Last week, The New York Times published a deeply reported investigation alleging that Donald Trump personally intervened with FIFA President Gianni Infantino to have U.S. striker Folarin "Flo" Balogon’s red card suspended so he could play in the United States' World Cup Round of 16 match against Belgium.

Whether you're a soccer fan or not almost doesn’t matter.

The allegation is what matters.

The President of the United States allegedly used the weight of his office to influence what should have been an independent disciplinary decision. And according to the report, it worked.

That's not just a sports story. It's also a workplace investigation story.

One of the quickest ways to undermine an internal investigation is for someone with power to signal what outcome they want before the facts have been gathered.

It doesn't have to be as dramatic as a president calling the head of FIFA.

It can be the CEO who tells HR, "I know she's lying."

Or the founder who says, "He's too valuable to lose."

Or the executive who reminds everyone that the accused employee "has always been loyal to this company."

Once that happens, the investigation isn't really about finding the truth anymore. It’s about justifying a preferred outcome.

Employees notice.
Witnesses notice.
And if the matter ends up in litigation, juries notice too.

I've defended countless employment cases over the years. One theme appears over and over again: plaintiffs don't just attack the employer's decision. They also attack the integrity of the process that produced it.

They ask who made the decision.
Who influenced the decision.
Whether HR was actually independent.
Whether investigators interviewed the right witnesses.
Whether evidence that favored the employee was ignored.
Whether similarly situated employees were treated differently because someone important wanted a particular result.

Those questions matter because courts and juries understand something every workplace leader should understand: A fair process is often just as important as the ultimate decision.

When investigations appear predetermined, employers create problems that extend far beyond the individual case.

They lose credibility with employees.

They discourage people from reporting misconduct because they believe the outcome is already decided.

Managers stop trusting HR.

And in litigation, what might have been a defensible termination suddenly looks like retaliation, discrimination, favoritism, or pretext.

The legal issue often isn't that someone with authority participated in the decision. Senior leaders are supposed to make important decisions.

The problem is when that authority becomes improper influence.

HR and investigators need enough independence to follow the evidence wherever it leads—even if the facts point in an uncomfortable direction or involve a high-performing executive, a rainmaker, or someone the CEO likes.

Good investigations don't ask, "What outcome does leadership want?" They ask, "What actually happened?"

That’s the only question that protects the integrity of the process.

Not every wage-and-hour lawsuit belongs as a class action.

That's the lesson from the 4th Circuit's recent decision in Overby v. Anheuser-Busch, where the court vacated certification of a Virginia wage-and-hour class alleging employees weren't paid for mandatory pre- and post-shift work.

The case involved hourly employees at Anheuser-Busch's Williamsburg brewery. Employees claimed they performed a variety of unpaid activities outside their scheduled shifts, including donning and doffing personal protective equipment, complying with COVID-era screening protocols, attending shift-handoff meetings, and putting away tools. The district court certified a class of essentially all hourly brewery employees, concluding that the central question was whether Anheuser-Busch had a policy of paying only scheduled shift time despite requiring additional work.

The 4th Circuit wasn't buying it.

The court's opinion builds on its 2024 decision in Stafford v. Bojangles' Restaurants, which warned courts against defining common questions at too high a level of abstraction. According to Judge Wilkinson, broad formulations like "Did the company fail to pay employees for required work?" sound common, but they often conceal the very differences that make class treatment inappropriate.

And there were lots of differences here.

Some employees participated in shift-handoff meetings. Others didn't. Some employees wore certain PPE at home before arriving at work. Others changed at the brewery. Some employees worked during the COVID-screening period. Others were hired after those protocols ended. Some workers were governed by one version of Virginia's wage laws, while others were subject to a materially different statutory framework after legislative amendments took effect in 2022.

Those distinctions mattered because liability couldn't be determined with a single answer applicable to everyone. Instead, the court saw a case that would devolve into a series of employee-by-employee inquiries about what work was performed, where it was performed, when it was performed, and whether it was legally compensable.

That's poison for Rule 23's commonality and predominance requirements.

For employers, this decision reinforces an increasingly important trend in class-action jurisprudence. Courts are becoming less willing to certify sweeping workplace classes based solely on generalized allegations of companywide policies. Instead, they are demanding evidence that liability can actually be determined through common proof.

That's especially significant in off-the-clock cases. While plaintiffs often frame these lawsuits around a single alleged policy, the underlying facts frequently vary from employee to employee, department to department, location to location, and even shift to shift.

The 4th Circuit's message is straightforward: courts must look beneath the label of a "common policy" and examine whether the employees' actual experiences are sufficiently similar to justify collective treatment. If answering the liability question requires hundreds of mini-trials, class certification is likely off the table.

Employers should take note. A well-developed factual record showing differences in job duties, work practices, locations, schedules, and compensation procedures can be a powerful weapon against class certification. Overby demonstrates that even where employees allege a common wage-and-hour violation, meaningful variations among workers may be enough to keep the case from proceeding as a class action.

Class actions remain an important tool for addressing widespread workplace violations. But as the 4th Circuit reminded everyone in Overby, a common-policy allegation is not enough to certify a class if the underlying facts aren't common too.

For years, employers have treated noncompete agreements as just another item in the onboarding paperwork. Hand over the offer letter, the handbook acknowledgment, the tax forms, and somewhere in the stack sits a restrictive covenant that employees sign without much thought.

The recently settled lawsuit against Boston Beer Company serves as a reminder that noncompetes rarely stay confined to contract disputes. They can become Exhibit A in a much larger employment-law battle.

The case was brought by several former sales employees who alleged gender discrimination, retaliation, hostile work environment, and unlawful noncompete practices. According to the complaint, Boston Beer required broad noncompete agreements for sales employees and aggressively enforced them against departing workers. The plaintiffs claimed those restrictions trapped employees in jobs they wanted to leave, prevented them from pursuing opportunities with competitors, and amplified the effects of alleged discrimination and retaliation.

Boston Beer denied the allegations. The parties have now settled.

The settlement itself doesn't establish liability. But the allegations offer several important lessons for employers.

The Department of Labor has a message for employers in cities hosting the 2026 World Cup: We're here to help you comply with federal wage and hour laws.

Translation: We're watching.

The DOL's Wage and Hour Division recently announced compliance-assistance resources for employers in the 11 U.S. host cities preparing for the flood of soccer fans, tourists, hotel guests, restaurant patrons, bar tabs, rideshare trips, security needs, cleaning shifts, temporary staffing, and event work that will come with the tournament. The agency specifically pointed employers to resources for industries expecting World Cup-driven spikes, including restaurants, hotels, and other businesses serving fans.

That sounds friendly enough.

It's also a warning.

Because when demand spikes, hours spike. When hours spike, overtime spikes. And when overtime spikes, wage-and-hour mistakes multiply.

The FLSA does not contain a "but it was really busy because of soccer" exception.

It does not contain a "we were short staffed" exception.

It does not contain a "this was a once-in-a-generation event" exception.

And it most certainly does not contain a "we made everyone a manager for the month" exception.

If a non-exempt employee works more than 40 hours in a workweek, you pay overtime. One and one-half times the employee's regular rate. Not a flat bonus. Not free tickets. Not pizza. Not "we'll take care of you later." Overtime.

Special events create special wage-and-hour risks because employers start improvising.

They add shifts without thinking through overtime.

They pull assistant managers into non-managerial work and assume the salary still solves the problem.

They bring in temporary help and forget that someone has to track hours accurately.

They use volunteers who are not really volunteers.

They let employees work off the clock because "everyone is pitching in."

They miscalculate the regular rate by excluding bonuses, shift premiums, commissions, or other compensation that must be included.

They rely on tip pools that do not comply with the law.

They schedule minors for hours or jobs that child-labor rules do not permit.

They ask employees to answer texts, take calls, set up events, or close out work after clocking out.

That is how a great business opportunity turns into a DOL investigation.

And once the DOL starts asking questions, "we were slammed" is not a defense. It's called "Exhibit A."

Hospitality employers should be especially careful. Restaurants, bars, hotels, breweries, caterers, parking companies, security vendors, cleaning contractors, event venues, and staffing agencies all live in the danger zone during major events. These businesses often run on variable schedules, tipped employees, shift swaps, side work, temporary labor, and managers who jump in wherever needed.

That is normal operationally.

It is dangerous legally.

The fix is not complicated, but it does require discipline.

Audit classifications now. Make sure the employees you treat as exempt actually satisfy both the salary and duties tests. A title does not make someone exempt. Calling someone an "event manager" does not magically erase overtime if the job is mostly serving beer, checking IDs, cleaning rooms, stocking coolers, running food, or working a register.

Train supervisors before the rush. Managers need to understand that they cannot encourage, tolerate, or ignore off-the-clock work. If they know work is being performed, the time must be paid.

Plan schedules around the 40-hour workweek. The FLSA does not care that your payroll period is two weeks. Averaging 30 hours one week and 50 the next does not avoid overtime. That 50-hour week includes 10 overtime hours.

Review your regular-rate calculations. Bonuses, premiums, commissions, and some incentive payments may need to be included in the overtime calculation. This is one of the easiest places for employers to get it wrong.

Watch joint-employment issues. If you use staffing agencies, vendors, contractors, or event partners, do not assume their payroll mistakes stay their problem. Shared control can become shared liability.

Be careful with volunteers. For-profit businesses generally do not get free labor just because someone is excited about the event. Calling someone a volunteer does not make them one.

Keep clean records. If the records are bad, the employer almost always loses the wage-hour fight.

The World Cup will be great for host cities. It will be great for restaurants, hotels, bars, breweries, event venues, transportation providers, security companies, and countless other employers that will benefit from the surge.

But the FLSA is not suspended for kickoff.

Big events do not change the rules. They just increase the odds that employers will break them.

Sunday is Father's Day. Which makes this lawsuit especially worth paying attention to.

Emilio Arellano claims that Golden State Cider fired him after he took leave and sought additional flexibility to help care for his prematurely born son.

According to the lawsuit, his employer didn't respond with support. It responded with retaliation. The company denies wrongdoing. The case remains pending.

But the allegations highlight an issue many employers still fail to recognize:
Workplace discrimination against fathers is real.

Not because employers think fathers are caregivers. Because they think they aren't.

When employers assume fathers should prioritize work over family, they're relying on the same unlawful sex stereotypes that protect mothers when employers assume they should shoulder caregiving responsibilities.

The EEOC has been saying this for decades. Denying leave, flexibility, or opportunities to fathers that would be afforded to mothers can violate Title VII.

And the legal risk is increasing.

Last year, the Supreme Court held in Ames v. Department of Youth Services that Title VII protects "any individual" and that courts cannot impose higher burdens on so-called majority-group plaintiffs.

The EEOC has embraced that principle, making clear that discrimination is discrimination, regardless of who brings the claim.

That matters for fathers.

A dad who is treated differently because he doesn't conform to traditional expectations about gender and caregiving isn't bringing a novel claim. He's bringing a sex discrimination claim.

Which brings us to a question every employer should ask: If this employee were a mother instead of a father, would we have responded the same way?

If the answer is no, you've identified a legal risk. And perhaps a cultural one, too.

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To See or Not to See: Disciplined Worker Entitled to View Employer's Surveillance Footage — via EntertainHR

Pride Night, Bible Verses, and When Title VII Protections Collide Regrets, I've had a few. Sometimes the merits don't matter. And that's exactly the point. DOJ's attack on disparate impact gets Title VII exactly backwards Unpaid leave is an ADA reasonable accommodation; it just can't be the only one you offer