In The News

We didn’t just want I.U. to win last month.
We needed them to.

And they did.

The Indiana University Hoosiers—long defined by what they weren’t—became national champions. A result few predicted and even fewer expected.

After the game, my phone filled with messages. One friend’s message stayed with me:

“It’s stuff that people dream about.” 

But what most people really dream about isn’t a national title.

It’s the moment when the odds stop dictating the outcome.
When the story everyone accepted turns out not to be the whole story.

That’s why this improbable 16–0 season—and this victory—mattered so much.

We have deep ties to Indiana University. Our son is a senior in the Kelley School of Business. Our daughter is a junior at the Mark Cuban Media School. They’re Hoosiers. Last week, they watched their school step outside the role it had been assigned.

And it reminded us of what it feels like to challenge a story that everyone else has already decided is over.

Why plaintiff trial lawyers matter

Plaintiff trial lawyers spend their careers in the shadow of expectation. We represent individuals against systems—people against institutions built to absorb challenge. From the outset, the language is familiar.

Underdog.
Long shot.
Never going to win.

Even when juries listen. Even when evidence persuades. Even when accountability feels clear, there are forces—structural, procedural, economic—that narrow what justice is allowed to look like.

This is where plaintiff trial lawyers work.

Not because it’s easy.
But because it’s necessary.

Refusing the premise

A few years ago, during Family Weekend in Bloomington, our family of six sat in an almost empty stadium. It was hot. Indiana was losing. At halftime, we left. Nothing suggested change was coming.

In 2023, a coach by the name of Curt Cignetti arrived.  He was confident.  Most said, he was overly confident.  He rejected the premise that history decides outcomes.

He assembled people others overlooked and insisted that results are earned long before they appear inevitable.   

They didn’t get lucky.
They got ready.

They believed they could win.

That distinction matters far beyond sports.

The quiet work behind change

This is what plaintiff trial lawyers do every day. We prepare in the background. We test arguments others dismiss. We represent people whose stories are inconvenient to powerful interests.

We don’t assume the system will correct itself.
We show up to ask it to do better.

The work is deliberate. Often slow. Frequently misunderstood. It involves standing beside someone long after the spotlight has moved on, carrying a record carefully built, knowing the next audience may be skeptical—or worse, dismissive.

Still, we prepare.

Because progress has never belonged to those who accept the premise that the ending is already written.

Why now

Indiana didn’t change its story by hoping. It changed it by refusing to accept what had always been said about it—and by doing the work others wouldn’t.

That’s the reminder last week offered.

That preparation matters.
That persistence matters.
That even when the odds are fixed against you, the work still matters.

Plaintiff trial lawyers matter because they keep asking the system to live up to its promises—especially when someone is told, quietly or loudly, that the fight is already over.

Sometimes the most important moment comes after the verdict.
Sometimes the longest odds come last.

And sometimes, all that’s required is the willingness to prepare for the room where everyone says you don’t stand a chance.

We’re ready.

Google us.
Petersens prepare.