Losing your first trial

I was lucky to be able to try my first case very early in my career -- while I was only in my third year of practice, unbelievably, now almost 35 years ago! It was a business case -- a breach of contract bench trial in San Diego County Superior Court. I was up against two older, much more experienced attorneys. But I was confident that I was presenting a good case and would represent my client well in court.

I had worked hard, I was ready to go, fully prepped, and engaged trial mode for the first time in my career. I couldn't lose! When I Ieft the office early that morning to go to court, two senior firm partners, my bosses, veteran litigators Dick Lynn and Jim Mehalick, were in the small reception area of our firm to see me off. Dick, with a big smile on his face, said -- and I will never forget this -- "if you lose, don't come back!" Jim smiled. Funny, I thought. Well, kinda. They both wished me good luck, gave me a few last-minute pointers, and off I went.

I represented the plaintiff. The trial started and I gave my opening statement, put up my witnesses, presented relevant evidence, confidently closed my case and left my hopes and dreams in the hands of the judge. I was proud of my preparation and how I litigated the case, and so when I found out motions for judgment were granted to both defendants, I had not only lost my first case, but I was also lost.

And devastated. How could this have happened? Had I picked the wrong career? What will the client do -- sue me? What will my bosses do? Maybe they weren't kidding, will they let me back in the office? My wife Jill and I had a baby on the way, and a mortgage on our brand-new house. I fretted about whether or not I would be able to pay the bills. Would I need to return to a career in marine biology?

I recognize this is a very silly train of thought, but when you lose your first trial, it's hard to imagine that there are a career's worth of wins in the future. But I was a young attorney and I lost my first trial; a case I knew I couldn't lose. I was dumbfounded.

The next day, I sullenly went back to my firm to face my bosses. Needless to say, they let me back in the office. We reviewed the trial, the result and our remedies. They were encouraging, supportive and thoughtful in their questions and their feedback. They explained a simple concept to me that every trial lawyer should know inherently, but that I now impart on some of the newer attorneys I mentor:

You can't win them all, and you won't.

Often times, you will lose cases you just knew that you would win and win some of the cases that you were absolutely sure that you would lose.

I felt supported. They offered me great advice -- gently -- and helped me right my ship and reestablish my center of gravity. They taught me some lessons I needed to learn, and then moved on swiftly, putting me right back to work and demonstrating that the loss didn't mean that I was no longer trusted to do a good job. The ending of this particular story is that we appealed, won, and settled the case. But more importantly, I learned so much about remaining civil and professional, remaining calm and confident when facing more senior attorneys, and that we are all going to lose -- it's how you handle the loss that determine your character and how others will perceive you as an attorney.

When I mentor younger attorneys, I often share this story because I know they can relate to the despair I experienced then, and I also want to share stories of the successes I have had since then. I advise them that their hard work and perseverance will pay off, perhaps not in every case, but throughout the course of their careers. And I remind them that while every loss will be a gut punch, every win will be all the more exhilarating.