While my team did not make state finals this year, they were one of the closest, hardest working teams I have ever had.
If there is one skill that all mock trial students, and a fair number of actual attorneys could use improvement on it is
the art of direct examination. When you question your own witness, the witness is supposed to be the star. He or she tells a story and you just moderate.
It might be just that simple if 90% of people didn't lose their ever loving mind the minute they take the stand! It's understandable I guess. Just imagine being thrust into an extemporaneous speaking contest where first prize is everything you want in life, and second prize is a condolence card and a $20,000 attorney bill. I'm exaggerating, of course, but I've come to believe that is the magnitude of stress people sometimes feel when taking the stand.
Hence, my simple role as moderator inevitably becomes the conversational equivalent of that old boardgame "Operation," where you try to reach your target by threading a tiny pair of tweezers through and even tinier, oddly shaped hole without touching the electrified perimeter.
Hence, my simple role as moderator inevitably becomes the conversational equivalent of that old boardgame "Operation," where you try to reach your target by threading a tiny pair of tweezers through and even tinier, oddly shaped hole without touching the electrified perimeter.
In this case, my perimeter is the rules of evidence, which force me to ask only open ended, non-leading questions that do not suggest their own answer in form or content.
That's where Pyramid comes in. For those of you old enough to remember, the game is played by two-member teams; one player can see the answer (usually some category of persons, places, or things) and has to come up with words or phrases that will prompt the other player to correctly guess the answer.
That's where Pyramid comes in. For those of you old enough to remember, the game is played by two-member teams; one player can see the answer (usually some category of persons, places, or things) and has to come up with words or phrases that will prompt the other player to correctly guess the answer.
So, for example, if the answer is "Things Richard Nixon might say," a good clue might be "I'm not a crook!"
The trick is describing the secret answer in the clearest, most succinct way without actually repeating any of its key terms.
On $25,000 Pyramid, one player was always a celebrity guest, and some of them took the game quite seriously.
The greatest of these in my humble opinion was Dick Cavett. For those who may not remember, Dick Cavett hosted a late night talkshow in the 1970s and had bit parts in film and TV over the years. He has a dry, professorial affect to his speaking voice. Something about it makes it impossible not to absorb each syllable that he utters.
The greatest of these in my humble opinion was Dick Cavett. For those who may not remember, Dick Cavett hosted a late night talkshow in the 1970s and had bit parts in film and TV over the years. He has a dry, professorial affect to his speaking voice. Something about it makes it impossible not to absorb each syllable that he utters.
If the category was, "things that are poisoned," he would immediately say, "Snow White's Apple." Whereas it took me 15 staring at my keyboard to think of that one on my own!
Just as an exercise, try having a conversation sometime with an old friend where you try and get them to tell you a story you've heard many times before, only you can't tell them what story you want to hear - you have to prompt them using only questions that begin with, "who, when, what, why, and how." You'll probably find it a huge pain in the ass, which is why you should just hire me to do it for you!