Franken-Coleman hearing offered plenty of courtroom color

(Photos: The UpTake)

In what could be the last time the forces of Al Franken and Norm Coleman clash within the same four walls, yesterday’s drama at the Minnesota Supreme Court didn’t disappoint.

The star power alone was enough to short out the huge, eye-like chandelier that hung over the proceedings.

First there was Coleman himself, greeted at the sidewalk by a clutch of cameras, making his courtroom entrance (with entourage) 25 minutes before the proceedings. No longer on crutches and moving with seeming ease, Coleman schmoozed with both sides. “Excellent job, by the way,” he purred to Franken lawyer Kevin Hamilton.

Associate Justice Alan Page, a former Minnesota Viking and the only justice to gain his seat on the bench via election, held the reins in the courtroom in the absence of recused Chief Justice Eric Magnuson.

Glasses propped above his eyebrows and wearing a brightly colored bowtie, Page asked the most questions, and the most basic: “Do we have authority to do anything here?” “Where is the purposeful and and intentional discrimination to create the equal protection claim?”

Page had picked the three lower-court judges who presided over the election contest trial and found Franken the 312-vote victor. Coleman was in court to ask Page and his colleagues to reject that ruling and return the case to the three-judge panel for more ballot-counting.

Each side was allowed three attorneys at its table; Coleman took a chair at his and sat studying the justices’ reactions as his lead lawyer, Joe Friedberg, parried their interruptions and inquisitions. To an inexpert eye, the court didn’t seem to be giving up many clues by their facial expressions and body language, but Coleman’s gift with people likely includes special skills at reading them.

Friedberg was Coleman’s point man and justices’ lightning rod. A prodigious trial attorney with zero election-law experience, Friedberg kept his famous folksiness mostly in check — beyond an opening line that ostentatiously undercut a Coleman miscue in front of the same five justices last December (before Friedberg joined the team).

“Minnesota is quite different from other states,” Friedberg declaimed, an approach 180 degrees from that of Roger Magnuson (no longer with the team) who tried to tell the justices that Minnesota suffered from Florida’s flaws in the 2000 presidential election.

Friedberg had a ready reply, if not always a satisfactory one, for the many questions directed his way. (”Absolutely, 100 percent, unequivocally: No!” was one.) But the expressive Friedberg seemed glum from the outset, perhaps in anticipation of what proved to be a brutal grilling from the bench.

Doug Kelley, Coleman’s attorney in another matter (the civil suits alleging that donor Nasser Kazeminy steered him unreported cash), made a surprise appearance, joining legal clerks and the former senator’s deep bench in chairs behind the main table.

A former assistant U.S. Attorney with a lot on his plate (handling the dissolution of Tom Petters’ empire for one), Kelley nonetheless showed himself capable of the most delicate of finger-waves as he headed back to Coleman’s side of the room following a round of introductions to the Franken team.

Coleman had more attorneys present, but the legal team for his Democratic opposite formed a more cohesive group on the courtroom floor. Before the proceedings all but Marc Elias (Franken’s presenter) joked and goofed; afterwards, the four huddled with smiles all around.