Fall River, Mass. - Prosecutors are grinding out the evidence against fallen football star Aaron Hernandez in painstaking increments related to clothing fibers, tire treads and blue bubble gum, and the media are providing a play-by-play commentary.

Fifteen reporters filled two rows of benches in Justice E. Susan Garsh's courtroom one day last week, sitting within about 15 feet of the tight end from Bristol, Conn., who had lived every high school athlete's dream before he was charged with three murders.

News trucks lined the street behind the courthouse, and in the lobby defendants arriving for their own cases checked one another to be sure they weren't wearing any New England Patriots gear, since football logos have been banned by the judge for the duration of the trial.

The 25-year-old former Patriot is on trial for the June 17, 2013, shooting death of 27-year-old Odin Lloyd, a semi-pro football player from Dorchester who was dating the sister of Hernandez's fiancee. He wears a black business suit and a relaxed demeanor at the defense table.

The case proceeds like any other, with hours of tedious testimony punctuated by moments of drama. Unlike most cases, the defendant is a celebrity, and Boston news outlets are in attendance, along with CNN, Reuters and The Associated Press.

On Friday, those who watched a live video feed of the trial or are following it on Twitter learned, at the same time as the jury, that DNA from Hernandez and from the victim were on a marijuana blunt found at the crime scene. They also learned Hernandez's DNA was on a .45-caliber shell casing found in a car he had rented that night, but that the state failed to conduct DNA testing of a wad of blue gum that was stuck to the casing.

Having collected some of his five-year, $40 million contract with the Patriots before they released him, Hernandez had the money to hire some of the top criminal defense lawyers in the state: attorneys Charles Rankin, James Sultan and Michael Fee.

"He's got a good team assembled, and I'm sure they're doing the best they can," Karen Picket, a trial attorney from Boston, said during a phone interview. "It's tough on a defense attorney when you have what people perceive to be an open-and-shut case. Maybe you have evidence to contradict the prosecution's theory, but if you don't, you have to whittle away bit by bit at the prosecutor's case."

Dramatic moments, such as the potential testimony from Hernandez's fiancee, Shayanna Jenkins, Patriots head coach Bill Belichick or team owner Robert Kraft, have not occurred as of Day 22. Jenkins, Belichick and Kraft are on the state's witness list, but it is not clear whether they will be called to the witness stand before prosecutors rest their case.

In the courtroom, the only sound from the gathered journalists is the clatter of their keyboards, having been warned by the no-nonsense judge and the white-shirted court officers that disruptions will not be tolerated. The judge has vigilantly maintained courtroom decorum. One day, she ordered the victim's mother not to cry on the witness stand, according to news accounts. She also admonished one of Hernandez's attorneys for making a joke about deflated footballs.

By lunchtime one day last week, the keyboard clatter had slowed, jurors were yawning and even the lawyers were glancing at the clock. The more interesting case, at least on this day, was in the state capital, where Dzhokar Tsarnaev is on trial for the Boston Marathon bombing, and journalists were following Twitter to keep up with the opening statements.

There have been other days of less-than-riveting developments. "You missed the phone records," a veteran of the first 19 days of the trial told a reporter there for the first time. The prosecution had spent hours eliciting testimony about cellphone calls and towers that showed Hernandez and Lloyd had been texting back and forth that night and that Hernandez was in the area of the shooting when it occurred.

The "big moment" on this day consisted of an argument conducted outside the presence of the jury about whether the defense had "opened the door" to testimony about Hernandez's alleged shooting of a friend, Alexander Bradley, in Florida.

The judge's ruling - a win for Hernandez - was broadcast and tweeted to the world as it occurred. Garsh said she would continue to disallow testimony about the shooting despite prosecutor William McCauley's argument that defense attorney Fee, in his opening statement, had "beat the drum" of the alleged friendship between Hernandez and Lloyd, referring to it 32 times.

"The Commonwealth's argument is utterly frivolous, that Mr. Hernandez has a propensity to shoot his friends," Sultan argued for the defense.

The media and public are privy to information that is not supposed to reach the jury members, and the judge reminds them daily not to read, listen to or watch any coverage of the case. Sultan, complaining that the motion should have been filed under seal, told the judge the media had reported "quite breathlessly" on the issue.

"We all live in the real world," Sultan argued. "Information is ubiquitous, and frankly it's hard to believe that when something like this is put out there, nothing will filter to the jury."

Richard Taskin, a criminal defense attorney in North Adams, Mass., who is quick to point out that he's not closely following the trial, though he would be if it involved a member of the Red Sox, said it's hard to imagine that the nonstop coverage doesn't reach the jury.

"It makes it hard to get a totally neutral jury that's oblivious to any external influence," Taskin said in a phone interview Thursday.

Another challenge is the so-called "CSI Effect," in which jurors who watch TV crime dramas think they know how forensic science works in real life.

"The standards they bring to bear often are unreasonable in terms of what they expect the investigators to do," Taskin said.

The jury perked up late Wednesday when a prosecutor rolled a tire from a rented Nissan into the courtroom and elicited testimony from a state trooper who analyzed the treads, but they had grown weary by Thursday afternoon.

"Jurors looking in all different directions. Eye rubs, neck stretches. Has to be hard to remain attentive," Adam Bagni, a reporter for NBC10, tweeted from inside the courtroom.

While the testimony may not always be riveting, the court officer's closing call and the resounding bang of his gavel are impressive.

"God save the Commonwealth of Massachusetts," he says, and Hernandez, who once had the run of every football stadium in the nation, is led back to confinement until his next day in court.

The trial is set to continue Monday.

k.florin@theday.com

Twitter:@KFLORIN