Years ago when I was a young prosecutor my boss — NYC's Special Prosecutor, the late Maurice H. Nadjari — was prosecuting the Queens District Attorney, Thomas J. Mackell, on an important corruption indictment being tried in a large ceremonial courtroom in Queens County. Mackell was extremely popular in "his" county and our office was concerned that that popularity would extend to the courtroom.

I happened to be in the courthouse one day during the lunch break, and ambled down to the courtroom to see the action. Nadjari was at counsel table putting his exhibits together, and I approached to tell him something he wanted to know about another case that I was in the courthouse for.

Judge John M. Murtagh had an unusual regimen of having a court officer seat the jury before he would enter to take the bench. As the jurors were being seated, Nadjari was staring over my shoulder toward the rail that separated the audience from the well of the court: "Who is that guy Mackell is glad-handing at the railing; he looks familiar?" I turned around and, probably with an almost giddy look in my eye, told him "Boss, that's Joe Louis, the Brown Bomber. Wow." I had never seen a hero champion up close.

The skilled and hardball trial lawyer Nadjari, though, immediately knew what was happening. Obvious to Nadjari, Mackell was trying to show the jury that he couldn't be such a bad guy, if after all, the popular ex-champ was there to support and cheer him on. It was as if Mackell had managed to bring Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays to the courthouse to visibly press the flesh.

The handshake seemed to last forever, presumably just to make sure that each juror caught the moment. Was the champ actually Mackell's friend or supporter? Or just a broken down hero short on cash who needed a few bucks and, accordingly, was willing to come to Mackell's aid in his hour of need? (Likely, it was the latter inasmuch as the great Edward Bennett Williams, reportedly, had managed to produce the same Joe Louis to an earlier courtroom where he had been representing Teamster President Jimmy Hoffa. Coincidence?)

Nadjari, though, was outraged! As he was about to approach the Mackell-Louis huddle to put an end to the spectacle — the boss's face was reddening and I feared that he was about to punch Mackell (although wisely not the champ) — Mackell's own gifted lawyer Robert McGuire (later NYC Police Commissioner) saw what was happening for what it was and, to his credit, quickly put an end to it himself.

That was in 1974. Today, one doesn't have to pull off what Mackell was trying to do in the courtroom itself. The media is chock full of online photographers and videos that can paint the picture for jurors willing to be influenced by that kind of thing. And make no mistake, trial participants in the public eye and their lawyers know exactly how to maximize the use of courthouse step microphones to "sell" their case or defense to the jurors, who don't need to be physically present there, as long as they read newspapers or have iPhones.

So, now, Ron Duguay and Sarah Palin. Ron Duguay, if you've ever followed ice hockey, was a great hockey player who had played for the New York Rangers. A hero, for sure, to hockey fans for his great skills. Handsome, and thus a different kind of hero to women — fans or not. His celebrated flowing red hair could be easily seen in the stands. Indeed, Duguay declined to wear the league-required protective helmet — necessary except for the few players who were grandfathered for having played before helmets became compulsory.

Now, though, in his sixties, Duguay was proudly presented by the media as Sarah Palin's boyfriend, main squeeze, beau or dating companion. New Yorkers never knew about that until her defamation trial against The New York Times began this month at Foley Square. And if there has been any question about their relationship until now, the handsome "couple" ostentatiously held hands every day entering and leaving the courthouse.

I must remember that Palin was a plaintiff in a defamation lawsuit against The Times and I theoretically could be next. So I certainly wouldn't suggest that Duguay has been a paid escort designed to be seen on Palin's arm. After all, she's a conservative Alaskan and not particularly popular in New York, and he's a former New York hero potentially capable of transferring his (albeit waning) popularity to her. Sort of like the Joe Louis deal.

Again, the Palin-Duguay relationship is probably totally for real. If it isn't, and recognizing that Duguay's fame is somewhat fleeting, Palin might have been better off with the likes of Aaron Judge or Lin-Manual Miranda. Or even Walt "Clyde" Frazier or Obi Toppin on her arm. Anyway, Palin's lawyers saw it for what it was or wasn't and didn't find the need to stop it.

Remember, somewhat famously, when O.J. Simpson was on trial for murder, Johnnie Cochran's dream team persuaded Judge Ito to have the jurors visit his home in Brentwood — evidently to impress the predominantly Black jury that Simpson was family friendly. Just before the jury visit, Cochran reportedly had photographs of Simpson with his White friends removed from the home and replaced with African art and pictures of Simpson with Blacks, including fellow footballers. Worse, indeed, even if Duguay had been a ruse!

Now that Palin has lost both in the jury's verdict and separately in Judge Rakoff's plan to dismiss anyway, we'll have to see whom she brings to the Supreme Court as the case likely travels in that direction. Maybe Duguay, but also Sean Hannity and Laura Ingraham? Assuming any Supreme Court Justice needs the kind of inspiration that such star power brings, the latter two would work better, no?

Originally published by MEDIUM

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