It is as well for journalists to know what they are up against before loosing off questions at H.T. Smith.

Otherwise they could find themselves thrown into a verbal fencing match, without a foil and minus a guard.

A verbal slip, an improperly framed question, a seemingly cavalier approach to facts and OUCH! Expect to find yourself pinned against the wall by a well-directed H.T. thrust.

But then again Mr. Smith is a lawyer and verbal sword play is his stock in trade. It has earned him a sizeable reputation in Miami, where he lives and works. As the attorney for the seven Under-23 soccer players -- whose fate is expected to be decided today -- he is also virtually a household name in Bermuda.

Mr. Smith, however, is more than just a formidable courtroom combatant. He is, what one friend called, a "black activist.'' There were hints of that in his initial dealing with The Royal Gazette over the soccer players saga.

"Royal Gazette, royal ?'' he said after the reporter introduced himself.

There was no mistaking the message behind such mocking emphasis. One suspects such subjects as royalty, colonialism and the structures of society have preoccupied Mr. Smith for a fair number of his 47 years.

Enter Mr. Smith's law offices and there are further hints about the man, and the esteem he is held in by fellow blacks. An impressive array of plaques line his office walls -- awards from black organisations.

Honours include the Neal Adams/Richard Powell Civil Rights Award; National Conference of Black Lawyers Special Service Award, 1991; the Whitney M. Young Memorial Humanitarian Award, the Urban League of Greater Miami, 1986; and the Presidential Award, the National Bar Association, 1986.

There are also copies of Jet Magazine liberally set out on the coffee table in the office foyer. Everything is suggestive of a neat, tidy man who is steeped in Afro-Americanism.

It is, therefore, no surprise when one learns about Mr. Smith's prominent role in Miami's recent social history, and his part in a famous boycott of the city's tourism trade.

"He is a fantastic man. You won't find anyone who hasn't a nice word to say about him,'' gushed a spokeswoman for Miami News Net, a 24-hour TV News service which produced a documentary on Mr. Smith.

Somehow one finds that difficult to believe; after all, an activist is bound to tread on a few toes in the community. The father-of-two is no exception.

Born in Miami's Overtown, Harold Teliaferro Smith's mother was a beautician, his father a mail courier.

In a 1990 interview with the Miami Herald, Mr. Smith told how he only ever attended segregated schools. His academic ambitions, he said, were thwarted because of his colour. Being a mailman, a bus driver or perhaps a teacher was the best he could expect. He went on to join the University of Miami Law School, which had begun recruiting blacks, after getting a degree maths and physics. And during his first semester he used the student newspaper to attack the school for not hiring black employees.

According to The Miami Herald, Mr. Smith wound up working as a public defender and, later assistant Dade County attorney. The paper added: "He emerged as a public figure when he defended MacArthur High School Principal Solomon Barnes in 1980 in the Gold Plumbing Case. "Barnes was charged with using $9,000 in public school funds to buy luxury plumbing fixtures.'' Around this time Mr. Smith was also making a name for himself outside the courtroom. In the early 1980s he organised pickets against local banks to block trading in South African gold, and he spearheaded a movement to spotlight the exclusion of blacks from local juries.

The Joe Robbie Stadium -- scene of the recent Super Bowl -- also became a cause celebre when he fought against the destruction of a black neighbourhood for the building of it. Mr. Smith, however, is best known as the mastermind behind the three-year Boycott Miami campaign, which ended in May 1993.

The cause? Miami's snubbing of Nelson Mandela and the confrontation between city Police and members of the Haitian community at Biscayne Plaza.

The strategy? To boycott he very heart of Miami's economy -- tourism.

The aim? To force Miami and its businesses to redress their past errors and give the black community a larger chunk of the $5.7-billion-a-year tourism pie. To boost job prospects for blacks, in other words.

At that time Mr. Smith reckoned about 17 percent of the pie was produced by black visitors. He told The Miami Herald: "We have had three riots in Miami since 1980, and I want the majority community to pay attention to what is going on here without violence.

"I want the majority community to understand that if they don't respond to reasonable, law-abiding demands, the Al Sharptons will have centre stage.

"I want my community and our money to be respected, because from that, all things flow. That's what the Latin community demanded. That's what the Jewish community demanded, and that's why there are no longer signs on the beach, as there were when I was coming up, that say `No jews, niggers or dogs!'' Mr. Smith, who is president of the National Bar Association (a Washington-based organisation representing 16,000 black attorneys), was riled by the reception Mandela received when he visited the city.

Feelings against the anti-apartheid leader had become inflamed by his comments on ABC's Nightline which were viewed as support for Fidel Castro, Yasser Arafat and Libya's Gadhafi.

When Mandela arrived he was snubbed by local leaders, and no key to the city was offered him -- as had been demanded by Mr. Smith and his Coalition for a Free South Africa. On July 17, 1990, Miami's Black Lawyers' Association appealed for a national boycott of the city by black conventioneers. The call was answered.

The next month the National Bar Association announced 1,000 convention delegates would find another city for their meetings. The National Medical Association quickly followed suit. Civil rights leader Jesse Jackson said at the time: "The boycott will grow. It's going to get national recognition.'' Mr. Smith became a figure to be reckoned with, speaking on the boycott on radio, television, from church pulpits, and at meetings of the National Organisation of women.

People in Bermuda have had a taste of his oratorical style during the Under-23s controversy.

At one stage he was heard on TV chiding the Bermuda Police for allegedly harassing his clients, and showing a lack of courtesy. On another occasion on TV he declared he would be putting Bermuda to the test over its response to the players' arrests. The language was forceful, but never offered in the form of a harangue. Mr. Smith came across as someone adept at using the media for his own ends. That skill could well be in evidence after today's court hearing, which is expected to resolve the case of the seven players.

In the 1990 interview with The Miami Herald, Mr. Smith, perhaps surprisingly, summed himself up as a washing machine. He elaborated: "People think being an agitator is a bad thing. But agitators are what get out the dirt.'' A later Herald article carried a similar quote, encapsulating what many people in Miami associate with H. T. Smith.

"I believe that it's absolutely necessary for oppressed people to agitate for justice. I am proud of the fact that African Americans in Miami were able to agitate for justice in an effective, disciplined, non-violent manner.'' Mr. Smith declined to be interviewed for this profile after being fiercely critical of The Royal Gazette's coverage of the story involving Bermuda's seven Under-23 soccer players. Among other things, he accused the paper of smearing his clients.