Imagine the visceral thrill that runs through you when you win. The adrenaline courses through your body, your heart rate is up, the excitement palpitates you from head to toe. You exude confidence the way Marilyn Monroe exudes sex. You can’t be stopped. You can do no wrong. You are on top of the world.
There is nothing like the sensation of winning. In litigation, winning (and losing) comes with the territory. You go to court on a motion that you prepared. The partner has made you rehearse your oral argument numerous times. It’s a 50-50 toss-up. Opposing counsel is a much more experienced lawyer than you. Unlike some oral arguments, where the outcome is essentially predetermined, this one really counts. You arrive in court with your client in tow. The client’s presence just ratchets up the pressure. A drop of sweat trickles down your forehead. The judge grills both sides, but you are well-prepared and have anticipated all the possible arguments. You sense that opposing counsel is on the defensive. You go for the kill. The judge rules from the bench, grants your motion, and adds sanctions on the other side for good measure. Victory! Your client is impressed, and you drive back to the office with the top down, the radio blaring, and your hair on fire. You’re driving at 100 mph but it feels like 60. But it doesn’t matter. No cop will pull you over today. For a moment, you are unstoppable.
Corporate lawyers get the same rush doing a deal over a negotiating table. You draft a contract, putting all these subtle “hooks” into the document. These hooks are like buried land mines, and if the other side doesn’t catch them all, they might just blow up. And that’s what happens. Opposing counsel misses one of these hooks, fails to object or revise some subtle language, and all of a sudden, $40 M passes from one side of the table to the other. Completely silent. Completely unknown to one side. But to the lawyer who devised the trap? On the inside, she’s so psyched that she’s bouncing from wall to wall. On. Top. Of. The. World.
Lawyers have told me that the sense of winning is like a drug. Once you feel it, you want more. You love it, crave the feeling, and you’ll do anything to get it back. The darker side of this, of course, is: “At what cost?”
