Update on the Aggies’ 12th Man trademark litigation

A&M 12th-man.jpegEarlier posts here and here reported on developments in Texas A&M University’s lawsuit this week against the Super Bowl XL-bound Seattle Seahawks to enjoin the Seahawks from infringing on A&M’s 12th Man trademark. The latest development is that the Seahawks have removed the lawsuit from the Aggies’ homefield of Brazos County District Court to the reasonably neutral venue of federal court in Houston.
Not wanting to appear heavy-handed, A&M released the following statement to the media over the controversy:

“Texas A&M University certainly has no ill will towards the Seattle Seahawks; in fact we have Aggies on the team and coaching staff and we congratulate them on their splendid season leading up to Sunday’s Super Bowl. However, we have the responsibility and legal obligation to protect the university’s trademarks, which in this instance is the 12th Man. The 12th Man is one of our most treasured traditions, recognized by most as one of the most compelling in collegiate athletics. We have asked the Seahawks’ management to cease and desist promoting use of the 12th Man trademark. Such letters were submitted in 2004 and 2005 requesting their compliance, but our requests have not been honored. . . ”
“Texas A&M has done everything in its power over the last 2 years to bring quiet closure to this situation. Our hope is that the Seahawks’ organization will recognize our federal trademark.”
“Finally, just for the record, A&M sincerely hopes that the Steelers beat the hell out of the Seahawks in the Super Bowl on Sunday.”

O.K., I confess. I added that last paragraph. ;^)

Double whammy for the Great White Hunter

mcbirney.jpgAmidst the hubbub of the Lay-Skilling trial, it’s a bit 1980’s-esque to harken back to the days of the Savings & Loan debacle. Nevertheless, this interesting DOJ press release caught my eye earlier in the week because it deals with one of the more colorful characters of that bygone era, Edwin T. McBirney, III, the former chairman and CEO of Sunbelt Savings. Sunbelt bit the dust during the shakeout of the S&L’s during the late 1980’s and early 90’s, and the federal government pegged the cost of Sunbelt’s demise at about $1.2 billion.
At any rate, McBirney lived large during the go-go days of Sunbelt. Legend has it that, at one of McBirney’s numerous parties, hundreds of Sunbelt’s customers and friends feasted on lion, antelope and other exotic game while two obese disco singers “entertained” by serenading the guests with “Two Tons of Fun.” At another affair with an African safari theme, McBirney dressed up as the Great White Hunter while guests ate water buffalo ribs and watched a magician make a live elephant vanish.
However, by 1990, the fun had ceased as McBirney pleaded guilty to stealing $7.5 million from Sunbelt in the years before its liquidation and, as part of his 15-year plea deal, McBirney agreed to pay the money back to the federal government. After chirping like a prosecution canary against another savings and loan executive, McBirney’s sentence was eventually reduced to five years and, in 1996, he was released on five years’ probation.
Alas, it seems as if McBirney had a difficult time reconciling his taste for living with his $7.5 million restitution obligation. While in prison, McBirney set up a trust to mask his post-prison earnings, so — upon his release from prison — McBirney was able to get by on as little as $50,000 a year despite the fact that he continued to enjoy a chauffeur-driven limousine, a $600,000 home in North Dallas and expensive meals in trendy restaurants. In short, McBirney never met an expense that couldn’t be written off as a cost of doing trust business.
Well, unfortunately for McBirney, somebody with the federal government finally noticed and, this past Tuesday, the 53-year old McBirney was found guilty on 27 counts of fraud, money laundering and lying to federal authorities about his true income while on probation for his previous conviction. As a result, McBirney now faces another 20 years in the pokey and the forfeiture of $2 million in cash and assets from the trust.
I don’t know about you, but I’m going to miss that guy. ;^)

The market for class action business fraud lawsuits

Although the market for earnings restatements is robust (over 1,200 last year alone), the NY Times Steve Labaton reports that the market for lawsuits based on those restatements is not:

For all of the handwringing in some corners of Washington and in corporate America about vexatious litigation, it turns out that you can count last year’s number of investor class-action lawsuits against accounting firms on one hand.
A mere five cases were filed, according to the tally produced each year by Prof. Joseph A. Grundfest of Stanford Law School, a former commissioner at the Securities and Exchange Commission. The report found a sharp decline in the overall number of securities fraud class actions, as well as a marked reduction in the investor losses claimed by the suits. And it found that the Ninth Circuit, which includes California, a traditional haven for lawsuits because of the large number of technology start-ups, has been “losing its prominence.”
What’s going on?
Professor Grundfest, who has often been critical of what he sees as baseless shareholder litigation, has two explanations. The lawsuits related to the bursting of the market bubble beginning in 2000 are now largely over.
“The pig may have moved through the python,” he said.

The article goes on to note other chilling effects on the class action business fraud lawsuit, such as increasingly pro-business jurists, SOX (not sure about that one), the PSLRA, and the Supreme Court’s Dura decision.

Lay-Skilling, Week One

So, week one of the Lay-Skilling trial is in the books. Let’s review what we’ve learned.

U.S. District Judge Sim Lake handles matters faster than the prosecutors and the defense attorneys do.

Opening arguments are too long.

The key evidentiary issue in the trial has not yet been addressed, but another court expressed interest in the issue.

Former Enron investor relations chief Mark Koenig thinks that he and Messrs. Lay and Skilling misled investors about Enron’s financial condition, but — over five years after doing so — he still cannot explain why he did it.

Sheila Jackson Lee knows where the cameras are (don’t miss Slampo’s comments on SJL), and could one or more of the trial participants end up on What Not to Wear?

As is usually the case, it’s difficult, if not downright impossible, to predict what effect all of this is having on the jurors.

But the prosecution has to be concerned about the glacial pace of the trial. The prosecution lost a similar trial last year after putting the jury to sleep during long stretches of the Enron Broadband trial.

Anticipating such problems in Lay-Skilling, the prosecution promised the jurors during opening argument that the trial would be about lying and not about boring financial matters.

Then, with its first witness, the prosecution proceeded to take a good part of the first two days of testimony going over boring financial matters, resulting in the prosecution failing to finish its direct examination of that first witness before the week concluded.

That is not the way to win friends on a jury.

This is not meant as a criticism of the Task Force prosecutors. Indeed, I suspect that they are among the best in the Justice Department for handling such trials.

Rather, this type of chloroforming slog is the inevitable result of criminalizing what amount to business judgments over which people can reasonably differ.

Justice would be much better served with the prosecution taking a third of the time that it took with Koenig and, instead, bringing to the witness stand every top-level former Enron executive to testify about how Enron’s management actually evaluated Enron’s finances and reported them to the public.

But if that were to occur, then the prosecution might lose the trial.

So, the prosecution effectively prevents those potentially more truth-revealing witnesses from testifying and spends an inordinate amount of time with a witness such as Koenig, who wasn’t even involved in the mechanics of how Enron’s management evaluated its finances.

As a result, rather than being allowed to handle the messy process of sorting out the truth, the jury gets a prosecution script of what it thinks the truth should be.

As we saw in the Enron Broadband trial, sometimes juries have a way of figuring such things out.