Ito was livid with anger. Whatever fragile truce had existed between us after the recusal incident was now broken. But I really didn’t care. Seven months earlier, when he issued his disastrous ruling on allowing the N-word in, I’d agonized over whether to try and get him overruled on appeal. I’d decided against it, so as not to prejudice him hopelessly against our side. I’d been wrong. He’d shafted us anyway.
