Memory is a sieve, not a hard drive.
When a former MLB player takes the stand to testify about a horrific accident involving Rebecca Grossman and two young boys, the media treats his words like gospel. They see a professional athlete—a man trained in "tracking the ball"—and equate that visual skill with objective truth. They are wrong. In the courtroom, we are obsessed with the "who" and the "what," but we consistently ignore the biological reality of how humans process trauma, speed, and night-time visibility.
The trial of Rebecca Grossman isn't just a story about a socialite and a tragic loss of life; it is a masterclass in why our reliance on eyewitness accounts is a fundamental failure of the justice system.
The Myth of the Athlete's Eye
The prosecution leaned heavily on the testimony of an ex-Dodger. The narrative is seductive: here is a man whose livelihood depended on tracking 95 mph fastballs. If anyone can judge the speed of a white Mercedes or the exact moment of impact, it’s him, right?
Wrong.
The human brain is remarkably poor at estimating the speed of a vehicle moving toward or away from it. This is a phenomenon known as the looming effect. While an athlete can track an object within a predictable trajectory (a baseball diamond), a chaotic, high-stress event on a public road is a different beast entirely.
Research by cognitive psychologist Elizabeth Loftus has shown for decades that eyewitness testimony is the leading cause of wrongful convictions. In a split-second event, the brain fills in gaps with "schematized" memories—logic-based guesses that feel like first-hand observations. When an ex-athlete says he saw a car "flying," he isn't reporting a measurement; he’s reporting an emotion.
Speed is a Feeling, Not a Fact
We love to throw around numbers in these cases. 70 mph. 80 mph. The competitor articles fixate on these figures as if the witnesses had radar guns embedded in their retinas.
In reality, most people cannot distinguish between a car going 50 mph and one going 70 mph in a residential setting without a stationary point of reference. The sound of a high-performance engine, the size of the vehicle, and the tragic outcome all "retroactively" inflate the perceived speed in a witness’s mind.
If you see a tragedy, your brain demands a reason. "She must have been going fast" becomes "I saw her going 80." This isn't lying; it's a neurological survival mechanism. We want the world to make sense, so we heighten the variables to match the severity of the consequence.
The Problem with the "Second Car" Narrative
The defense in the Grossman case has frequently pointed to a second vehicle—specifically that of Scott Erickson. This creates a "distraction variable." When multiple high-speed objects are in motion, the human eye cannot track both simultaneously. This is inattentional blindness.
If a witness is focused on one car, their account of the second car’s position is statistically likely to be inaccurate. Yet, we allow juries to weigh these conflicting accounts as if they were reviewing a VAR replay in a soccer match. We are asking twelve laypeople to perform complex physics calculations based on the unreliable narration of a traumatized bystander.
Technical Accuracy vs. Emotional Weight
Let’s talk about the physics of the impact. The prosecution argues Grossman was "racing." The defense argues it was an unavoidable accident.
Here is the cold, hard math that gets lost in the emotional shuffle of celebrity testimony:
- Kinetic Energy: $E_k = \frac{1}{2}mv^2$.
- Because velocity is squared, a small increase in speed results in a massive increase in lethality.
- Perception-Reaction Time: The average driver takes 1.5 seconds to perceive a hazard and apply the brakes. At 60 mph, a car travels 88 feet per second.
By the time any witness "saw" what was happening, the physics were already locked in. The "ex-Dodger" isn't a witness to the cause; he’s a witness to the inevitability. Focusing on his celebrity status or his "trained eyes" is a distraction from the telemetry data that actually tells the story.
The Industry Insider Truth
I have watched legal teams spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on expert witnesses to debunk or uphold a single three-second memory. It is a massive waste of resources. If we actually cared about truth, we would prioritize:
- Event Data Recorders (EDR): The "black box" of the car. It doesn't have an ego. It doesn't have a "hero" narrative.
- LiDAR Reconstruction: Mapping the scene with lasers to prove what was physically possible to see from a witness's vantage point.
- Neurological Vetting: Requiring witnesses to undergo basic cognitive testing to see if they are even capable of the spatial awareness they claim to possess.
Instead, we get a circus. We get "former MLB player says she hit them." It’s a headline designed for clicks, not for justice.
Why We Should Stop Trusting the "Golden Witness"
The "Golden Witness"—the person with the high-profile job or the "perfect" view—is the most dangerous element in a courtroom. They provide a false sense of security for the jury. They make a complex, tragic event seem simple.
The Grossman trial is messy because life is messy. The road was dark. The cars were fast. The tragedy was instantaneous. To suggest that a retired athlete can pierce through that chaos and provide a definitive account is an insult to the complexity of human perception.
We need to stop asking "What did the witness see?" and start asking "What was the witness capable of seeing?"
If we don't change how we weigh testimony against hard telemetry, we aren't running a justice system. We're running a theater.
The jury isn't looking for the truth; they're looking for a story they can believe. And that is the most terrifying part of the modern trial.
Stop looking at the witness stand. Look at the data.
