By Polly Tickle
In an unscripted final act, O.J. Simpson, the once-glorified NFL star turned infamous defendant, has lost his last appeal in the grueling courtroom of life and death. His latest opponent, a relentless, remorseless cancer, chose to invoke the Fifth Amendment, providing no comments, no confessions—simply its inevitable verdict.
Simpson’s life, which unfolded like a series of increasingly unbelievable TV episodes, from gridiron glory to courtroom drama, had everyone guessing until the very end. Yet, unlike his infamous 1995 acquittal, where the gloves famously did not fit, this time there were no loopholes, no grandstanding lawyers, and decidedly, no acquittal. The end came quietly, a stark contrast to the media circus that once electrified a nation and forever changed the landscape of publicized trials.
Now, as scriptwriters scramble to pen this final chapter, and legal analysts dust off their best trial analogies, the court of public opinion is left pondering the strange poetry of Simpson’s fate. Would any screenwriter have dared to write such an ending where, after decades of outrunning nearly everything—tacklers, accusations, even reality—Simpson couldn’t dodge the shadow of mortality?
In the wake of his passing, a mixed legacy remains—a cocktail of admiration, infamy, and disbelief. Suggestions for memorials have ranged from the poignant to the satirical, including proposals for a foundation supporting those “unfairly pursued” by forces both seen and unseen, be it by the law, the press, or rogue biology.
As memorabilia dealers hastily revise their pricing strategies and biographers feverishly update their drafts, the final gavel falls on the O.J. Simpson saga. It closes not with a bang, but with the silent nod of a disease that refused to testify, leaving behind a legacy wrapped in spectacle, shadowed by controversy, and now sealed by the inexorable march of time.