelations (Rafael Palmeiro, for instance), I've tended to raise an eyebrow but also shrug my shoulders. I mean, we all knew that this underground cheating occurred...who cares if a semi-famous ex-Cub best known for his killer mustache got an edge? Yeah, it's disappointing and deplorable, but I'm not gonna lose sleep over it.

That said, there are some players who could just break my heart if it were ever revealed that they were users. You know what I'm talking about: as cynical as we spectators may be--especially with the recent revelations about Tim Donaghy and Spygate--there will always be athletes whom you idolize, not just for their accomplishments but also for their respect for the game. To that end, I came up with a roster of ten players who would devastate me if it were ever shown or proven that they had doped. When formulating this list, I did my best to consider a wide range of sports, even though steroid allegations dominate only a few games. I also limited this to athletes of my generation.

Also Receiving Votes: Roger Federer, Josh Hamilton, Michael Phelps, Andre Agassi, Tony Gwynn

10. Lance Armstrong: An easy pick whom most persons would have higher (or should I say, "lower"?) on their lists. If I cared at all about cycling, I'd probably feel the same way. You know his story by now, so let's move on.

9. Barry Sanders: He's pure talent...it'd be a shame if it were ever shown otherwise.

8. Cal Ripken, Jr: Okay, you caught me, I kinda had him at #8 by default. Still, he definitely deserves the Top 10; although the significance of his record remains debated, he played in over 2,000 consecutive games. What's more, he played well (400+ HR's, 3000+ hits). If he had illegal help in outlasting the Iron Horse, it would be a tragic blow for baseball purists.

7. Roger Clemens: Oh, wait.

6. Greg Maddux: Ahh, that's better. Mad Dog is easily the most cerebral pitcher I've ever seen play. (Don't believe me? Read this article. Actually, read it regardless.) He didn't need 100 mph fastballs to get out of a jam; he just out-thought you. It's virtually impossible that Maddux ever doped, if only because he had no need to, but he had so much respect for the history of baseball that it'd be tragic (and inconceivable) if he were to tarnish it.

5. Walter "Sweetness" Payton: Possibly the most beloved Chicago athlete ever (yes, that includes a certain #23), Sweetness had the workhorse mentality that led to ferocious off-season training. In fact, a hill in my hometown bears his name because Sweetness ran up the 92 foot elevation as often as 20 times per day (citation). Plus, he had more toughness than entire teams: for instance, he deliberately refused to run out-of-bounds, even in practice. Chicago takes so much pride in #34 that a steroid accusation would cause riots.

4. Tiger Woods: You want tough as nails? Give me Tiger Woods. Give me the 2008 U.S. Open, playing on a torn ACL AND a fractured leg. He's a hero to (professional and amateur) athletes everywhere. When you consider the fact that he has served as an unimpeachable role model for young golfers around the world, you realize how badly a steroid charge would damage his sport.

3. Michael Jeffrey Jordan: Self-explanatory.

2. Michael Johnson: 43.18. 19.32. Any questions?

1. Junior: No sport suffers from steroid allegations as much as baseball. In its fight to remain relevant with a new generation, baseball can't offer the pure athleticism showcased in the NBA or the ever-present drama of the NFL. Baseball relies on its place in history as a way to remain relevant. No other sport can compare the legends of your grandfather's era to today's superstars in quite the way that baseball can. We cared so much about McGwire and Sosa in 1998 because they were chasing records that had survived for decades (I pluralize "records" because we care as much about Ruth's 60 as Maris' 61). Each generation of baseball has its own quirks (a "dead ball", for instance, or a higher pitching mound), but fans can generally compare and contrast Babe Ruth with Mickey Mantle, Henry Aaron, and Albert Pujols. But, if the "Steroid Era" captures the brightest lights of our generation, those stars will be incomparable to their predecessors. Baseball will lose much of its history, and, by extension, will lose much of its allure.

Okay, so that's why I put a baseball player at the top of the list. Why The Kid? Gosh, he's just so pure. That sweet swing, that backwards hat, that speed and defense. Kids in Los Angeles, Chicago, and Boston all had Mariners jerseys, back before they even knew where to find Seattle on a map. He's the player you'd pretend to be when you were at-bat in Little League. Anyone else remember seeing the highlights of that up-the-wall catch in Yankee Stadium? What about the back-to-back home runs with his dad? Griffey's got 600 home runs and 10 gold gloves, and he played the game with the respect and honor it deserves. We all grew up idolizing Griffey; in some ways, he's our last player left. Bonds, McGwire, Sosa--they've all been tainted forever. If we lost The Kid, too...

Good or Better?

2009-02-01T23:15:00.000-08:00

"Deep inside every human being is the yearning to be self-motivated rather than controlled by rewards, authority, or some other aspect of the external environment." (From Supermotivation by Dean R. Spitzer)

Growing up, we spent a lot of time trying to get good. Why'd you practice the piano? Why'd you spend those hours juggling a soccer ball? To get good, of course. Maybe you wanted to get as good as Beethoven or Ronaldinho (though, from what I hear, Beethoven couldn't play soccer to save his life), but you likely weren't motivated by a desire to best anyone. You wanted to improve, to make it to a point where you could impress your friends, and that required attaining a certain level of skill. These days, though, it seems to make little difference whether you're good or bad at various skills and challenges: it only matters whether you're better or worse.

Law school exemplifies this new development. With every major course on a mandatory curve, you could conceivably earn the highest grades without much absolute knowledge of the topic...so long as your ignorance paled in comparison to your peers'. This sentiment manifest itself in the oft-repeated joke--if you can call it that--heard reverberating through the venerable halls of UT Law: "Think of the law school as a bear, and think of your classmates as fellow campers. To survive, you don't need to outrun the bear; you just need to outrun enough of your classmates."

The relative merits of the curve system have been debated at length, and I have no interest in reinvigorating this discussion. (Nor should you take my example as either an endorsement or a criticism of the sytem.) Rather, what aggravates me, to a point, is the universality of this theme of "betterment." Want a job? Be better than the other candidates. Want a date? Be better than the other suitors. Want to win in sports, poker, or backgammon? Be better than your opponent. Whatever happened to the pursuit of an absolute, rather than a relative, mastery of a skill or subject? Did this pursuit ever genuinely exist in the first place?

A few acknowledgements before I proceed:
Yes, I realize that you can avoid getting caught up in the various competitions simply by becoming perfect (Francisco D'Anconia, anyone?). If you achieve total mastery, you will succeed or win without ever needing glance at your competitiors. That is so unrealistic a scenario that I feel comfortable dismissing it.
Yes, I realize that you can reframe my piano and soccer examples so that the player is not attempting to achieve a certain level of skill but rather is trying to become better than his former self. At the risk of dismissing this quibble too flippantly, you're rarely competing with only yourself for that summer job.
Yes, I referenced Ronaldinho just so I could put a link to that Joga Bonito commercial. Speaking of which, who's that old man with the unintelligible accent? Well, before he did TV ads, he did this (oh, and this).

Back when I spent more time playing poker, I had virtually no competitive streak. I derived little to no joy from winning a game of Horse or racquetball. For better or worse, poker had stripped me of this type of satisfaction. It makes sense, obviously: the correct plays in a game of poker are rewarded so infrequently and sporadically (due to the luck involved) that a player with the immediate goal of "winning" will almost certainly go broke. Of course, it's not as though I could no longer get anything out of a sport or game. Rather, I took delight in performing as perfectly as possible. In poker, this just means making the mathematically correct move at every opportunity. In a game like racquetball, it might mean making proper decisions regarding where and when to hit the ball. For example, if in a normal game of racquetball I made the proper decision 80% of the time, I'd be happy if I made the proper decision >80% of the time. My contentment varied directly and proportionally to the percentage of correct decisions.** What had no influence on my happiness, of course, was the outcome of the game. This makes sense: if you were to play Michael Jordan in basketball, you'd lose every game. You simply would have no way of beating him. If you derive happiness only from victories, you have no control whatsoever over your happiness. Your efforts, your decision-making, etc, are wholly squandered as a result.

This mindset kept me pretty loose and carefree throughout college, but it did have some weird side effects. I'd find myself watching a Bears game and they'd miss a last-second FG to win and I'd just think, "eh, Gould hits that 80% of the time, so in the long run they won this game." It wasn't a rationalization, either; I just had no concern for the outcome. In poker terms, I was the opposite of "results-oriented." While it occasionally led to bizarre scenarios, I relished this mindset because it had the effect of making an emotion (happiness) slightly more rational. Happiness could almost be quantified. Moreover, I alone controlled my success/failure (and, consequently, my happiness). Admittedly, the basketball court is only a small portion of my life, and thus a small portion of my happiness, but it was a start.

Law school changed this in me, unfortunately. With so much emphasis on grades and internships, I regressed to my competitive state of mind. This change manifest itself in sports, as well: in September, I just wanted to play well in racquetball. By November, I wanted to win.

These days, I find it more and more difficult to enjoy my successes (and not just because they occur less and less frequently, haha). I don't feel as though I've earned them. For example, let's pretend that I got a 4.0 this semester. (Those of you who've heard my story about my Contracts grade know that this counterfactual is, indeed, counterfactual and not a veiled brag.) From where should my satsfaction come? The 'A' I receive only reflects that I did better than the majority.* It says nothing about my absolute understanding of the material. It certainly can't measure how hard I worked, or how inherently intelligent I am with respect to Criminal or Contract Law. Plus, in certain classes, the difference between an A and a B+ will only be a few points. This makes sense, because if you put a group of similarly-equipped students in a room and instruct them identically, they will absorb approximately the same amount of material. Receiving a 4.0 across the board makes it less likely that any one grade is a fluke, but even if I'm undeniably the "best" in my section, what does that mean? I still may have no grasp of much of the major concepts; hell, our Contracts professor made it very clear that were there no curve, most of us would not pass her class. Maybe I just write the best under pressure. Maybe I can comprehend the introductory ideas but will struggle in upper-level courses. Grades, those omniscient, objective evaluators, don't do much of a job of evaluating me.

I certainly don't condemn the law school for its curve. Furthermore, I realize that competition deserves a prominent spot in our society. When we apply for jobs, for instance, we all have that baseline required acumen. Without ranking each candidate against the others, it'd be impossible to determine who should be hired. Better to compete than to leave such an important decision in the hands of an arbitrary decision-maker. Maybe that's a peaceful compromise: make absolute mastery a priority, and resort to relative mastery only as a tiebreaker. (I don't purport to have any answers...I'm just thinking aloud.)

*I want to make it unequivocally clear that I have tons of respect for the intelligence and academic discipline that most of my classmates possess. While I personally don't get much satisfaction out of "bettering" anyone, it'd be a tremendous compliment to succeed relative to the extremely capable men and women who take my classes.

**At first blush, it may seem easy to make a correct decision nearly 100% of the time. In a game of spades, for instance, unless you've lost your self-discipline you play the card that you think has the best chance of achieving your objective. So, you've made a bona fide attempt to make the correct decision nearly 100% of the time. Good faith, however, isn't good enough. Ex: I lead a diamond because I feel that it's my best chance to win. My opponent trumps and wins the trick. I made a good faith attempt, so what's the problem? Well, if I reasonably should've known that my opponent had no diamonds left (if we had previously played 3 diamond tricks in which the diamonds held, and if I had 1 diamond in my hand), I'm at fault for that error. The analogy holds, albeit tentatively, when applied to sports.

Dancing Between (Acid) Raindrops

2009-01-13T00:53:00.000-08:00

I returned to Austin on Sunday. While it's great to be back in a climate that considers 50 degrees unseasonably cool, I've been pretty bored since touching down. So, what's the cure for boredom? Socializing, meeting new people, etc. What's my "cure" for boredom? Playing online poker, of course! I've been downswinging* recently, so I felt extra pressure to right the ship this week, before I hafta start borrowing money from Russian mobsters. Late into my afternoon session, this hand comes up. (I changed the names of the players mostly for the sake of simplicity.) I could just throw the hand history up here without any explanation, but that wouldn't do it justice. Instead, I'll insert remarks throughout the hand history to explain my equity, thought process, etc.

Regarding this hand: the thought process is typical, the gameplay is typical, and the outcome is typical. The only thing remarkable is the way in which the outcome occurred.

First, though: why "acid" raindrops? Cuz of this song...check it out.

POKERSTARS GAME #23840203616: HOLD'EM NO LIMIT ($1/$2) - 2009/01/12 16:48:07 CT [2009/01/12 17:48:07 ET]
Table 'Menkib IX' 9-max Seat #6 is the button
Seat 1: Aaron ($260.25 in chips)
Seat 2: Billy ($200 in chips)
Seat 3: Carl ($218.70 in chips)
Seat 4: Dave ($142.90 in chips)
Seat 5: Eddie ($288 in chips)
Seat 6: Frank ($230.60 in chips)
Seat 8: Gary ($200 in chips)
Seat 9: Hank ($157.05 in chips)
Gary: posts small blind $1
Hank: posts big blind $2
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Billy [Kc Kh]
Aaron: folds
Billy: raises $4 to $6

This is the standard raise for this level...if we were playing live in Vegas or AC, I'd probably raise to $20 because every single live player is a fish. Online, however, $6 is enough to get some folds.

Carl: folds
Dave: calls $6

Dave has less than a full stack. (A full stack--ie, the maximum buy-in--for this table is 100 big blinds, or $200 in this case.) That's one of the best indicators that Dave is a fish--an amateur who generally will play more starting hands and play them more passively than a regular would. If you're a good player, you buy in full, because you (theoretically) have an edge at the table. If you have an edge, you want to maximize that edge by putting as much money in play as possible. Also, having a full buy-in allows you to get creative with bluffs, implied odds, and other semi-advanced concepts that an amateur doesn't fully understand. If good-->buy-in full. The contrapositive, of course, is true.

So, I'm definitely happy to see Dave call. I'm hoping he has something like JJ or AJ; that way, he might flop a hand (like a pair of jacks) that he views as strong enough to "play for stacks" (eventually bet all his money) but that still loses to my pair of kings.

Eddie: folds
Frank: folds
Gary: raises $24 to $30

Okay, over the last year or so I've played a few hundred hands against this opponent. He's like me in that he's tight and aggressive: he only plays a few starting hands, but when he plays them, he plays them aggressively. Aggression is essential to success in online poker. If you're passive, you can only win if your cards beat your opponents'. If you play aggressively, you can scare away opponents with inferior holdings in addition to winning with better cards. Of course, untempered aggression is easily exploited...that's where playing tightly comes into play.

Right now, my job is to put Gary on a hand. To do this, I put myself in his shoes. This is a fairly sound approach in this case, because since he plays like I play, it's fair to assume that he thinks similarly as well. Gary may be looking to steal the dead money in the pot. He knows that his raise suggests tremendous strength, especially because he's out-of-position (as small blind in this hand, Gary acts first after the flop, turn, and river). That means that I'll get to see how he reacts to the various community cards; this is a huge advantage for me. As such, Gary would be even more inclined to fold a marginal hand.

On the other hand, there's already $15 in the pot (1+2+6+6)...that's worth stealing. Besides, Gary isn't that worried about Dave. If Dave had a big hand, Dave would've reraised me. So, Gary only is worried about me, basically. He knows that I know that he's tight, so that means that I'll be giving him credit for a strong hand. As such, his steal is more likely to succeed. At this level of online poker, you see these "squeeze plays" fairly commonly. (The name comes from the fact that the original raiser is squeezed between the re-raiser--Gary--and the original caller--Dave--and often ends up folding the best hand of the 3.)

So, back to our original task. What does Gary have? We can't know exactly, so we want to give him a range. Using the above thought process, let's say he has AA, KK, QQ, JJ, or AK. So, how does our hand (KK) stack up against that range? This is a very important part of poker that often gets overlooked. Every novice who watches ESPN knows that AA is 80% to win against KK, or that AK is 30% to win against KK. But memorizing these percentages does very little for you unless you can see your opponent's hole cards. Luckily, there's free software floating around that allows you to calculate your equity (equity just means % to win, essentially) against a range of hands. KK has 62.6% equity against the above range (don't forget that there are more possible combinations of AK than of AA). 62.6 is pretty good for us. If someone offered to flip a coin against you for $400 and your side of the coin was promised to show up nearly 63% of the time, you'd eagerly accept that bet. (Well, unless you're extremely risk averse like my boy Saliya, or if you're working with a limited bankroll, etc.)

So, we're happy to play for stacks. For reasons that would bore you (and require pages of explanation), the best way to proceed is to re-raise (as opposed to calling).

Hank: folds
Billy: raises $48 to $78

We want Dave to go all-in, because we're confident we're beating Dave. If he folds, it's okay but not ideal.

Dave: folds

Damn. Oh, well. We still have Gary. We wouldn't mind a fold from Gary, because that'd allow us to win $38 (the amount of money in the pot that wasn't originally mine) 100% of the time, as opposed to winning $208 (Gary's $200, the big blind's $2, and Dave's $6) 63% of the time. Still, .63 * 208 is greater than $38, so we'd rather see a reraise all in (assuming he'd play JJ the same way he'd play AA...if he'd fold anything but AA in this spot, we'd obviously rather see a fold).

Gary: raises $122 to $200 and is all-in

Sweet.

Billy: calls $122 and is all-in

We've done our job...we've gotten it in good (ie, as a favorite). Now it's in the hands of the poker gods.

*** FLOP *** [Jd 7h Td]

Okay, that's not a great flop. JJ is crushing us now, obviously. QQ is still in big trouble. KK is freerolling. Freerolling means that you can't lose the pot, but you can still win it. In this case, if Gary has KK, he and I are gonna chop (split the pot) unless he goes running diamonds (if the next two cards are diamonds), because that'd give him a diamond flush (we know he has the Kd because we don't). If he has AA, we're still in big trouble. If he has AK, the most likely hand he could have, he has 7 cards that'll win him the pot (4 Q's for a straight, 3 A's for a better pair), giving him approximately a 30% chance to win. Of course, he could also have a diamond (or two), which would improve his odds.

So, what's our equity at this point? 50.2%. We're officially coinflipping for $400, boys and girls.

*** TURN *** [Jd 7h Td] [7d]

Ugh, a 3rd diamond. This doesn't immediately change anything unless he has AdKd, but the general rule is that if a card doesn't help you, then it hurts you. If Gary has QsQd, he now has 10 cards that'll win for him (8 diamonds and 2 Q's). If he has KK, he has about a 20% chance to scoop the pot (take it all) and I have a 0% chance to scoop. Worse, if Gary has AK with a diamond, he has 14 ways to win, giving him a 32% chance to win.

Our overall equity (against his range, that is)? 47.1%. Now we're slightly worse than a coinflip. We don't want to see an ace, and we definitely don't want to see a diamond (unless it's the Kd, which gives us a nearly unbeatable full house).

*** RIVER *** [Jd 7h Td 7d] [Ad]

Worst card possible. We're now losing to AK. We're losing to KK. We're losing to any QQ that has the Qd. We're losing to JJ. FUCK!

Our equity? 15.8%. So, the only way we can possibly win (assuming our range is accurate) is if Gary has QsQc or QhQs or QhQc. 3 combinations out of, well, a lot. Kiss that money goodbye.

*** SHOW DOWN ***
Gary: shows [Qc Qs] (two pair, Queens and Sevens)

Hallelujah!

Billy: shows [Kc Kh] (two pair, Kings and Sevens)
Billy collected $405 from pot
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $408 | Rake $3
Board [Jd 7h Td 7d Ad]
Seat 1: Aaron folded before Flop (didn't bet)
Seat 2: Billy showed [Kc Kh] and won ($405) with two pair, Kings and Sevens
Seat 3: Carl folded before Flop (didn't bet)
Seat 4: Dave folded before Flop
Seat 5: Eddie folded before Flop (didn't bet)
Seat 6: Frank (button) folded before Flop (didn't bet)
Seat 8: Gary (small blind) showed [Qc Qs] and lost with two pair, Queens and Sevens
Seat 9: Hank (big blind) folded before Flop

So, we escaped. Phew. The discussion of equity throughout the hand is a bit misleading. Don't think that, just because our equity was junk by the end of the hand, that we played the hand poorly. When the money went in, we had sufficient equity to feel good about our play. This is the only metric that matters. Also, this hand discussion was a bit academic; my toughest opponents and I think like that throughout the games, undoubtedly, but it's an unwritten rule that a player will never fold KK in that situation. So, this specific situation required little thought on my part. Still, I wanted to go through a bit of discussion because I'm always eager to take the opportunity to defend poker as a game of skill.

*It goes without saying that this isn't my personal graph. The X-axis, by the way, is the number of hands played. Poor Grimstarr...rumor has it that he lost $200k "coinflipping". That is, he and an opponent both agreed to go all-in regardless of their cards. The result of this agreement is that you have 50% equity (assuming your opponent doesn't renege), because your cards and your opponent's cards are random; as a result, you have a veritable coinflip. Players sometimes flip to get unstuck. If someone lost $1000 playing poker, for instance, he might ask an opponent he trusts to flip him for $1000. Poker players are weird like that about money; at the end of the day, you're either up, even, or stuck. If you're stuck, it doesn't matter how stuck you are, so you might as well try to get back to even, assuming your attempt is at least neutral in terms of your expected value.

Miscellanea

2009-01-09T17:52:00.000-08:00

Lest you think this blog will be a constant bombardment of heavy questions with no substantive answers, here's just a smattering of random links, etc. (Wow, how pompous did that last sentence sound?)

First, my buddy Kyle recently posted a link related to the debate over the merits of a universal health care system. The article itself is very readable and identifies a unique concern that some opponents of nationalization may echo. I really enjoyed this writing, which isn't surprising considering Kyle and I are similar in many ways...except he goes to a better school, has a girlfriend, owns a car, and has locks of spun gold.

Second, my high school classmate, good friend, and resident atheist Ryan Krause authored an interesting take on The Dark Knight, a movie about some superhero and his archnemesis that one or two of y'all may have heard a bit about. I'm not linking this because he's my friend; it's a great article that's well worth reading.

Word of the Day: Exoculate. You can probably derive the meaning from its roots (e.g. "exonerate" is "to remove the onus", or, to free from blame). Still not sure? Let's just say that it'd be a handy word to have at your disposal when watching Kill Bill Volume 2.

Finally, a deep thought: How cool would it be if Greg House were on Lost instead of Jack? Inter-network crossover for sweeps season, perhaps?

Should Jesse White Sign?

2009-01-07T20:38:00.000-08:00

Those who have been following the perpetual scandal that is Illinois politics have heard Hot Rod Blagojevich has recently appointed Roland Burris to former Senator Obama's vacated seat. The U.S. Senate has so far refused to seat Mr. Burris, likely because they have no desire to associate themselves with the corruption emanating from Springfield. Hey, no problem...who could blame 'em? It's unclear whether the Senate has the right to refuse to seat a legitimate appointment made by a legitimate governor, but this topic has been kicked around many times that it's no longer groundbreaking. (If you're interested, though, I like Steve Chapman's take.)

What interests me is the part of this story that relates to Jesse White, the Secretary of State in Illinois (if you've been to an Illinois DMV recently, you've undoubtedly seen pictures of Mr. White). As at least partial justification for refusing to seat Mr. Burris, the Senate points to Mr. White's refusal to sign the official appointment given to him by Governor Blagojevich. Mr. White declines to sign because of the "moral issue" inherent in (quite literally) endorsing the action of a man who, while not convicted, has certainly done some wrong (I could make a haircut joke here, but Chicagoans have been hearing 'em for so long that they're cliche).

For our purposes, let's assume that Jesse White's refusal to sign is actually an obstacle in Mr. Burris' path to Washington--Mr. White himself claims that his signature is not necessary for Burris to be seated. What should Mr. White do? On the one hand, he has a legal obligation to sign the appointment. On the other, his morals tell him not to. His refusal functions as a de facto veto of a lawful gubernatorial action, and surely the Secretary of State has no veto power. Which should triumph, the legal duty or the moral duty? Where, if anywhere, is he getting this moral obligation? Should there be a law higher than, well, the law?

Unfortunately, I have more questions than I have answers for this one, so hopefully y'all can provide some insight. Thinking out loud here, I'm assuming that the Secretary of State takes an oath to uphold the laws of the Illinois constitution. He's subverting the constitution, so isn't he breaking that oath? On the other hand, one could argue that oaths and similar promises are made with the implicit understanding that, in a conflict between keeping one's promise and defending one's own morality, the morality interest will always prevail. When you promise to pick someone up at the airport, have you broken that promise in a morally wrong way if the only possible way to pick him up is to steal a car? (Let's say your own car broke down.)

I wish I had a conclusion that gave all the answers, but I'm pretty stumped myself. I wish I could start this page off with a discussion that resolved itself a bit more definitively, but the ongoing drama in D.C. won't be Page One material for long. I guess I'm sacrificing completeness for topicality.

_____________

and now for something completely unrelated...

If you're looking for a good rap song, check this out. The beat samples Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing", if I'm not mistaken. Like it enough? Download it here, then send me the mp3 because I don't have a way to unzip files.

The Obligatory Introduction

2009-01-07T02:17:00.000-08:00

Let's keep this short, because who really likes introductions? Sure, we all enjoyed those days in high school where, instead of getting to work on the Chain Rule, we played Icebreakers or described our winter breaks (to the very people with whom we spent those December nights). But really, don't we look back fondly on those times simply because we dreaded getting back to work in earnest? Were you really paying attention when that kid in the corner named his three favorite movies? Unlike school, you theoretically want to be reading this blog, so (theoretically) an introduction that fails to relate to the theme of the blog is little more than an obstacle. Or are we reading too much into this whole thing?

So much for keeping it short.

Anyways, I've started this blog for a few reasons. One, I have some ideas and knowledge that (I feel) deserves an outlet and can't be adequately expressed in conversation with peers. Certain concepts simply aren't conducive to a coffeeshop discussion, where you're forced to shout over the Bob Dylan bootleg playing in the background and friends stray frustratingly far from the aspect of the topic that most interests you. Two, I've met a lot of intelligent people over the years, but not all of them know each other. Ideally, my buddies from high school will be arguing (respectfully) with my friends from UT. I've avoided detailing what exactly will come up in these posts, because I myself don't have much of a clue. I'd love to have a healthy share of serious posts concerning morality and politics, but who knows. I'll almost certainly explore less significant areas, such as college football and poker. I may even throw in a "life update" just in case Allie Presutti is reading (whassup Allie P), but those will be infrequent. If you ask me, life updates must be personal in order to be sufficiently compelling even for a lowly blog, and I'm too private a person to go into that much detail.

Finally, I've started this blog as a way to keep myself from being too one-dimensional. Law school basically consumed me last semester; I didn't neglect family or friends, but I sacrificed other intellectual pursuits. I'm no Renaissance Man, but it would be nice to read something that didn't require Black's Law by my side. Maybe having this blog will motivate me to expand my mind, if only so that I can have something interesting to discuss.

A few quick things: this page will not be updated routinely. I'll post only when I have something that's post-worthy. At the start, it'll be easy to come up with decent content, but as I become more entrenched in my courses, I'll likely have fewer ideas for posts.

Since I'll be talking little about myself in future entries, let me just get the basics out of the way here (on the off chance that someone who doesn't know me finds this page worthwhile). I'm a 21 year old male law student at the University of Texas Law School. I've lived in the suburbs of Chicago my entire life (up until August 2008) and spent my undergrad time at Northwestern University in Evanston. True Story: My freshman dorm was on the same street as my first childhood house. I love sports and card games, and I'll probably end up talking more about poker than you care to read...good thing it's my blog, haha. I enjoy law school but have no burning desire to become a lawyer. I'm trying to reconcile the Objectivist philosophies that Ayn Rand espouses with my Catholic values and my intangible attraction to the Kant that I've been exposed to over the years. I know very little about the great thinkers, and the little I do know is certainly simplistic and possibly inaccurate. Politically, I'm best described as libertarian, but that doesn't mean I'm a Libertarian. I can't think of much else about me that will relate to this blog, so I'll stop.

Also, if you're wondering where the title originated: Running it Twice is something that poker players do in order to minimize variance without influencing the players' expected value.* Think of it this way: if you and I were to flip a coin for $1000, to "run it twice" would mean that we'd flip the coin twice, each time for $500. Poker players apply that to their cash games from time to time. Anyways, I chose "Running It Twice" as my blog title because almost every other character string seemed to be claimed and because I'm hoping in part to take some law school concepts and run them past people who chose instead to contribute positively to society. Two different perspectives = "Running it Twice".

I sincerely hope you enjoy reading what I write. I encourage you to comment, especially on the posts that cover weightier topics.

*Admittedly, running it twice may nominally influence the EV of the hand in ways that might be discussed in a later post. I figured that an in-depth treatment of this would appeal to, oh, 1% of the readers out there, so I'm saving it until I've accrued more credit.