Pedants care about distinctions without differences. Or do we?
Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary offers five definitions (plus three sub-definitions) for the adjective "verbal":
1 a: of, relating to, or consisting of words <verbal instructions> b: of, relating to, or involving words rather than meaning or substance <a consistency that is merely verbal and scholastic — B. N. Cardozo> c: consisting of or using words only and not involving action <verbal abuse>
2: of, relating to, or formed from a verb <a verbal adjective>
3: spoken rather than written <a verbal contract>
4: verbatim, word-for-word <a verbal translation>
5: of or relating to facility in the use and comprehension of words <verbal aptitude>
Just one — the third — covers verbal explicitly in its legal aspect. And it deploys the word in the way that irritates purists like Blawgletter.
We never say "verbal contract" when we mean an oral one. But does parking verbal in front of "contract" or "agreement" really deserve condemnation? Calling a document "verbal" doesn’t introduce ambiguity; we know the person means "oral", "unwritten", or "parol" and not simply that the document uses words.
So why does it annoy? Because, we think, it offends a lawyerly preference for precision. And we respectfully recommend that you insist on precision in your own word work if for no other reason than that failure to do so will bother the language curmudgeons who read or audit your verbal constructions. Including judges.
But note that the detection of inconsequential errors in others profits you nothing. Pointing it out gains you even less — winning you no friends, influencing you no people favorably, and pegging you as a hopeless pedant.