Of Snickers and snickering | VailDaily.com

Of Snickers and snickering

Randy Wyrick

Notes, quotes and brain candy from Tuesday’s Kobe Khronicles:

– Candy Correction: Yesterday’s Vail Daily reported that one of the Suburbans employed to carry Kobe and company around our spiral arm of the universe was dispatched to the front door of the courthouse to deliver a candy bar. The story doesn’t go far enough, we’ve learned. That Suburban driver diligently delivered a Red Bull and two candy bars – Hershey’s, no almonds.

That’s the kind of hard-hitting investigative reporting we know you’ve come to expect.

– Vending, Vidi, Vici, “I Came, I Saw, I Ate the Snickers:” Most journalists are created equal, or at least in covering this case they have most of the same information. However, neither Columbia University nor the University of Missouri at Columbia created equal journalists. Boredom and inactivity did.

One or two young wags hanging in the courthouse halls these past couple of days could be heard early Monday morning discussing the virtues of their alma maters. In a group like this, there are more degrees than Fahrenheit and yours isn’t the most impressive. It’s a little like trying to be the richest person in Vail – you can’t do that, either.

Less than 30 seconds later, as the first witnesses were led into the courtroom and the media were locked out and left in the hall, it became painfully obvious that most important skill we’d need for the next couple days would be the ability to metabolize vending machine food.

– Armani Army: A couple of gentlemen barristers in the inner sanctum of Kobeland (the courtroom) were seen Monday in sports jackets instead of the requisite suit. By Tuesday, all was right with the universe and everything was as it should be, and it became obvious that Armani was the official uniform provider for Team Kobe.

– Envy this: As we watch the dozens of people file in and out of the courtroom, most subpoenaed by the defense, we have to admit we feel a little left out. And that’s why we’re trying to figure out how to work the phrase, “subpoena envy” into a story.

– Doin’ the Deadly … : About the only item for which any reporter has been left wanting was a New York Times crossword puzzle. One guy can fill it out in less time than it takes the bailiff to say, “Do you swear to tell the truth …,” which none of us have actually heard this week because the hearings are all closed. Still, as we watch the guy go at it – with a pen, no less – we commit at least two of the seven deadly sins, jealousy and envy, although we’re not talking subpoena envy.

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