Mentoring Morsels

An interesting thing about the judge program is that a lot of the best practices are not codified in policy anywhere; instead, institutional knowledge is spread by word of mouth and direct mentorship. 

-Joe Wiesenberg, Feedbag #2: Tips of New Judges, The Feedback Loop

This past weekend I attended Dreamhack in Austin and worked as a part of the judge staff running Magic events.  In this role I ended up learning many things, but the most poignant lessons involved mentoring.

On Friday a local judge, Spin Rodriguez, took and passed his L1 test.  As a judge who had been certified for less than a month, I hardly qualified as a mentor; however in that month I had handled some very busy and complex FNMs, floor judged a PPTQ, attended a regional judge conference, and worked a Grand Prix. I was also studying for my L2 exam and working with several judges who had mentored me. So as strange as it seemed, I was able to pass along a few things I learned and hopefully make his introduction to the judge program a little bit smoother.

Our staff also included John Carter, an L3 from Seattle. Carter, as he prefers to be addressed, has worked for Wizards, head judged Grands Prix, invented new formats, and much more.  The opportunity to work closely with a Hall of Fame judge is pretty rare, therefore I was excited (and a bit nervous) for the opportunity.

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On Saturday, Carter told me to study state-based actions that he wanted to talk about them on Sunday. So Saturday night, after working the floor all day and getting to bed around midnight, I pulled out my phone and read (and re-read) the SBA section.  I quizzed myself and recited the rules out loud so that I would be completely prepared.

The next morning the staff reported 2 hours before our first event started, so Carter called me and Spin over and sat us in chairs facing him.  While I felt a little bit like a nervous middle schooler at a parent teacher conference, I also felt good about my knowledge and ready for the usual judge-style grilling. Then Carter turns to me as says, "Since you are working on your L2, part of your role will be mentoring new judges.  I want to hear you work with Spin on SBAs." Wait!  What!  That's not the questions I studied for! I felt a wave of terror course through my body and I briefly contemplated hiding under a nearby skirted table. I wanted to scream, 'you were supposed to be the one asking the questions! I only studied the answers!' Internally my fear, frustration, and anxiety threatened to overwhelm me, but I knew that the judge program relies on individuals who can preform under pressure so I suppressed the panic, took a deep breath, and turned to Spin. I started to walk him through the basic concepts of SBAs roughly following how the CR is written. I paid careful attention to his answers attempting to get a gauge on his understanding. It quickly became clear that Spin had a good grasp of SBAs and how they functioned, but his explanations lacked the detail and precision that higher level judges often demand. I felt like I handled the situation well with Carter interjecting as needed to ask the really good questions like, "Why are SBAs checked at those times?" Once we had completed a review of the basic SBA rules, then Carter hit me with, "Can you explain the philosophy behind state-based actions?"  Again, not in the CR! Luckily with a bit of quick thought I correctly articulated the 'janitor' concept.  I was quite shocked when Carter confirmed my correctness, and breathed a sigh of relief. Even as our discussion wrapped up my heart continued to race.

My takeaway from the conversation centered not on the mechanics of state-based actions, but on the importance of understanding the philosophy behind them. That subtle shift in my study tactics has proven to be the difference between frustration over the minute details and a deeper understanding of the concepts at hand.

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On Friday I seated my first ever (in my short judging career) draft. I received my list of players, counted and stacked my product, checked our assigned table number, collected my players and walked them over. I carefully seated each player going around in a circle, went through my zone draft spiel, then watched as they popped the first pack and began passing. After collecting trash and supervising all 3 packs, I left them alone to build their decks.  Carter called me over to where he was working and informed me that we usually seat drafts in a clockwise fashion.  (Note about me: I struggle with spatial concepts like left/right, clockwise/counterclockwise, etc.) I must have looked really lost, because he detailed that clockwise means it goes around in a circle like a clock.  I still had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't want to appear stupid, but he had inadvertently found a real challenge for me. I struggled to wrap my mind around what he was saying.  A flicker of understanding finally emerged and I questioned him about where I might find that information. He explained that many things, such as how to seat a draft, aren't actually written, but instead are best practices passed down from one judge to another.

One one hand, how frustrating!  The things I need to learn aren't available to me in a form that I can consume without assistance.  I hate appearing poorly in front of judges I am working with and I like to do everything 'right.' Not knowing what to do (and not being able to look it up) makes that pretty much impossible! On the other hand, I really enjoy working with my judge mentors. The lessons that they pass down to me each carry more than just information, they provide a framework for understanding the intangibles of judging. So after getting over being annoyed, I appreciated Carter helping me out with how to seat a draft.

On Sunday, I seated another draft.  I stood behind each chair announced the player's name, then moved clockwise around the table seating each one.  I felt pretty proud of myself as I took my place at the end of the table, standing between players 4 and 5.  (The rest of that draft turned out to be a disaster.  Read about it here.) Later that evening, Carter asked me about how I seated them. I explained what I had done and he added that it's customary to seat player 1 next to the judge and then go around the table such that players 4 and 5 are at the far end.  *sigh*  So much to learn.  I again thanked him for his assistance and made a mental note to be more observant of these details when I work with other judges.

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Sunday morning, I was selected to Head Judge a Competitive REL event for the first time in my judging career. Spin acted as my floor judge. Before the event I reminded him that since this is Comp REL, we don't intervene unless we plan to issue a penalty or the players are playing in a way which is unclear.  Due to the number of very new players we had been working with in our Regular REL events, this would constitute a drastic change from how we had been judging throughout the weekend.

In the middle of the first round Spin asks me to step away from the table with him. He explains that a creature with vigilance is attacking each turn and being tapped each time. I ask him what he did about it, and he replied, "Nothing. You said not to intervene except to give a penalty." I explained that it's a Game Rules Violation and should carry a penalty of a Warning. "Oh. I didn't think a warning was a penalty."  I quickly realized that as a new L1 his understanding of the IPG had not yet developed very much. While telling him that a Warning is a formal penalty that is issued and recorded, we were interrupted by a player in another match calling for a judge.

We went to the table together and the player explained that he had accidentally seen the 2nd card in his library while drawing a card. Both players agreed that the card sitting on top of the library was the card that he should draw and that the second card had been inadvertently seen. I followed the steps in my head: infraction, penalty, fix. I told the player, a grinder type who demonstrated familiarity with the situation, he would get a GPE-LEC penalty. I then walked him through the fix by placing the top card in his hand, and shuffling the unknown portion of his library. Both players agreed that no cards were legally known, so he shuffled the entire thing and presented it for the opponent to cut. I picked up their match slip, flipped it over to the back and demonstrated to Spin how to record a penalty.

Then Spin and I left the table together.  The interruption had provided an excellent opportunity for him to see issuing a penalty from the judge perspective. We went to the table where the vigilance creature had been tapping to attack, but unfortunately it was no longer on the battlefield.

The incident overall taught me that I needed to be more careful talking to newer judges. Details like that a Warning is an actual penalty, not just a simple verbal thing require a much better explanation from me. Thinking about it, the word warning carries a pretty clear meaning in the English language and it carries a different and much more specific meaning in the IPG. Since Spin's previous experience was solely at Regular REL events, he wouldn't have known that. I realized that learning to be a good mentor might be as important of a skill as delivering a correct ruling.

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The weekend ended as all good judging weekends should, with me and Spin in a bar having a drink and debriefing. We talked about rules, and the draft, and events we hope to work together at in the future. It reminded me of sitting in a bar in Albuquerque a few weeks ago with Carter when he asked me if I had any feedback about that weekend. That conversation began a wonderful friendship and mentorship and I hoped that this conversation would as well. Spin and I have plans for a game of Judge tower when he's in town in a few weeks!

Carter and I

Magicversary

One year ago today was the beginning of my Magic journey.

Now technically I had played Magic before.  I had tried it out with some of my husband's buddies, and I had been to a grand total of 4 FNMs. All of those times involved me cluelessly piloting decks through a bunch of interactions of which I possessed no comprehension. It felt like "magic" because my opponents did all kinds of crazy things that I couldn't explain and that made no logical sense.

A year ago today, my husband and I attended Grand Prix Las Vegas.  I actually went to watch him play, and then decided to sign up because he had paid for Platinum Planeswalker Registration. This entitled him to use a VIP lounge.  I literally entered the tournament so that I could accompany him into this lounge.  By 'lounge' I actually mean a mostly curtained off area on the floor with a few tables and chairs.  The best surprise of the weekend is that this 'lounge' also contained a nice lady with a small oven who handed out freshly baked cookies all day. Additionally popcorn provided the salty complement to the sweet cookies. The cookies alone made the extra $70ish worth it!

Because I didn't want to embarrass myself too badly at this event, my husband helped me study beforehand.  We looked at spoilers and he explained to me the deck archtypes in the set.  Luckily, this sealed event didn't require me to bring (or own) a deck. It did however require me to know enough to build one in 45 minutes given a pool of cards.

Also, to add to the fun, my husband's team graciously gave me a T-shirt. I in no way earned this shirt, but I had at least met one of the guys before. It may be a silly thing, but wearing the team shirt made me feel important, and thus I felt more inclined to play better.

We signed up for a Sealed Trial, which would simulate the Grand Prix conditions. It required building a deck from a pool of cards. but no one told me that we had to open the packs and register a list. So while opening 6 packs of cards and marking them on a sheet of paper sounds simple enough, it proved to be enough to place me in a panic. I followed the instructions for opening, sorting, alphabetizing, and marking the cards on the list, but I did so at a snail's pace.  I focused on the wrong things because I had no idea which things mattered. When we were supposed to be finished, I had to raise my hand and wait for a judge to watch me as I did the last cards. (Waiting for the judge made me take even longer, and that guy was intimidating!).  By the time I tried to start building a deck, I was more likely to have a coronary condition than to clearly evaluate a card pool.  I at least got colors I knew how to play (Bant) and managed to put together a decent deck. When I won the first match, I was elated! I had already exceeded my wildest expectations.  I lost round 2. I won 3 and 4, and drew in round 5 for a record of 3-1-1. That led to significant prize tix and me leaving with a sense of accomplishment.

As we returned to our hotel that afternoon, my feelings about the game had changed. It went from something foreign and difficult to something I could do. That tiny taste of success left me with a longing that could not be easily satisfied.  That evening we attended a broadway show, but my mind wandered to the cards and I contemplated ways to optimize my deck.  Over dinner, we talked about playing in more events the following day and planned how to spend our days at the GP.  In bed that night, I drifted off to sleep with artifacts and Tarmagoyfs dancing in my head.

I wish I could tell you that the rest of the weekend I played well . . .  but beginner's luck ran out rather quickly. I only amassed a total of 3 more wins over the next 3 days combined. It didn't matter though, when we returned home, my passion remained and I attended the next 2 FNMs before taking a break to have a baby.

This past year has brought me form clueless Magic novice to L1 judge looking to test for L2. I have learned so much about the game, but also about myself. My judge mentor and I chatted one day about my history and his comment was, "I'm surprised you stuck with it."  In truth, I am too!  It was a rocky road faced with challenges due to having a family and trying to find time to play, being a minority (female), and a complete lack of understanding or experience.  I've developed my rules knowledge, but also my perseverance over the past 12 months. Through the ups and downs of winning and losing, and passing and failing, through crazy trips with even crazier roommates (GP Houston), through late nights, early mornings, good pulls and bad plays, this first year of Magic has been a year of growth, learning, and change.  The lessons I have learned and the friends I have made will last a lifetime, and I hope that my Magic career will as well.


A special thanks to my Magic friends: Cole, Jackson, Shannon, Avery, Michael, and pretty much everyone at FNM. To Chris at Area 51 for giving me that first chance to judge a FNM. To my judge friends: Ben Zeero, Antonio Zanutto, Mitchell Nitz, Trevor Nunez (daggers!), Spin Rodriguez, and everyone in USA South Slack. To the Cascade Games guys for the fun times in Albuquerque and Austin: Tim Shields, Kyle Knudson, and John Cater. To my judge mentors: David Carroll, Jim Shuman, and especially Josh McCurley. And most of all to my husband: Brian Leonard. Without these guys I might have made it this far (ok, unlikely), but it certainly wouldn't have been as much fun.  Looking forward to many more years of making Magic memories with you guys!

I messed up the draft!

A few weeks ago I judged Magic events a non-Magic convention. We were kinda a sidenote, and not many players knew of our presence. We had a lot of folks drop in and say, "Wow, I wish I had known. I would have brought my stuff." Even so, we ran quite a few events and had a lot of fun. Most of our events were casual and run at Regular REL. However, we offered 1 premier event . . .

On Sunday, we held a championship event consisting of a draft for the Top 8 players from Saturday's 2 qualifier events. Competitive REL was used since this was a major event for very significant prize support (5th-8th got a box . . .). As a new judge, I hoped to be selected to run this event and gain some experience at Comp REL. Our Event Manager started to run it himself, but then asked if L1s could do it. I volunteered that I could run a GPT, so I should be able to do this too. (Probably reaching a bit here, since I had never even been on the floor at a Competitive event, but excitement got the best of me.) Luckily, he told me I could!

I had prepared the night before by looking over the IPG, and after seating a draft incorrectly on Friday, I had been taught how to do it correctly. I gathered my product, prepared the table, and printed seatings.

A diverse group of players greeted me. A 12 year old, 2 guys who had never played in a competitive event, a guy who had never drafted, a guy whose English was not strong, a grinder type, and an L2. All were excited to be there and eager to get started. I seated them clockwise around the table as I had been instructed and carefully explained how a draft works. I asked if there were questions, and answered them. They seemed eager to get started.

I instructed them to open the first pack and remove the basic land card, token, and/or checklist card and set those aside. Then I asked them to verify that they had 14 cards. Most nodded or mumbled affirmatively. I collected the trash while they announced their double faced cards. Then instructed them to select a card and place it in facedown in front of them. Then they passed to the left and the draft began. I watched closely as they selected a card and passed the remaining ones. They were careful to zone draft and not let any packs get messed up along the way.

Then a player stopped and started counting cards. He had passed 2 cards twice in a row. Somehow a card was missing. We checked and the other packs remaining all had the correct number of cards. The players counted their piles of drafted cards. All were correct. Finally we located the missing card in a pile of lands and tokens. Unsure of what to do, I consulted a nearby L3. He told me to return the card to its proper pack and continue drafting. I looked at the card and it was a common that likely would not have been drafted by this point anyway. I still felt terrible about the mistake, but didn't know what to do but make the best of things.

After that pack, I repeated my instructions about verifying that there were 14 cards before passing the pack and reminded the players to keep their drafted cards in a single facedown pile in front of them.

We opened the 2nd pack and the Event Manager sent an L1 judge over to Floor Judge for me. I stationed him at the other end of the table so that we could see everything better. The players opened pack 2, verified 14 cards and revealed the DFCs. L1 picked up the trash and walked to the trash can to toss it. This pack seemed to be going more smoothly. I focused on my 4 players leaving the far end of the table to L1. Somehow it happened again. Around the 4-6 cards left in each pack point, players started pointing out that cards were missing. Investigation revealed 3 missing cards from 2 different players. Another L2 came over to investigate. A player then told him that he had seen some cards on an opponent's playmat and had told the opponent to put all the cards in his drafted pile. We asked all the players to count their cards, and the player who had misplaced the card in pack one reported have 3 too many cards in his pile. The L2 examined the player's pile and easily identified 3 cards that would not have been drafted given the rest of the cards. L2 took those cards, randomized them, and gave them to the players missing cards. The draft continued, but it had a more ominous feel to it.

Pack 3 went without incident, but 4 judges camped at the table. Then we let the players spread out for deck construction. We worked to explain how decklists functioned and supervise the players as necessary. After the construction period ended, the FJ and I handled the rest of the event with no other major incidents. Overall the players seemed a bit miffed by the draft, but pleased as they left with their boxes of cards and other goodies.

I, on the other hand, felt sick over the entire incident. I couldn't identify my mistakes in handling the draft. Frustration over it happening twice overwhelmed me. I replayed each moment over and over in my head trying to see what I could have done better. Self-evaluation is both a blessing and a curse sometimes.

That evening I met with L3 to talk about what happened. He walked me through the event step by step. His conclusion was, "You didn't mess up the draft. The players did." As the judge, I felt responsible for the players, so wasn't that still me?  He stated that I had done everything correctly including seating them properly, instruction them to count the cards, and watching them closely. He also pointed out that every player had passed the defective packs at least once each time. Now noticing that you passed 12 cards twice in a row might be hard. But players passed 3 cards twice in a row and didn't mention it. I started to feel a little better, but deep down it still ate at me.

After returning home, I discussed the incident with my judge mentor. His exact words, "You didn't mess up the draft."  Ok, he didn't say 'mess,' but for the sake of this blog . . . .  He even pointed out that the L2 and L3 judges in attendance had already told me it wasn't my fault. My husband (L2) and a couple of other L2 friends all told me the same thing. But it didn't matter, no amount of people telling me not to blame myself took the guilt off my shoulders. L3 later pointed out that the players still had fun and that perhaps I hadn't been set up for success with that particular group of players. While all of their words made sense, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something.

Fast forward 3 weeks: While studying the IPG before running a GPT at my local store, I found the answer I had been looking for . . . *lightbulb moment.* If this were a movie you would see a bright light and hear that "ahhh" otherworldly sound right now.

That's what I should have done.  I could have given the player who misplaced the first card a warning. That would have emphasized to him that he needed to be more careful and it would have given the other players a sense that the player had received an appropriate penalty. It would have demonstrated that I as the judge had the situation under control and that it had been dealt with.  Then when it occurred again in the second pack, it would have been upgraded to a Game Loss. While issuing penalties is never fun, it does provide a way to 'right the wrong' that has occurred in an event and allow the players to see that a solution is taking place.

When I asked my judge mentor about it he agreed that I should have given the penalties. He also said, "I cannot explain why I did not mention that to you previously." I also find it odd that none of the 6 judges (all L2+) with whom I have spoken about this draft mentioned this particular rule to me. One suggested that it's so rarely used that most everyone forgets about it.  Perhaps he is right?

In the end, I'm glad I found it.  I feel a measure of pride in being able to find the answer to a question that has haunted me for weeks now. It affirms my worth as a judge when I am able to evaluate my own failure and create a plan for future success. Mostly, I'm just glad to have the closure I needed and to allow my brain to let go of this incident and move on.

I'd like to add a special thanks to all of judges that have listened to me rant about this draft.  I appreciate your listening ears and your kind words. However, despite what all of you said, I DID MESS UP THE DRAFT!