John McClean entered court number 13 a little after 10 am last Thursday carrying a black leather overnight bag and a red notebook. He knew he was more than likely going to prison that day, so he was prepared. He was smaller than I remembered him, but still very much the same man. There was a moment as he sat down when his eyes flashed towards the men in their 40s, 50s, and 60s who had brought him finally to this day. But once the judge arrived, it was head down.  McClean tried to delay things by arguing his confinement…