Cheering on the chosen ones

I have never put on black tie and eaten a meal at a table for ten, while being careful to not drink too much because I might, just might, be making an acceptance speech. 

Not for me the worry of tripping on my way up to the stage, or the fear that I might just drop the thing that I have won, or forget to thank someone really important.

I have never won anything like that. Each year I am hopeful – there are always things like the new year or Queen’s birthday honours lists, but no. No Sports Personality of the Year (SPOTY), no Oscar, no Bafta, no Grammy, no Tony, no Tom, Dick or Harry.

Apparently, there is an award for best sandwich – presumably a ‘Sarnie’ – but I haven’t won that either. Of course, you have to be in it to win it, and, although I am eligible for a gong, I accept that SPOTY would be pushing it.

But we do have the imminent Chambers and Partners Lawyers of the Year Awards. The shortlists are out, but, sadly, I am not among the nervous black-tie ball-gown bunch who will be laughing it off self-consciously during the pre-dinner drinks.

Barristers always react in a funny way to the Chambers and Legal 500 listings. If you don’t
get in, invariably some well-meaning individual will tell
you that it all means nothing. You laugh reassuring, while privately seething that a deadly rival is ranked higher than you and the quote against their name does not reflect your experience of their ability.

If you do get in, you similarly say things like, “Oh well, it is a
lot of old nonsense really,” while seething again that you have slipped, or not been promoted, and your deadly rival, etc.

Let’s face it, it’s great to be loved and it’s great to be in,
and it’s not great not to be.
There is, of course, a strong suspicion that some of those listed must somehow have gotten their mum or granny to be a referee, but, on the whole, we seem to think that the ranks are about right. But would I
really want to be ‘Crime Junior
of the Year’? What a label to carry about. From then on you will probably start doing really stupid things in court, and will hear whispers of “‘Crime Junior of the Year’, eh?”. Or everyone will sit back to listen to your submission, nudging each other and muttering, “This should be a treat, ‘Crime Junior of the Year’”, or, when co-defending in a multi-hander, the rest will say, “Let’s leave it to ‘Crime Junior
of the Year’: they’re obviously really clever”.

Then, next year, when you
are no longer the reigning champion but the deposed ‘Crime Junior of the Year’, vanquished by your deadly
rival etc., you’re just last year’s ‘of the Year’. Sounds sad and lonely, doesn’t it?

So, I am happy to be in the audience and cheer on the chosen ones. A place in the big book would be nice, if anyone
is listening. ut other than that I shall save myself for something else, like
a Nobel Prize, or one of those little ones from the Queen that we don’t know the letters for,
or maybe just a postcard or an announcement in The Times. fter all, we all want to be loved really. SJ

Felix is the pen name for a barrister practising in London

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