As I pulled into the parking lot, I looked at the manicured gardens, the inviting patio, and the buildings set behind a beautiful stone bridge and decided that I must be in the wrong place. This enchanting location couldn't be
Pat’s Games, a Magic shop in Austin, TX. Then JD Smith, a judge friend from Dreamhack and the other floor judge for this event, walked towards my car waving. I parked and hopped out looking around in awe. JD quickly introduced me to Jim, and Jim started explaining the names for the different parts of the store I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. I could do little more than stare in wonder at the picturesque setting that rapidly filled with the usual t-shirt wearing, backpack-toting Magic player crowd. We moved to sit in comfortable office chairs around a folding table on a pretty raised patio overlooking the area and chatted pleasantly.
Head Judge David Hibbs arrived soon thereafter, and led us into a portion of the shop called The Castle. It turned out to be a mostly regular Magic shop, with a few cool additions. The walls boasted beautiful murals and artwork in addition to the normal posters and goodies from previous sets and pre-releases. A large red sofa occupied a prominent position and an adorable dog perched on the end of it for passers-by to pet. Behind the counter a dizzying array of well-organized Magic cards and products filled large open racks, while at the tables sat players in various states of filling out decklists. JD and I copied David dropping our bags behind the counter and congregating at a nearby table. Pat, the owner, introduced herself and offered us breakfast tacos. Jim, who turned out to be an employee, pointed out various drinks and snacks available to us. Logan, the scorekeeper, happily greeted players, entered them into WER, and handed them each a decklist.
David invited us to join him outside saying, "Smart judges sit down when they can." Our judge meeting took place at a cute patio table as we relaxed under the pergola. It felt funny to hear the usual stuff about Game Losses, tardiness times, and backups at a table more fit for having tea, but it constituted a good kind of different. The whole place had an air of tranquility that suggested enjoying the experience as much as the result.
David's laid back attitude fit perfectly with the setting. He expected things to go well, expected JD and I to perform well, and didn't need to encourage, threaten, or admonish like some leaders. He simply did his job while we did ours. And not surprisingly, things went well.
We slipped back inside to pick up pairings and cut slips before returning to the main patio for an outdoor player meeting. David stood on a small brick step and spoke loudly to the assembled players. His red USA-South regional polo stood out against the grey ones JD and I sported as he introduced us. He explained the usual information about tardiness, Competitive REL, and calling a judge, but added that tables in the Clubhouse building would be numbered 123-130, however those would correspond to table numbers 23-30 on the pairings sheets. While he spoke, JD hung the pairings on a wooden post behind the gathered players.
Due to the multi-building setup, David opted to have decklists collected after players sat for the first round. JD picked up the ones from the Clubhouse while David took tables 9-22 on one side of The Castle, and I rounded the couch to collect from tables 1-8 on the other side. David and JD handed me their piles, and while round 1 began, I set to work alphabetizing them. I discovered 3 no-names, so I took the alphabetical player list and began my detective work. One list had the 'deck designer' listed as 'Tim Brown,' but the player's last initial filled in as an H. *sigh* After confirming with the 3 no-names that I had correctly identified their lists, I went in search of the last missing decklist. The player at table 13 quickly apologized and handed it over when I approached him. I slid the neat pile into the accordion file and headed onto the floor to watch some Magic.
My first call came almost immediately. Jim, the store employee, called me to table 2 where he explained that he drew a card from his opponent's library. I noted his black sleeves and his opponent's green ones as I looked at their libraries stacked side-by-side. He elaborated that on his draw for turn he had simply reached to the wrong pile. His opponent confirmed the story. Looking at Extra Cards (LEC) sprang to my brain. I asked the opponent if he knew the position of any cards in his library. He explained that he had just fetched so no cards were known, except that he had seen the card Jim drew. Since it was an odd situation I quickly conferred with David who agreed with my ruling and fix. I returned to the table and issued the GPE-LEC Warning and had the opponent shuffle.
The rest of the round progressed smoothly and ended early. As round 2 opened, David asked me to swoop table 12 for a deck check. I passed out slips, careful to note the names of the players at table 12, then busied myself at the deck check station right behind them while waiting for them to present. As soon as I saw the 2 decks in the middle of the battlefield, I stopped them just before they reached for each other's decks and informed them of the deck check. Nerves threatened my first ever swoop, but I handled it well. I asked each player's name and placed player 1's deckbox in my hand with the slip (Thanks Adena for the tip!) so that I would not mix them up.
I bustled back to the station and handed David a box as I pulled the decklists from the accordion file. He went to work sorting his deck to check it in the traditional way, while I employed the Polish method of checking the deck by flipping over each card and tallying it on the decklist without changing the order of the deck. Despite the fact that David took a brief judge call during the check, we finished quickly and both decks passed. I returned the decks to the players with instructions to shuffle thoroughly and added an eigtht-minute time extension to their match slip.
On my next judge call, Albert played a
Snapcaster Mage, and asked if he could pay the Phyrexian mana cost to cast a
Gitaxian Probe using the flashback ability. I surprised myself by quickly answering yes and explaining that the Phyrexian mana cost could still be paid either with {U} or with 2 life. My own surety and confidence felt odd, as it replaced my usual feelings of self-doubt and anxiety.
Another fun call: Adonis called a judge because he wanted to cast
Engineered Explosives while Noel controlled a
Thalia, making his non-creature spells cost one more to cast. Adonis inquired if the {1} he paid for Thalia's ability still counted towards the number of colors for the Sunburst ability. I assured him that it does, again confidently knowing the answer without the nagging doubts.
During the round, David pulled me aside and inquired about my deck check method. He revealed his preference for the traditional method, but instructed me to do whichever I could do the fastest. Since a judge I often work with requests the Polish method, I have much more practice with it, but I certainly wanted to adhere to the Head Judge's directive as well. I decided to give the traditional method a try for the next round.
As an interesting caveat to this event, players could move their matches each round. As I passed out slips, players would wait at their table, then take the slip and go play on the patio, in another room, or wherever they chose. David noted in his opening announcement that this practice would be acceptable as long as they informed a judge prior to moving. When players let me know, I noted their table number and new location in a small notebook for later reference.
Table 4 came up on the die David rolled to select our round 3 deck check. Well, table 4 had a player in the restroom, so he instructed me to take table 5. Seeing no one at that table, I checked my notes and sure enough, they had moved their match outside. I let David know, and he pointed at 6. Finally, a table with two players presenting decks! I moved to grab them as the players began to draw opening hands, and was quick enough to avoid the players actually getting any cards. While we checked the decks, I noted the sleeves were a bit worn and seemed to be marked with sticky globs of dirt. David took a look and showed me that the dirt clods are easily correctible and therefore not a concern, but that the uneven wear made frequently manipulated cards easy to identify. Since no clear advantage could be gained from it, he had me issue Aric a TE:Marked Cards Warning and ask him to resleeve after the round. While he appeared none too happy, Aric politely accepted the warning and nine-minute time extension.
About halfway through the round, a spectator hurried up to me and asked me to come to a table where he had paused a match. He informed me that both players had cast noncreature spells and that neither had paid the {1} extra for
Thalia. Arthur explained that he had just cast
Terminus for its miracle cost and that he did not think he had to pay the extra mana due to the alternative cost. Nick chimed in that he only plays Thalia in his sideboard and had forgotten to pay it for his spell as well. I quickly realized that this complicated situation would require a backup and went to inform David. I double checked with him that the {1} extra did indeed apply to the miracle cost and we he replied that it did I let him know that he was needed to resolve the situation. After he spoke with both players he had them each simply pay the additional mana since both players had it available. As we left the table, David told me to give them each a single GRV.
Towards the end of the round, I hung out near table 6, the only table still playing in that section of The Castle, and overheard Aric say, "We got screwed by the judges." He elaborated that they should have received a fifteen minute time extension after their deck check. His opponent pointed out that I stood directly behind him. His glance back at me revealed a face that suggested perhaps his comment wasn't the brightest idea. I opted not to intervene at that point since I did not want to further delay the match. What I should have done is spoken to the player later and let him know that he could have spoken up when I issued the extension if he believed it to be incorrect. Looking back, I wish I had handled that better, but I'm glad that I did not overreact.
After table 6 finished up with a few minutes left on their time extension, I handed the scorekeeper the slip saying, that's the last one." His replied that table 7 was still out. I looked at the empty table 7, and then it hit me. I flipped open my notebook to see
7-clubhouse. I informed David then scurried across the bridge and up the ramp, quickly pulling open the door to the back room of the clubhouse. There sat table 7 unaware that time had been called 9 minutes ago. Luckily they finished up as I approached them and quickly signed and handed me the slip. I made a mental note to do a quick end-of-round check for the rest of the day.
During a nice quiet lull in round 4, David called me to him away from the players. With no fanfare he stated, "Some people like Noonies enjoy giving daggers to candidates, but I like to just have people explain things to me. So can you tell me the steps to casting a spell?" I fought back the panic - he had given me no indication all day that he had any knowledge or interest in me as a judge beyond my position for the day. I guess all judges have their ways of putting a candidate on the spot. (Also thanks to David Carroll right here. He had made me memorize and write the steps to casting a spell. His grillings prepared me for this moment.) While my mind raced, at least a shred of my memory remained and I got the first step - announce the spell and put it on the stack - out of my mouth. I slowly, clumsily managed to regurgitate the rest of the steps. David seemed mostly satisfied, but he asked for more detail, which I was unable to provide. Embarrassment clouded my thoughts and I wished that I had studied more. Luckily his next question focused on layers, which I nailed. He then moved on to static effects, where I failed miserably. He concluded our conversation by saying that he thought I knew more than many newer L1s, but that I needed to incorporate more detail. I secretly added that I was proud of surviving the conversation without wetting my pants. It wasn’t the first time an L3 had put me on that spot verbally like that with no warning, and I'm sure it won't be the last. After each experience, I refine my skills in both understanding the rules and policies and in conveying those understandings clearly and accurately. I'm also committed that next time, I'll answer more thoroughly.
By round 5, enough players had dropped that all the matches started out in The Castle, so all three judges remained in the same room. JD covered the floor while David and I enjoyed delicious sandwiches from a small shop nearby. After finishing lunch, I casually watched some Magic when Jim answered a call on the store phone. He then called out that it was a phone-in judge call. It took him telling me the second time to realize what he was saying: a match that moved to The Clubhouse had called in requesting a judge. Then he nudged me and said to head over there. I flew out the door, flustered that I had had to be told three times before understanding the situation. When I arrived at The Clubhouse, the players awaited me, seemingly not noticing the oddity that they had used a telephone to procure a judge.
Anson showed me a
Dimir Charm, which he had cast on Neil's
Monastery Mentor, choosing to 'destroy target creature with power 2 or less.' In response Neil had cast
Brainstorm triggering prowess. I breathed an inward sigh of relief that I knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. Then Anson asked, "So since it won't kill that guy anymore, can I choose a different target?" I almost laughed; not the question I expected! I felt a little bit bad explaining to him that his spell would be countered by the rules of the game since it no longer had a legal target, and that he could not change the target.
As most players do, he respectfully accepted my answer and thanked me. As a newer judge I had really expected a lot more resistance from players when rulings don't go in their favor. In fact, I have experienced quite the opposite! Players seem genuinely interested in understanding the game and playing it correctly; they just don't know the rules or understand how to apply them. As a judge I provide education and customer service to allow them to play and enjoy their game. It's a great fit for my personality, and as my rules knowledge improves, my skills as a judge will continue to grow.
Later, I took a call from Abby regarding a
Flickerwisp. She asked if it would return immediately since it was cast during an end step. I glanced briefly at the card before explaining that it would be returned at the beginning of the next end step. I made the ruling confidently remembering receiving the same call the week before. Unfortunately at the previous event I had gotten it wrong, then looked up the Oracle text for the card and changed my ruling. This time, I knew it. Unfortunately my ruling was unclear to the players because the Flickerwisp in question was from the Eventide set and did not have the errata text on it. As I left the table David simply held up his phone showing me the Oracle text. The realization crashed down on me that I should have showed that to the player to clarify the situation. I appreciated David's subtle yet effective way to point out my mistake and show me how to do it better. No words needed.
As the 6th and final round began, David asked me to hang out near the top tables and listen for any sketchy conversations. He passed out the slips as I lingered nearby. Table 1 quickly decided to ID, as did table 2. However, table 2 accidentally filled out table 3's slip. With the table space limited, at least one match had been relocating each round so the table numbers were set oddly making the mistake difficult to catch. While table 2 handed me the slip, table 3 could not find theirs and needed it since they wanted to go outside. I caught the table 2 players and had them complete the correct slip while I noted on table 3's slip that it was not an ID. I asked table 3 to give their slip directly to me at the end of the round so that I could ensure that the scorekeeper understood the mess. Table 3 then went outside, but returned a short time later saying that they had decided to ID as well. Allowing them to reach that conclusion outside felt suspect, but since it had been the policy all day to allow relocation, David and I agreed that nothing could be done about it.
The round went smoothly and ended just before 4:00. Wow! We just ran 6 rounds in under 6 hours. David guided the players through a prize split vote, and they opted to split. So we were done! There was never any mention of hurrying or slow play, we simply did our jobs efficiently, and the players did, too. My leadership lesson for the day: expect excellence. (Don't demand it.)
During the round Abby approached me and asked about being a judge. I gave her my standard spiel about setting up a Judge Center account and taking a practice test. I then gave her my contact info. (This allows an interested candidate to explore the process as well as puts the responsibility on them to contact me if they want to pursue the idea. Most never do.) The difference between this and most of these impromptu chats was the way she asked, "Could I test with you?" while looking at the other judges with a skeptical eye. I generally abhor being seen as a 'female judge,' however this instance caused me to ponder. As a hopefully soon-to-be L2, perhaps I could offer more to the program by offering female players a role model of sorts.
While the players were collecting their prize money, David turned to me and said, "I didn't think we'd have time for any testing today, but we're done early. I know they want to close up here, but if you want to follow me back to my house, you can take your L2 today." Floored. I had come to the event expecting to get to know David with the hope that if things went well maybe asking him to possibly test me some time in the future. The abstract just became concrete. I asked him for a few minutes to consider. My judge mentor Josh had said that I would know when I was ready. David Carroll and other judge friends had been encouraging me to test, but all of them had said that the readiness had to be my decision.
As I reflected on my day, I felt the fundamental shift. My calls had gone well, and I hadn't made any major mistakes. My confidence had increased as had my comfort level on the floor. I had taken on new tasks (a swoop!), learned new things, and worked with new people - and it felt good. My conversation with David had gone well enough that he believed me to be ready enough to test. My mind raced through thoughts of passing and of failing, and I knew that I could live with either outcome.
David and I talked about my last L2P. I scored an unimpressive 72, but studied a lot in the month since then. I also do better on paper than on the computerized practice tests. JD and Pat overheard and both encouraged me to do it. David stopped them saying something about not wanting to pressure me. I felt oddly encouraged by the level of respect for me that he showed with that comment. I considered the opportunity as a whole: I was already in Austin and would not have to make another trip, I could test in the privacy of his home, which is far less stressful for me than at a big event, and really, I was ready. Some part of me had secretly hoped for the opportunity to present itself, I just didn't anticipate it coming so soon. Realizing that I should take advantage of the situation that I worked so hard to create for myself, I made up my mind to do it.
I took a deep breath, tried not to look terrified, and told David that if I could use a half hour or so to study, then I would be ready to test. Pat offered to let us stay in the store, but David explained how long the test takes. He did ask to use her printer since the 50 questions cover a lot of paper. Seeing those pages in his hand make me feel ill. My fate had already been decided - I just didn't yet know what it would be. JD wished me good luck and I promised to let him know how it turned out.
Climbing into my car, I was almost too nervous to drive. I called my husband and tried to calm my frantic nerves as I drove. I requested that he text me a copy of my study sheet, which I had neglected to bring, so I could review it. I followed David mindlessly, paying no attention to where we were going and until he parked his car. I lost track of time. I opted not to tell anyone that I was testing so that I could test and process the results myself before handling the social interactions. I felt a twinge of regret at not telling the guys who had mentored me, but that time had passed anyway and David waited on his porch.
I grabbed my backpack and followed him into a beautiful spacious home. He introduced me to his family before taking me upstairs to settle on a comfortable sofa. I opted to change into my shorts and McCurley's Minions t-shirt and then got to work writing and rewriting my notes sheet. David Carroll had taught me to write out the steps to casting a spell, layers, replacement effects, and basically the entire IPG and then use those notes on the exam. I reread a few passages in the CR and packed everything into my backpack. I headed downstairs in search of David and found him reading through my test.
He took me back to the table upstairs in his amazingly well-stocked Magic loft and gave me his standard instruction spiel, a pile of basic lands, and the thick stack of paper which comprised the test. I set it aside, took up a sheet of blank paper and wrote out my notes sheet confidently. Then I took a deep breath and read the first question. Great - a question about an enchanted land getting copied. These are literally my worst question type. Layers and lands - yuck. The feeling of defeat threatened to overtake me. I chose an answer, wrote a question mark to remind me to come back to it later and moved on.
As I proceeded through the questions, his sweet cat joined me on the couch. Petting a stress-relieving purring ball of fun can make anything less stressful. While I panicked on a few early questions, it did seem to get easier. Around number 14 David came upstairs to check on me and invite me to join his family for dinner. While the barbecue smelled delicious, I didn't want to lose my focus, so I regretfully declined and kept working.
At the halfway mark, I set the test aside, got up for a stretch and a restroom break. When I returned, David was standing there checking on me again. While he seemed sweet and kind, he made me nervous too. I made a mental note that testing at a home is so much less scary than testing at a big event with lots of people around!
I settled back in to finish the test, although I did have a brief break when a cat curled up on my paper. I answered each question then marked whether I considered it complete or wanted to give it another look later. When I got to the policy section at the end, I relaxed. I'm much better at policy than CR. Thankfully may pace picked up too. My brain felt fried.
After completing my first trip through the test, I took another brief break then fought the temptation to just call it done. I forced myself to go back to each question I had marked and review the answer if needed as I transferred my selections to the answer document.
Question 23 stumped me. I had no idea of the rule that applied. So I elected to use what I knew of the game and selected the answer that seemed right. I couldn't justify it really, but it was more of a gut feeling. I could hear Carter's voice in my head saying, "What makes sense?" just as he had when I had asked him for advice on scenarios while studying. I had gone with that on several questions, but this one seemed the most difficult.
I completed the bubbling, stacked my papers neatly then took a few minutes to mentally debrief myself. I realized that either way it turned out, I would know where I stood as far as my knowledge. I surprisingly felt like I did well. That fact scared me a little bit. I feared that I had lulled myself into a false state of feeling competent.
Before I had a chance to go get David, he appeared and noted the stacked papers. He quickly went to work checking my answers, starting with marking #1 wrong. After the first column, I mentally calculated how badly I failed if the pattern continued, but luckily my mistakes seemed to dry up. In fact, I didn't miss a single question in the final column, where the policy questions resided. After calculating the total, the surprise of my well-above passing score registered in my head. The shock left me feeling anxious.
David joined me on the couch and offered to go over any questions I had missed. I asked if he would go over the ones I got right, but was unsure of as well, to which he readily agreed. We walked through the test discussing each question. Number 23's correct answer pleased me, and David detailed why it worked that way. My pleasure increased with the knowledge that my reasoning was correct in addition to my answer selection.
After we finished the debrief, David congratulated me and said, "Now come downstairs and have some dinner." I hesitantly followed him, fearful of imposing on his family time. His wife graciously welcomed me and I joined his son at the table. I enjoyed a delicious meal and wonderful company. Then I got to meet his amazingly cool pet spiders. He and his son enjoyed telling me about each one’s breed and feeding habits. I really wanted to ask a million questions and hang out longer, but the long drive home loomed ahead of me.
In the car, I texted Josh, my judge mentor, and let him know I passed. He replied, "I am stupid proud of you." Then he said, "Did you plan to test?" to which I responded, "Not exactly." I also let my husband know of my passing score.
Then I spent 3 hours on the road ruminating on my crazy day. I began the day as an anxious L1 feeling lost and out of place at a new store, with a new Head Judge, and completely unsure of myself. By then end of the day I felt like I had grown into a confident L2 ready to take on my next challenge.
It's not often I say this, but I'm proud of my work and my accomplishments that day.
And as usual, I have a list of thank you's to go along with it. To my sweet mom and my wonderful husband for watching our kids and making the trip possible. To my sister Lacey for letting me crash at her place at the last minute and for the wonderful dinner Saturday night. To my judge mentor Josh McCurley for answering my questions and being there to talk about everything. To David Carroll for long nights of studying - you are a demanding teacher, but very effective. To Adena Chernosky for writing the steps to cast a spell on sticky notes for me to practice putting in order. To Joe Klopchic for showing me the L3 qualities and honestly evaluating where I stand. To Carter for teaching me to think through the philosophy behind the rules. And to every judge who I have worked with along the way.
