Last Friday, the gavel fell upon disgraced former Denver school board member Tay Anderson. Judge David H. Goldberg ordered Anderson to shell out $61,060 in attorneys’ fees — the hefty price tag for his failed defamation lawsuit against Black Lives Matter 5280 and activist Amy Brown.

But Anderson’s legal saga was just the opening act in a worn-out script. As if on cue, he resurrected his timeless role as the perpetual victim.

“I continue to be appalled by the actions of this organization and the false statements they made about me on their social media platforms in 2021,” he lamented to multiple media outlets.

“I don’t come from wealth,” he confessed to The Denver Gazette. “I don’t have that sort of money sitting around.”

Yet, as the curtain lifted on Anderson’s courtroom drama, it unveiled a reckoning from a damning investigation that was commissioned by his own school board — and exposed a stunning trail of aggressive solicitation and coercive advances toward underage teens in school.

A harrowing account emerged from one girl, just 17 at the time, who confided to investigators that Anderson “made me feel extremely uncomfortable and scared to go places in the case that I would see him.”

He’d pursued “stargazing or a sleepover at his place with him.” At one point, after the teen rejected Anderson’s advances, he snapped: “You’re such a pussy. Just come.”

Another teen — a 16-year-old DPS student — became ensnared in Facebook and text messages with the school board member, who was expressly entrusted with students’ well-being.

The probe substantiated two instances of witness intimidation, with 19 other witnesses fearing Anderson’s retaliation. He admitted to unwelcome sexual advances and comments toward seven young women — including sexual contact with two — while leading Never Again Colorado prior to joining the school board.

The months-long DPS investigation, triggered by allegations from BLM5280 in March 2021, concluded the most serious sexual assault claims were “not substantiated.” Nevertheless, it uncovered an indisputable pattern of grooming and predatory behavior — a stark reminder of unchecked power and privilege.

Anderson, it seems, would make inappropriate sexual advances and comments toward women and underage girls with impunity — and expect to get away with it.

His board colleagues censured him after the investigation, with Anderson himself the sole “no” vote. Still, it was only a censure — a simple slap on the wrist for a serial predator.

Anderson has defiantly clung to a litany of rehearsed lines: “I’ve taken accountability.” “I’ve apologized.” “I didn’t know she was only 16.”

Au contraire, Auon’tai: Accountability is more than just words — and words do not absolve you of grievous misdeeds.

Excuses have flowed freely from Anderson since I began closely covering his antics three years ago — but they offer no shield against the truth.

Anderson published a rap song, “Slavin’ Up in DPS,” and a reelection announcement video depicting a lynching — both of which trivialized the horrors of slavery and Jim Crow to cast himself as the victim of an unjust investigation.

In February 2022, Judge J. Eric Eliff dealt a significant blow to Anderson’s narrative. While ruling that DPS could not release an unredacted version of the ILG report — something Anderson has desperately wanted to keep private — the court debunked his central claim that the investigation was unwarranted.

“The bottom line is that Mr. Anderson was accused of serious recent sexual impropriety,” Eliff wrote. “There can be no serious dispute as to the authority of a school board to investigate claims of sexual assault and sexual harassment. … The failure to do so can lead to liability on the part of the school board.”

Throughout this inadvertent Tay takedown, the court’s language was unequivocal and almost dripping with contempt for Anderson’s arrogant arguments.

“His theory ignores entirely the purpose of an investigation,” the judge scathed. “Additionally, it is absurd to suggest, as Mr. Anderson does…”

Now, the spectacular award of legal fees to BLM5280 and Brown resoundingly rebukes Anderson’s flagrant attempt to discredit the investigation — solidifying the legitimacy of its findings.

Let’s be real: If Anderson truly believes he did nothing wrong, why the reluctance to release the unredacted ILG report? His refusal begs the question: What is he hiding?

Before leaving office, Anderson shook down Denver Public Schools into footing $3,500 of his own legal bills. In return, the district extracted a promise not to sue over the legitimate 2021 investigation.

Astonishingly, DPS caved to his demands. CFO Chuck Carpenter greenlit Anderson’s shakedown payment.

While Anderson can file an appeal within 49 days, it is confined solely to contesting the amount he owes. The judge’s calculations appear ironclad, and an appeal risks additional legal costs. Bankruptcy reportedly may be his only out.

As Anderson predicts his own legal fees could hit $100,000, though, he casually passes the buck — suggesting to The Denver Gazette that “others will be responsible” for the bills.

As I first asked years ago, who are these mysterious benefactors? Why does Anderson always expect “others” to pick up his tabs?

Let’s be serious: Auon’tai Anderson has evaded accountability for years. Dropping out of the school board race and quietly withdrawing from a state House bid shielded him from voters’ consequences.

At long last, a court has held Anderson accountable — but The Tay Show is far from over.

To be continued…

Jimmy Sengenberger is an investigative journalist, public speaker, and longtime local talk-radio host. Reach Jimmy online at Jimmysengenberger.com or on X (formerly Twitter) @SengCenter.