Did They or Didn’t They?

With the rise of murder shows, podcasts, and movies like Serial, Making a Murder, and The People v OJ, one big question remains. Did they or didn’t they? In this series, I will be examining these cases and determining whether or not I think the individual on trial committed the crime or not.

In the case of OJ Simpson I believe: He did it. Here’s why:

The Glove

Growing up, I remember hearing about OJ’s trial. I was seven at the time, and all I can remember hearing was “If the glove don’t fit you must acquit. Now that I’m all “grown up” presuming a man is innocent just because the murder gloves are too small is silly to me. The bloody gloves had been frozen and unfrozen many times. What happens to leather when it gets cold? It shrinks.

Furthermore, let’s assume for a second, that the gloves were always that size, were not covered in dry blood, were not stiff, and did not shrink. Whose to say that OJ simply cannot commit a murder because the fit of his gloves were uncomfortable.

The Car Chase

On the day of OJ’s arrest, he got into his white bronco and drove off on the highway for hours, being chased by the LAPD. The slow speeds of the car indicate to me that OJ not only couldn’t believe what he had done but was scared to go to jail for the rest of his life for it.

If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer 

If you are on the fence, go read his book. There’s no better way of saying that you committed a murder than writing a book that hypothetically explains in detail how you would have done it if you had done it.

The book goes into detail about the rocky relationship OJ had with his wife and gives the reader a good idea of exactly how and why OJ would have killed Nicole Simpson Brown “if he did it.” I’ll leave you with an excerpt from the book.

Nicole came at me, swinging. “Get the fuck out of here!” she said. “This is my house and I can do what I want!” “Not in front of my kids, you can’t!” “Fuck you!” “No, fuck you. I gave you everything you could ask for, and you fucked it all up.” She came at me like a banshee, all arms and legs, flailing, and I ducked and she lost her balance and fell against the stoop. She fell hard on her right side. I could hear the back of her head hitting the ground and lay there for a moment, not moving. “Jesus Christ, O.J., let’s get the fuck out of here!” Charlie said, his voice cracking. I looked over at Goldman, and I was fuming. I guess he thought I was going to hit him, because he got into his little karate stance. “What the fuck is that?” I said. “You think you can take me with your karate shit?” He started circling me, bobbing and weaving, and if I hadn’t been so fucking angry I would have laughed in his face. “O.J., come on!” It was Charlie again, pleading. Nicole moaned, regaining consciousness. She stirred on the ground and opened her eyes and looked at me, but it didn’t seenlike anything was registering. Charlie walked over and planted himself in front of me blocking my view. “We are fucking done here, man”let’s go!” I noticed the knife in Charlie’s hand, and in one deft move I removed my right glove and snatched it up. “We’re not going anywhere,” I said.

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