✏️ Legal Pad
Sunday Ticket, Antitrust, and the Cost of Watching Football
The Department of Justice has reportedly opened an investigation into whether the NFL’s broadcast model has crossed the line from coordination into anticompetitive conduct.
At the center of the issue is the Sports Broadcasting Act of 1961, which gives the NFL a limited exemption from antitrust laws, specifically allowing teams to collectively negotiate television rights. At the time, that made sense. Games were largely available on free broadcast television, and the goal was to expand access, not restrict it.
Fast forward to today, and the landscape looks very different.
Watching NFL games now often requires navigating a maze of networks, streaming platforms, and subscription packages. One estimate put the cost of accessing every game in a single season at nearly $1,000. What was once a unified broadcast model has fractured into something far more complex—and far more expensive.
From the government’s perspective, the question is straightforward: has the league used its collective power to structure media deals in a way that harms consumers by limiting access and driving up costs?
From the NFL’s perspective, the answer is just as clear: no.
The league points out that a vast majority of its games (around 87%) are still available on local television, and that even games placed on streaming platforms remain accessible in local markets. It also notes that viewership is strong. which, in its view, reflects a system that is working.
Both arguments can be true at the same time.
The NFL’s distribution model is undeniably successful. But success doesn’t end the antitrust inquiry-it often invites it. The real question is whether the structure that drives that success has shifted from broad accessibility toward controlled scarcity.
There’s also a deeper tension at play.
The exemption granted in 1961 was built for a broadcast era. The current system operates in a fragmented, subscription-driven marketplace. At some point, the law has to reconcile whether a mid-20th century framework still makes sense for a 21st century product.
The investigation is in its early stages, and nothing has been decided. But it’s another example of a familiar legal theme:
When industries evolve, the law eventually catches up.
The only question is how long it takes.
💡 Sidebar
Trial Tip #24: Sometimes It’s Just Showing Up
I had an unusual request last week. A lawyer I know and respect asked if I would ride down to Columbia with him for oral argument before the Court of Appeals. I didn’t know anything about the case. I didn’t have time to prepare. And none of that mattered, because that’s not why he wanted me there.
He wanted me there because the lawyer on the other side hates me.
Not casually. Not professionally. The kind of dislike that gets built over years of contested cases where no ground is given and no favors are extended. We’ve had some battles, and I’ve never made his life easier. In fact, in our last case, I made it difficult enough that he moved to be relieved.
So the invitation wasn’t about strategy in the traditional sense. It was about presence. And it worked.
I won’t flatter myself enough to say it caused him to lose his argument, but I can tell you that he noticed. Immediately. Visibly irritated when I walked in. And afterward, he made a point to ask me why I was there and whether I was getting involved in the case.
I told him (whether true or not) that when he lost the appeal and it got remanded, I might just be sitting at counsel table.
The point is simple: not everything that matters in a courtroom is said out loud. Like a good haircut, sometimes it’s just showing up that makes the difference.
⚖️ Closing Arguments
We’re heading to Augusta on Sunday.
The Masters is one of those events that looks effortless on television. Clean swings. Perfect greens. Calm players walking fairways like it’s just another round of golf. It’s not.
Winning a tournament like that requires something far more difficult than a great swing. It requires discipline over time. The ability to recover from mistakes without compounding them. The awareness that one bad hole doesn’t end your chances, but two or three might.
Trial work lives in that same space.
No case is perfect. No presentation is flawless. There are always moments where something doesn’t land the way you wanted it to. A witness answers differently than expected. A ruling doesn’t go your way. An exhibit doesn’t hit as hard as it should.
The difference isn’t avoiding those moments. It’s managing them.
Great golfers don’t win because they hit perfect shots every time. They win because they limit the damage when they don’t. They stay steady. They don’t chase shots that aren’t there. They play the course as it unfolds.
You don’t win because everything goes right. You win because when things go wrong, you don’t let it spiral. You stay composed. You adjust. You keep moving forward.
Because in both golf and trial, the people who succeed aren’t the ones chasing perfection.
They’re the ones who handle imperfection the best.
Court is in recess- see you next Friday.
