From Quinn Brown to Murtaugh: My Top 10 Mock Trial Performances
My friend Max runs the largest mock trial contest in China. Year after year, I fly out to judge the students and perform alongside other judges in a final showcase trial.
Year after year, he introduces me the same way: the Michael Jordan of mock trial.
I deeply appreciate the compliment. I don’t agree with the description.
When I competed, my focus was on being a team player. I gave up several ‘juicier’ pieces of material, including the cross-examination of the defendant, to make sure we were all performing in a points-optimal way.
I think I was closer to Tim Duncan.
Like Tim, I tried to share the floor and do the little things right in a clean, low-risk version of mock trial. During that time, we made and won three final rounds — the national championship (2011 and 2014) and the Downtown tournament of champions (2012).
Since I’ve graduated, my views of mock trial have changed. I’ve become more risk-tolerant. To keep up with my students, I constantly shift my style.
I go from earnest to aggressive, from sweet to snarky, from serious to playing a folksy “prosecutor from Polk County.”
I think a lot about mentor archetypes from anime who are left in the dust by their more youthful and energetic mentees.
Not me. The day I have nothing left to teach them — the day I can’t demonstrate how I want them to perform — is the day I quit coaching.
When you put all this together, I’m just not MJ. I’m Tim Duncan — or Lebron James, who moved across the country, changed from point forward to center and back, trusts his teammates to score the winning shots, and keeps focusing on helping new franchises.
And just like Lebron, not every one of my finals appearances is equally good.
I tallied up the number of trial advocacy finals and showcase performances I’ve appeared in. I’d like to rank them for you now.
My Points System
Mock trial scores everything out of 10 points. Speaking realistically, none of my performances in these rounds deserve worse than an 8 out of 10 on a typical collegiate ballot. However, to differentiate the okay from the good from the great, I’m applying a modified points system.
I factor in my style/structure/substance, if it feels like I won my ‘exchange’ (for instance, harming the other side’s witness on cross examination or out-arguing my opponent in closings), and how important my contribution was to my sides’ case theory.
10 = the best possible score; I think nearly every judge would also give it a 10; it clearly demonstrates mock trial style, substance, and structure
10- = tallied as a 9.7; I believe it would score a 10 on most judges’ ballots, but I think it isn’t dominant (for instance, it might not have clearly won its ‘exchange’ with the opposing side)
9+ = tallied as a 9.3; I believe it would score a 9 or 10 on most judges’ ballots, but it’s missing something (potentially a more polarizing choice)
9 = nothing wrong with it, but nothing exceptional about it
9- = tallied as a 8.7; most judges would give it a 9, it has higher-level mock trial components, but something about it bothers me
8+ = tallied as an 8.3; I believe it would score a 8 or 9 on most judges’ ballots, but I can clearly point out a missing element of higher-level mock trial
8 = it’s missing a key component of style, substance, or structure, but still won or tied its ‘exchange’
8- = tallied as a 7.7; it’s missing a key component, and I don’t believe it won the ‘exchange’
My Rankings
10: 2016 Gladiator Showcase Round [State v. Jones]
My Score: 7.7
A man allegedly was pressured into making a false accusation by a crooked cop. I played the intimidated witness. The defense hinged on my own character’s shaky credibility, bad memory, and guilty conscience.
I almost forgot about this one. Gladiator is the high school tournament of champions. I’d never seen a round before, so I had no idea how sharp the contestants’ level would be. I walked in only half-memorized, recycling a character I first played in 2011: the Woody Allen–style, nerdy loser type.
It did not go well. A high schooler (who later made two AMTA national finals with Yale) nailed me with a clean impeachment by contradiction. I got a few laughs later on, and managed to defuse the last pockets, but the damage was done. This was my weakest showcase round.
9: 2012 Downtown Tournament of Champions Finals [State v. Dawson]
My Score: 8.3
The prosecution accused the defendant of drinking and driving so recklessly that it was the moral equivalent of murder (if you’re a 2025-2026 college competitor, this might sound familiar).
I played a defense expert in finals (Ashley Norton).
My argument was the breathalyzer test result from the state’s expert was grossly inflated because the machine incorrectly used a uniform “partition ratio,” treating everyone as having the same tolerance for alcoholic drinks when that’s just not how human bodies work.
We completely invented this argument based on two lines in the witness statement.
We had no demonstrative aid and no expert analogy.
It went on for over eight minutes.
I won an exchange on cross-examination about ‘always testifying for the defense’ (I twisted it to mean ‘always testifying in matters involving the flawed breathalyzer’), but was a little too ‘cute’ with the rest of it (at one point, telling my cross-examiner that he was better at math than me — NOT what an expert would say).
I don’t think I was mentioned more than one time in either closing argument. My narrative largely did not matter in the trial.
This scored well (according to an email I found from 2012), but I attribute that to my demeanor and energy. I looked like the ‘good angel’ on the Wolf of Wall Street’s shoulder. There are basic things I tell every novice to do now than I didn’t do in this performance.
Before I put everything on Excel.
I wish I had a recording of this round, but I can’t find it on YouTube. Please enjoy this mock trial music video instead.
8: 2018 Peer Potential Mock Trial Showcase [Calief v. POWA]
My Score: 8.52 (9 open, 8.7 DX, 8.3 DX, 8.3 CX, 8.3 CX)
The family of an adolescent who committed suicide after being released from a private prison that often put him in solitary confinement is now suing the prison for negligence in attending to his wellbeing. (Yeah, this is a really dark case.)
I did a lot this trial — defense opening, two directs, and two crosses. They largely blur together in my memory. Our theory contested direct cause — that the adolescent took his own life because of a childhood trauma unrelated to the imprisonment (yeah, really dark defense).
My defense opening was earnest and forceful, but I messed up the theme a few times.
I introduced something that I now see a lot of students doing — walking sideways across the courtroom to demonstrate how the plaintiff starts at ‘zero’ and has to prove their case is over 50% likely to be true.
My cross of the victim’s mother was slow, soft, and unremarkable. My cross of a character witness had one funny moment where I sincerely misunderstood her answer, but fizzled near the end.
My directs were fine -- spotlight on the witness, nothing memorable. I won and lost objections at an equal rate.
Most importantly, I’m not convinced that our narrative won the trial.
By the end of the P rebuttal, I was convinced that, even if the victim had childhood trauma, his time in the private prison pushed him over the edge.
WATCH THE 2018 VIDEO HERE.
7: 2014 American Mock Trial Association Finals [State v. Bowman]
SCORE: 8.66 (9 closing, 8.7 CX, 8.3 DX)
An amusement park employee robbed the ticket booth and escaped through an indoor rollercoaster ride in the panic and confusion. The ride’s operator is being charged as the co-conspirator for turning out the ride’s lights and helping the thief escape.
Since this was the final round of my senior year, it’s easy to romanticize it. I am often told my closing rhetoric has been repeatedly copied — “defendants make plans, people make mistakes,” and my commentary on how often the prosecution called her “defendant.” (Daniel Stern even adapted that move in the 2016 Yale championship round.)
But there are a lot of issues here. First, the style of delivery is sedate and cautious compared to my normal swagger. Second, I focus too much on essential elements and reasonable doubt instead of advancing the more powerful narrative of police bias and investigator overreach. Third, my direct doesn’t push the ball forward because I don’t tie it into closing. Fourth, I skip some standard procedural stuff, like letting the record reflect when I played with demonstratives. Fifth, I misphrased a couple of questions on cross.
This is still a good performance. I come across as earnest and sincere. I had complete control of the opposing witness on cross. It just could have been more integrated.
I’m proud of what my team accomplished here. I felt great about it at the time, no matter what the haters said. (We even have a video of us reacting to mean tweets on the livestream.) But I don’t think this is the peak of mock trial.
6: 2017 Peer Potential Mock Trial Showcase [State v. Dawson]
SCORE: 8.78 (9.7 wit, 9 DX, 8.7 open, 7.7 CX)
This was a rare opportunity — a chance to go back and re-try the Dawson case. It was also the first Peer Potential showcase round in China. The league was much weaker in terms of AMTA norms, so we wanted to show something really fun.
Because there weren’t many judges available for the showcase, I pulled double duty as both witness and attorney. As a witness, I played one of my favorite characters ever: Jordan James, the bartender who swore the defendant wasn’t too drunk to drive. I gave him an Eastern European, jovial vibe — strong character voice, charming presence, pre-empting every cross point, consistent all the way through. If I had nailed that as a sophomore competitor, I think I would have won awards everywhere.
As an attorney, it was more of a mixed bag. My opening — now somewhat YouTube-famous among my students — had a fun moment where I knelt down and rose up to demonstrate the burden of proof. That move has been copied a lot since. But the same problem from the 2014 final showed up here: I had an awesome police bias narrative, and I diluted it into generic reasonable doubt instead of full-on storytelling.
My direct worked better. I established that the police were lying about their investigation and floated the idea that the defendant swerved his car to avoid a dog in the road. I used the full courtroom space. On cross, though, I questioned my own “wife.” And instead of hammering police bias, I fell back on a bland reasonable doubt theme. It just wasn’t that compelling, and it took too long. I’d much rather have been teamed up with Jessica than opposing her.
5: 2019 Peer Potential Mock Trial Showcase [Davis v. Happyland]
SCORE: 8.9 (10 DX, 8.7 close, 8 CX)
I first hit mock trial notoriety for playing a toymaker, Quinn Brown, in the 2011 national championship. The case was brutal: a parent suing a toy company after their child ate “Princess Beads” and died.
The plaintiff’s story was that the beads used a dangerous chemical that turned toxic when wet, and the company never warned families. The defense countered that they gave appropriate warnings, used other chemicals to prevent swallowing, and that the child’s death could be explained by other causes — teething, respiratory issues, even other materials in the house. Lots of angles. A great case.
This was my third showcase. I was plaintiff closing attorney. My favorite moment came on direct of my “wife.” Jessica and I memorized the grieving-parent direct we’d seen from NYU in the actual 2011 finals, then adapted it for a mother instead of a father. She crushed it. Tears and all. I knew the defense would hand her tissues on cross. I didn’t. That became a power move at the end of direct.
From there, I rode the momentum to shut down a lot of cross. I liked that stretch a lot.
My own cross wasn’t as strong. I lost a major objection early. I didn’t quite hit the right tone with a likable witness, and I turned them into a quasi-defendant instead of undercutting softly. My closing had highlights — a Vince Bugliosi reference, some O.J. callbacks — but the defense theory landed harder. They used misstatements from our expert to contest direct cause convincingly. By the end of trial, I don’t think we met that burden.
Still, I had fun with the performance side. Tossing the beads into the trash as a visual callback to moments from my freshman year. A little showmanship never hurts.
WATCH THE 2019 VIDEO HERE.
4: 2011 American Mock Trial Association Finals [Davis V. Happyland]
SCORE: 9
And here’s the final round I’m probably best known for. As I’ve said before, I need to emphasize how lucky I was to even be in this round. I had quit mock trial for mental health reasons partway through my freshman year. I came back as a backup witness on the B team — which then qualified for nationals, made finals, and won. Total Cinderella story.
This witness, Quinn Brown the toymaker, is well liked, and for good reason. I warmed the audience up just by walking to the stand. I had several well-timed jokes that fit the nerdy toymaker persona. I shifted tone and enthusiasm as my attorney played the straight man. I closed on a punchline that landed.
The cross is tougher to grade. Judges say I “went up” on cross, and it’s true my demeanor helped defuse the open-ended attacks. But there’s a noticeable shift as the attorney got aggressive — I went from warm to defensive. Watch the start and end of the cross on mute, and it feels like two different characters. I wish I’d kept the consistency.
Still. I’m proud of Quinn Brown. And grateful to my freshman-year program for taking a chance on a kid who needed it.
3: 2024 Peer Potential Mock Trial Showcase [State v. Riggs]
SCORE: 9.3 (10 witness, 9.7 CX, 9 Opening, 8.7 direct)
One of my favorite AMTA cases in recent years: State v. Riggs. The prosecution theory was that the defendant — a corrupt cop — conspired with a corrupt partner and a shady lab tech to skim seized drugs and resell them. Very The Wire.
After my UCLA team took 2nd at the 2022 championship, we agreed that to win we’d need a sniper theory. Forget the sprawling months-long conspiracy. Just zoom in on a single incident where the cops bullied an eyewitness into acting as their drug mule. That move made half the defense case irrelevant. We used this showcase to prove it.
My opening did exactly that. I told the story of how the old woman eyewitness was bullied into carrying drugs, which were then stolen by the defendant and his crew. It was clear, I used the space well, but my “burden” section dragged.
On direct, I examined the eyewitness, played as a kind older woman. The story tracked, until I overshot on redirect. I asked my co-counsel for the number of questions the defense had asked about our theory. I expected “zero.” He misunderstood and gave the wrong number. The direct ended on a weird anticlimax. That was on me.
Cross was stronger. I sparred with a character witness, won a major objection battle that locked in our drug-mule theory, and nailed a recross with an impeachment threat — all while keeping it light and likable.
But the best thing I did was as a witness. I played Murtaugh, the co-conspirator. On paper, he’s awful — a liar who knowingly advanced the conspiracy. My job was to fall on the sword in hostile direct, admit the lies, and still make it clear that yes, we bullied the eyewitness together.
I didn’t expect Joe — a fantastic defense attorney from Chelsea, Massachusetts (and a great musician, former AMTA finalist, and law school champ) — to throw multiple voir dires mid-direct. I went through thirty minutes of nonstop credibility attacks. I stayed in character as this absolute jerk the entire time.
That’s why I loved it. It was one of my favorite performances ever. And despite going toe-to-toe with a rival that good, I think we won the showcase’s narrative.
2: 2025 Peer Potential Mock Trial Showcase [Stern v. Macalester]
Score: 9.5 (9.7 close, 9.3 CX)
There might be some recency bias here, but I loved this showcase. The case was a Home Alone riff: a burglar suing the child for setting up needlessly cruel traps that caused disproportionate injury.
I thought it leaned pro-defense, but the plaintiff was excellent. Run by UCLA’s A-team captains, Yale, Chicago, and the top graduating high schooler in the world, their case hammered how much time the kid had to call the police instead of inflicting deliberate pain. A smart frame.
On defense, our theme was simple: a child was attacked by criminals. My cross was the centerpiece. I went all in on breaking the credibility of the victim. Instead of sympathizing, I pushed contradictions: between attorney statements and witness testimony, between their claims of “child cruelty” and their own refusal to back down, between their story and their logic. The goal was to provoke a shift from sympathetic victim to aggressive antagonist. And it worked.
Why not a 10? Aggression is polarizing. Some judges love it, others don’t. The witness was also skilled — even after suffering several clean impeachments, I blanked on one of my prepared lines. She seized that moment to block an impeachment midstream. Since her answers were more aggressive than anything on direct, and the point of the exam was to demonstrate how aggressive she is and was, it’s a coin toss how the exchange scored depending on judge bias. But that’s the mark of an electric performance. I closed with a withdrawn question that flipped the plaintiffs theme back on itself.
My closing was fun, too, though my former student Kole stole the show. He was loose, easy, and responsive — as good as anyone in the country. I liked his style more than mine, my substance more than his, and our structures equally.
So much great mock trial in one round. I was proud to be there, and even more excited to see how much further everyone involved will grow.
WATCH THE 2025 VIDEO HERE.
1: 2023 Peer Potential Mock Trial Showcase [Allen v. Neptune Underwater Expeditions]
SCORE: 9.7 [10 close, 10 cross, 9.3 direct)]
This is widely recognized as one of AMTA’s best cases. A scuba diver disappears on the seafloor. His spouse sues the company that was supposed to keep him safe.
The plaintiff could run almost anything: negligence for diving during a tropical storm, for letting him swim alone, for breaking the buddy system, for ignoring health concerns. The defense had strong angles too: assumption of risk, misrepresentation of health, bad luck.
We ran something different. Our theory was that the dive guides were drunk the night before, too hungover to track him properly, and then destroyed evidence before the Coast Guard arrived. That’s not a risk the victim could have assumed — and the defense didn’t see it coming.
I liked my direct of Jessica as a character witness. We had her get off the stand to demonstrate the positions of divers underwater. It worked. I over-objected during cross, though, and slowed momentum.
My cross of the dive guide was the highlight. I set up an in-case contradiction: she denied drinking in her affidavit, but defense witnesses placed her with a drink in hand. I flipped the demonstrative through questioning. I flubbed the wording at the end, but the audience didn’t notice.
The closing was my best yet. Full command of the space, walking the audience into the argument, flipping defense themes, using analogies to land each point, rebutting only as much as needed. It mattered to me to stick the landing here.
Back in my junior year, I lost this case by one point in semifinals. This was my way of showing how deeply I’d studied the fact pattern and how far I’d come.
WATCH THE 2023 VIDEO HERE.
Ranking these rounds forced me to do something every advocate hates: watch myself with the same cold eye I use on my students. It’s humbling. Some of my “big” moments don’t age well. Some throwaway lines or character choices turned out to define my reputation. That’s the game.
If you’ve read this far, you probably love mock trial too. So here’s my ask:
Coaches: Re-watch your own rounds. What worked then? What wouldn’t fly now? Share it with your team.
Competitors: Don’t just chase “perfect” ballots. Chase the rounds that make you better, even if they hurt.
Alums: Tell your stories. Your students want to know what you learned the hard way.
