Two sides. Both battling through statements for the ultimate verdict. Hands clenched into tight fists; bubbling frustration ready to burst through the cracks. Rigid, upright postures; the perfect image of successful professionalism. Determined gazes merged with stern expressions; a recipe for a disastrous counteraction. Who will take the trophy home? Hours of verbal disputing will ultimately tell.
It all mirrors a playing field. A referee dressed in a black, silk gown denoting middle ground. A crowd huddled in the spectator area, separated by a partition from the main encounter. The players warming up mentally for the game of their lives. The managers restlessly turning the screws in their heads in search of their next move. The VAR team carefully processing all the details to reach a concluding judgement. Each one a vital piece of the ultimate clash.
The clock strikes 8:30 a.m. The somber wooden doors finally unbolt their impregnable grasp and monotonously open their arms, signalizing the start of the end. The two opposing parties enter the stoic room, modestly taking their respective places and carefully organizing their slightly creased folders. No words are exchanged as everyone awaits the judge’s opening words. In the blink of an eye, everyone is standing up, dutifully paying their respects to Their Honor.
The moment the trial begins, the energy completely shifts. Pure adrenaline rushes through each and every one’s veins, accompanied by the desire to speak their own truth and be heard. Hours of constant confrontation fuel the feelings of ferocious resolve; hands ceaselessly moving like exploding fireworks. 12 intrigued eyes follow the words back and forth, piecing the puzzle pieces in their head to build up an impartial resolution. Everything happens so swiftly; every fragment of evidence shooting like an arrow from a bow. The only question knocking on everyone’s heads is, when will this overwhelming affair come to an end?
The clock strikes 5:00 p.m. Finally! After such exhausting hours, the jury gathers and renders the awaiting verdict. A sea of emotions crash around the room; hushed chattering bouncing from the wooden walls. The judge cuts the whispering short, assuredly communicating a final judgement. As always, some will leave the room with a beaming bounce in their step, while others will dejectedly drag their feet towards the exit. That is the essence of a court case.
The sound of the gavel reverberates through the courthouse. It is done. No more draining hours of constant lecturing and researching. A decision has been made. The sharp clicking of heels and powerful thud of dress shoes swallows the compelling echo of the judge’s hammer. As everyone briskly leaves their respective stations and immediately congregate towards the somber wooden doors, there is only one thought running through the judge’s head: “And tomorrow, we’ll do this all over again.”