Saturday, June 18, 2016

Trials of a GPT

As a new-ish Magic judge, I've had lots of 'firsts' in the recent weeks. This past weekend, my latest first was 'Head Judging my first Competitive REL event solo.' (Yes, that sounds like one of those oddly specific sports statistics like 'batting average by right handed pitchers on a Tuesday in May.') What it actually means simplifies to this: it was the first time that I was the only judge at a Comp REL event. My previous Comp experiences I have always had the support of other judges around in case I needed someone to consult on a ruling. Being alone at an event is a bit scary as well as a huge responsibility. While I have plenty of mentors to contact and Slack to ask, neither of those solutions are instantaneous and neither allows for an in-depth exchange in a timely manner. My only 'partner in crime' for this event was my TO.

Our first mistake occurred a month before the event. We scheduled it on the same weekend as a large popular street festival. Luckily, the anticipated parking difficulties were less of a problem than we expected. I also went out and talked to the Boy Scouts selling parking in the lot next door and reminded them that our parking is reserved for customers only. They readily agreed to redirect festival-goers into their $10/space parking lot. (Yes, add this to the list of things I have done in a judge shirt!)

We heavily advertised the event since we know that GPTs are not a hugely popular format right now. They fill a nice niche for players who are looking for a chance to play competitively, but do not expect to win a PPTQ. We offered a pizza night the preceding Friday to get our players excited about the event as well.

The day of the event I opted to wear my 'formal' judge attire - the black button down shirt and black slacks - instead of the regional polo and jeans that I normally wear for FNM. I chose that outfit to increase the level of professionalism I exuded and stress the difference between a casual event and a competitive one. This distinction especially mattered to me since many of our local players have not only played with and against me, but many of them helped me learn to play as well. And let's be honest, how much respect does a judge really command without the look?

When I arrived at 11am, two players already waited outside the store. Two more arrived soon after. Since registration (and the store) weren't scheduled to open until 11:30, I greeted the players and let them know that the TO was en route. They seemed like a fun bunch, and I recognized a couple of them from previous events. At 11:20, the TO and I entered the store and started setting up. The players followed us inside and made themselves at home. They seemed to be old friends of the TO and laughed and joked loudly as I got things in place.

The TO fired up our Magic computer and set up the payment processing system while I rearranged the table numbers from our usual FNM setup. We chose the play area closest to the pairings board TV monitor we planned to use and set up space for the usual Pathfinder group at the back of the store, so that the two groups would not disturb one another.

By noon three more players had arrived, a boyfriend/girlfriend that are familiar players in the local scene, and one of our store regulars. I handled the seven registrations and set up the event in WER. I knew another of our players planned to attend, and the thought of having eight players sounded wonderful. Three rounds and done!

Then about ten minutes before start time, the TO brings me a scrap of paper with a name and DCI number. He informs me that this player called to say he's on his way and to go ahead and register him. I cannot seem to locate the player by name or DCI number despite trying multiple searches in WER. The TO simply inputs the name and number and enrolls the player anyway.

Then my local guy shows up at the same time as the player who called. I register my local and take payment from both of them. After double checking the MTR, I explain to TO that we will now be playing 5 rounds of swiss and then a cut to the Top 4. So much for a quick event!

Meanwhile the players seem to be having fun. All but the couple have gathered to chat while filling out decklists and it feels like a 'party' atmosphere in the room.

I pair the first round and get the pairings ready to post. I decide against assigning seats for the player meeting since it's a small crowd and they are happily settled at the first 2 tables anyway. I muddle my way through my 'Head Judge Announcement,' saying things I've heard other judges say many times, but it still sounds strange coming out of my mouth. I collect the decklists and tuck them into my clipboard as I am talking.

One of the players asks if they will be required to sit at assigned tables. Since I know one of my locals requires a fixed seat for a medical issue and I can see that a couple of the players may have trouble fitting into all of the seats, it seems to be a logical request. All of the players also seem comfortable with one another and all 9 are regular competitors in the local scene, although not all from the same stores. I respond by asking the players to use the first 2 tables and play 2 matches at each one, but that they can choose their own seats. They all seem happy with this arrangement.

As I conclude the announcement I realize that I forgot to use my notes . . . oh well, I covered everything, but maybe not in the clearest order. Things to improve for next time!

I post the round 1 pairings and the players eagerly get started. I watch some Magic, making note of who plays slowly, who seems to be newer, and other such things. Overall round 1 goes smoothly. Towards the end of the round, I take a moment to count and alphabetize the decklists. Since there are only 9, it's an easy task. None of them stand out in any way, so I opt to do a random table deckcheck at the start of round 2. In an attempt to minimize the time taken, I ask the TO to check a deck with me. He is not a certified Magic judge, but he has judged Regular REL stuff as well as other games. I assume that he can check off cards on a list. I also know that since there are 9 players, only 1 deckcheck is required to achieve the suggested 10%. This allows me to ask him to check a deck knowing that it may or may not be done with precision, but if he finds an issue, I can then investigate further.

At the start of Round 2, I prepare the pairings, print the slips, and use WER to select the random table. I don't want to miss the swoop, so I pull the decklists as I post the pairings and set them on our deckcheck counter. The TO then walks up with the decks. While I didn't ask him to pick them up, I note that he is trying to be helpful. We quickly go to work checking. He uses the traditional method, I use Polish. I realize that I should have talked to him about this beforehand, but know that adding the 3 minutes for shuffling will still be faster than me checking both decks myself. He finishes his deck in about 6 minutes, stuffs it back in the box, and returns it to the player while instructing him to shuffle. I think to myself that I should have been much more explicit about what I expected of him in this process. I finish my deck at the 8 minute mark. Not great time, but with the TO's interruptions, it's ok. I return the deck, let the players know that there were no issues and give them a 9 minute time extension. The players shuffle, present their decks, and begin their game. One of them turns to me and says, "Good thing you gave us time to shuffle, I hadn't even taken my deck out of the box when TO picked it up." I wanted so badly to facepalm right then . . .

Upon later reflection, I set myself up there by not being clear with TO about what I needed him to do as a part of this deck check. Since we have completed it with no issues, I decide to consider it done and not worry about it. Had there been a problem, I would not have assessed a penalty given the complete situation. For future events, I made a mental note that I need to do a better job of communicating with my staff.

Round 2 proceeds with no problems, but 1 match goes to time and ends 1-0-1. I note that one of those players also had a 1-1-1 draw at the end of turns in Round 1. While I had not observed slow play when I had been at their table, I do make a mental note to watch more closely for it.

A player asks for standings before Round 3, so I put them up on the screen while I prepare pairings and slips. After posting the pairings, my 2 players at 6 points decide to draw. They sign the slip 0-0-3 and one heads out to the street festival.

Near the end of the round only one match is still going. Several other players and I are watching Natalie and Andy's game when she asks me to come away from the table and answer a question for her. Andy controls a Void Winnower, a few other creatures, and has 1 card in hand (Ulamog). Natalie's board state is much stronger, but she is handcuffed by the void Winnower. Natalie and I walk away and she shows me an Altered Ego and asks, "If I cast this, can he not cast even cost spells?" After a brief discussion she explains that she wants to cast it for X=3, thus giving it an odd Converted Mana Cost. I explain to her that yes, it will copy Void Winnower's rules text. I also tell her that yes, she can cast it using an odd value for X. She then says, "Will it do what I think it will do?" with a huge grin on her face. I tell her that I don't know what she thinks it will do, but I nod slightly. I follow her back to the table expecting her opponent to protest. She casts it, copying the Void Winnower. Her opponent then tosses down the Ulamog in mock anger and all the players start laughing. It was the play of the day by far!

Round 4 opens with standings again and play begins uneventfully. I walk among the tables watching Magic when I observe this interaction: Allen casts a creature with a triggered ETB effect. Ned says, "In response I Ultimate Price your creature." Allen picks up the creature and moves to place it in the graveyard. I intervene and explain that casting a spell in response means that you are casting while the previous spell is still on the stack and has not yet resolved. Therefore, the creature is not yet on the battlefield and cannot be the target of Ultimate Price. I then incorrectly issued Ned a GPE-GRV Warning for casting the spell illegally. I should have just backed up to the point before he cast the spell, which would have only untapped his lands and changed nothing else. Then Ned says, "Ok. I want to let the creature resolve and then Ultimate Price it." Allen places the creature in the graveyard while Ned is retapping the lands and placing the Ultimate Price in his graveyard. I tell Allen that the creature will still resolve and enter the battlefield before it goes to the graveyard. Allen then asks, "So I get the trigger?" I say yes and walk them through the interaction since they both seem confused. I decide against issuing any penalties to Allen since Ned's incorrect and confused actions seem to be the root cause of the issue.

At the end of the round, one of the players tells me she wants to drop, so I drop her from the event. Then I pair the next round and pop the standings up on the screen. The players immediately erupt with cries of a problem. First of all, a player had marked the drop space on his slip and I had forgotten to drop him. Easy fix! Then they all insisted that a particular player had 3 too many match points, but everyone else's were correct. That seemed impossible. Someone suggested that he might have the bye for round 5 and I remembered vaguely that I had paired the round before pulling up the standings, but the player said, "No, I had the bye in Round 4. I wouldn't have it again." Turns out, he did have it again. So after dropping the player who dropped and adjusting for the bye, we had correct standings.

When we finally start round 5 my top two players decide to Intentional Draw into the Top 4. As the others begin the round, the player who called in his registration over the phone approaches me. He says, "My name's incorrect on the pairings sheet and I just noticed that my DCI number is wrong too." I ask him to write down his correct information for me, then he leaves to enjoy the street festival for the round. I consult TO, who apologizes for giving me incorrect information from the phone call. We then spend the remainder of the round deleting all the results from the event in WER, adding the correct player, dropping the doppelganger with the wrong DCI number, and re-entering the entire event including manually re-pairing each round. We finish with about 20 minutes remaining in the round.

Great news! The two matches are both concluding. I announce the Top 4 while 15 minute remain in round 5. Unfortunately one player has not returned from the street fair. The other players try to call/text him, but no one has his number. The other three remaining competitors say that they're not going to the GP so they don't mind conceding the byes to him if he is going, however they want to wait for him to return to discuss prize splitting. I tell them that play will start as soon as the previous round ends, with or without him, and they are all fine with that. He walks in as the clock hits 0:00. After a quick chat, the players decide to split the prize packs four ways, but two of them want to play for the title. The #2 and #3 seeds inform me that they would like to concede. I hand them each their prize packs, then place the 1st and 2nd place prize packs on the table for the top two to compete for. They quickly redistribute the packs into four equal piles and each take one.

I took a minute to update WER with this information as the two remaining players began their finals match. I munched on a slice of cold pizza and then joined the players at the table. The game proceeds slowly with both players building sizable board states. Neither is playing particularly slowly, they are just decks that ned time to develop. Then one player casts The Great Aurora. After it resolves, about 5 turns later, his opponent casts The Great Aurora as well. Both are also playing Seasons Past. It's a fascinating game to watch, but it's painfully slow for either player to make any progress toward winning.

A group of customers enters the store from the street festival. They ask about the game, so I try to explain it to them. I use a few cards and show them the basics. They try to watch the finals match, but quickly grow bored and leave. One of the players looks at me laughing and says, "This is probably the worst most boring game ever to show a new player." I agree.

After 90 minutes, Game 1 ends. The store closes. TO and I sit with the players watching Game 2. Yay untimed finals! Luckily the same player wins Game 2 and everyone is happy to go home!

Looking back on the event, we certainly messed up a lot of things. I cringed my way through debriefing this one with my judge mentor, but he followed each issue with the question, "What did you learn from it?" By reframing my mistakes as areas for improvement I realized that while the event may have been rough, I will be a much better judge for future events.

Things I learned:
  • Before scheduling an event, check not only the store calendar, but the community calendar too.
  • Be early - the players will be.
  • Take time to ensure registration data (name/DCI) is accurate. It's a lot faster than fixing it later.
  • Use your notes for the HJ announcement.
  • If you ask a non-judge to help, be very specific about what you need them to do.
  • Check the slips for drops when entering results.
  • Post standings before you pair the next round.
  • When you make a mistake as a judge, it's ok to fix it, and let the players know.
  • Every mistake is an opportunity to improve for next time.
Note: This event took place on May 22, 2016.  It just took me a few weeks to get the blog finished and posted.

Friday, June 17, 2016

Perspectives



When learning to do something new, I like to learn it right. Sometimes that's easy - read the rules and follow them. However, many things are an art and require actual practice to develop skill in applying those rules correctly and consistently. The Magic judge program includes thousands of individuals all over the world in a wide variety of situations all applying the same set of standards to a diverse set of players. Even judges who are highly skilled often come to different conclusions or have variance in their application of fixes.

Last weekend at Grand Prix Columbus I had the opportunity to serve on a staff of talented judges and witness the art of judging first hand. Let me give you a few examples of the things I saw . . .

Note: Players' names are fictional. Active player is the player whose name begins with an A. The nonactive player's name begins with an N.

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Andrew cast Green Sun's Zenith, searched for a creature and put it onto the battlefield, then passed turn. On his next turn his Sylvan Library trigger resolved and he chose to put two cards back on top of his library. Next he went to declare attackers and noticed the Green Sun's Zenith still sitting on the battlefield. He called a judge who determined that it was accidentally left there instead of being shuffled back into his library. The fix that made sense at that point was to shuffle it back into the random portion of the library (thus not shuffling the 2 cards placed on top by the Sylvan Library). After the call, the judges involved discussed that they could have also opted to move Green Sun's Zenith to the graveyard. While neither is specifically supported by policy, the shuffle fix produces a closer approximation of the actual correct game state.

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While watching a Top 8 match in a Friday afternoon grinder between Al and Ned, Al complains that Ned is playing slowly. I watch Ned who has 2 cards in hand as he flips them back and forth apparently thinking. A quick scan of the game reveals that he has only enough mana available to cast 1 of them. The board state is cluttered, but not necessarily complicated. I note that there are approximately 10 minutes left in the round. After Ned makes his play casting 1 of the creatures I say, "I will need you to play faster." Al plays quickly and on Ned's next turn he once again fiddles with his cards, rearranges his lands, and after I prompt him to play faster finally plays both cards. On Ned's next turn he draws a plains which he looks at, puts down, picks up, puts down, picks up . . . I counted to 15 in my head and then interrupted to give the Slow Play Warning.

While writing on the slip, I overhear the next turn. Al draws for turn then plays a Silvergill Adept revealing a Cursecatcher. He says, "Draw?" and Ned says, "ok." Al draws a card. Next he casts another Silvergill Adept (the card he just drew) again revealing the Cursecatcher. He says, "Draw?" and Ned says, "Ok." Then Ned says, "Ooops he shouldn't have drawn those cards JUDGE!" I look at the game and Ned points to his Spirit of the Labyrinth.

After considering the situation I determined that it should be a GPE-GRV for Al and a GPE-FtMGS for Ned. However I was unsure on whether or not to back up. Al only had 2 cards in hand, the Cursecatcher (known to all) and the card drawn off the last Silvergill Adept. I opted to confer with another judge before proceeding. I let the players know, then I located a nearby L2 and asked him to assist me. He came to the table and spoke to the players walking through the situation. While he was doing that, another judge asked me a question and momentarily distracted me. Then L2 asked me to step away from the table with him. We agreed on the call, but he said that he was not comfortable with the backup either.

He wanted to confer with our L3 team lead so we sought him out. L3 appeared to have his hands full with several issues, but he finished what he was doing and listened as L2 and I explained our situation. L3 then told us that it should be ruled a HCE for Al and still FtMGS for Ned. Using the HCE fix Al would reveal the unknown card from his deck and Ned would select it to be shuffled back into Al's library. He then asked if I was comfortable delivering the ruling and when I said I was he sent me back to the table to handle the situation.

Later that evening at Eric Levine's policy seminar on Hidden Card Errors, I became sure that this was in fact not an HCE. I explained the situation to Eric, who agreed that is should have been a GRV.

The next day I sought out L3 and asked him about it. As we went over the story again the disparity became clear. He did not realize that Ned had confirmed Al's draws. In our haste to explain the situation to him, L2 and I had not articulated that point well and that led to the odd ruling.

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During the main event in a round 4 match, Abe said "Move to cleanup step." Nell said "Ok." Abe had 8 cards in hand, so he discarded a Force of Will. Nell stopped him saying, "Whoa, hang on. Before you discard, activate Stoneforge Mystic and Aether Vial." Abe called for a judge, who ruled that Nell had not agreed to move past his priority in end step. The Head Judge who heard the appeal agreed that saying 'ok' is simply an acknowledgment of the proposal, not an acceptance of it.

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While working the Chris Rush Memorial Sealed side event, our event's L2 took a judge call from the main event. When he returned, I asked him what happened and he told the following story: Starting Game 2 a player presented a 60 card deck to his opponent, but had 16 cards in his sideboard due to the fact that he normally runs 61 in his main board. He noticed before drawing his opening hand and called a judge on himself. At this point L2 asked me if I knew the ruling. I said it's a Game loss, but there is a downgrade to a Warning option. He said that's correct, so he consulted a Head Judge of the main event. In this case, the HJ decided to issue the GL. L2 and I discussed it a bit more and neither of us could understand why the HJ made the decision not to downgrade. Seeing that HJ was nearby and available, I sent L2 over to ask him. The answer: "I probably should have downgraded."

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On Sunday a player in the main event had a Windswept Heath in play. He said, "Fetch" while picking it up and touching it to his graveyard. Then, realizing that he was at 1 life, said, "Oh wait, nevermind." His opponent called a judge. The floor judge ruled that he did in fact fetch and was required to do so and lose the game. Unfortunately, I didn't hear the result of the appeal.


My takeaway from the weekend was that no matter how exact we think the rules are, there will always be situations that require using our judgment - we are judges after all. Being a strong judge doesn't mean never being wrong, it means understanding the rules, applying them to the best of our ability, and being willing to trust ourselves to handle the tough situations as best we can. We each add unique experiences and ideals to the program and those can be seen in the choices and rulings we make. The convergence of those perspectives constitutes the body of judge wisdom we all draw upon.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

What Judges Do


Iron sharpens iron, So one man sharpens another.
-Proverbs 27:17 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

Last night I had a long chat with a good judge friend. I went to bed with my mind simmering and full of ideas. I awoke still ruminating on the things he said. Even now, I cannot clear my mind of his comments, or focus on another piece of writing. The ideas are too fresh, and too poignant. 


So after dinner, family time, and DDR, he got right down to business by asking about my recent L2P exam. We went to the computer and walked through each question whether I answered correctly or not. He explained my mistakes, corrected my misunderstandings, and showed me strategies for working things out. What he did not do was offer underserved praise or sugar-coat my mistakes. When we finished, I felt defeated yet stronger than I had been before. My weaknesses had been exposed, but I possessed the tools to correct them. 

We then left the computer and headed for the living room where he motioned me to sit on the couch while he pulled something from his bag. Around this time in the evening we often play Magic, so I was hoping for legacy decks. Instead he sat down and opened his small black judge notebook. "We still haven't talked about your review." Now clearly I was confused again because I thought a review was a dry document keyed into a clunky interface by a judge after an event.

His 'review' involved a lengthy conversation. He asked me about the weekend, walked me through several situations he observed, and took into account my self-observations. We talked about my roles each day, who I worked with, what I learned from each person, and how I could apply those techniques. He followed up on several things that he had noted asking how I had resolved situations later. He even sought my feedback on his performance. Interestingly, I think he was evaluating my ability to evaluate other judges. The level of depth surprised me in both his notes and his questions. He knew how to help me see my own strengths and weaknesses.

Our conversation then turned to my upcoming L2 exam. He asked about my preparations, my next events, and my testing plans. He didn't let me get away with muddled answers and he probed for details when I didn't readily admit them. For most of the conversation, he pressed hard for me to select a test date and make it happen. As we wrapped things up, he added that readiness is a mental state and not to let him push me into testing before I'm ready. By the way he said it, I suspect that he thinks I'm ready, but the readiness from within is the only thing that matters. That solidified a judge lesson: Trust Yourself.

I'm currently re-reading Ender's Game (a personal favorite!), and the line that came to mind is "There is no authority but excellence." In the judge program competence abounds and a great many judges run quality events, but true excellence born of an intolerance for anything less occurs only sporadically. I respect this particular judge not only for his excellence, but for the excellence he brings out in me. I strive to do a better job because he knows I can. I also know that no matter how I preform I'll be called upon to answer for it later, and I'd much rather have the conversation that follows doing well.

Like so many judge interactions, there is no judgment - just honest evaluation. As my mind drifts back over times with my judge friends, lots more stories come to mind:
  • Getting daggered in Slack while preparing for my L1.
  • Driving 10 hours to Albuquerque while Brian and Antonio loudly debated judge scenarios in the back seat.
  • Jim showing me how to prepare sealed product for distribution on my first day on the floor.
  • Countless hours on hangouts with Josh as he answers my never-ending questions.
  • Staying up past midnight going through Judge Box scenarios with Adena.
  • Phone calls with Carter to discuss the philosophies behind the rules.
  • Sitting in the airport with Brian, Zac, Tasha, and a bunch of players sharing our best judge calls of the weekend while waiting on a delayed flight home from Columbus.

The only obvious conclusion here is that judges like helping each other get better. Unlike so many places in life where people compete to hold one another down and getting to the top is exclusive, the judge program is the opposite. Judges sharpen one another - it's what they do.

Monday, May 30, 2016

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. 


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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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







Saturday, May 28, 2016

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!

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

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!

Monday, April 25, 2016

Judging with Your Spouse: A tournament report of sorts

A bit of backstory

A few weeks ago I passed my L1 test. The same day my wonderful husband passed his L2 test. We are both very excited to be able to judge together, but it also brings up some interesting questions when working together at events. My judge mentor and I discussed some aspects, but we found that very little has been written about judging with those who are close to you (best friend, roommate, significant other, person you are dating). My goal with this tournament report is to provide you with some insights based on our first event working together.

The application

I noted a solicitation on JudgeApps in which a local store was seeking a HJ and FJ for a PPTQ. Neither of us had worked with this TO before, and we both decided to apply.  We applied separately and did not mention one another in our applications.  Either of us would have been willing to work whether or not the other was selected.

Tip: If you want to work together, say so.  Don't leave a TO guessing.

When the TO contacted my husband to HJ, he immediately asked about me since we share a last name.  My husband told him that yes we are married and would be happy to both work his event, but that we handle our own judge agreements. This lead to some awkward texts between me and the TO where he repeated to me a bunch of things I had already heard from my husband.

Tip: Make it easy on your TO; have 1 of you serve as the point person for negotiations.

After that, we let my husband handle our communications and things smoothed out.

The day of the tournament

The day of the tournament we rode together.  This could be dangerous if something unexpected happens such as a flat tire or traffic jam. I know that many judges carpool and extenuating circumstances can occur unexpectedly, but hiring a couple to judge is certainly 'putting all your eggs in one basket' for a TO.

Tip: Take extra precautions to be prepared, leave early, and know of a backup judge you can call in case of a catastrophe.

My husband and I met while leading a World of Warcraft guild together.  I was the Guild Leader; he was the Raid Leader. So we have some experience working together and separating the personal and the professional.  In front of the players we never mentioned our relationship and in his HJ announcement, he introduced us using only our first names.  Many of the local grinders know us already, so it's not really a secret, just something that we don't make a big deal about.  We already work well together and know how our strengths and weaknesses overlap, so it provides a strong unified front to the players when we work together as judges.

Tip: Don't make your relationship a part of the event, but don't hide it either.

My husband and I had our 'judges meeting' in the car on the way to the event. Since it was my first time working with him as my HJ, he outlined his specific goals for the event and the duties he preferred me to focus on. He asked me to watch for slow play and to ensure that players near the end of rounds turn in their slips promptly to ensure that rounds end in a timely manner. He asked me to be the first point of contact for players who call a judge during play in order to preserve the chain of appeals. He also outlined our deck check procedures and how he wanted to run the Top 8.

Tip: Make sure that you both have the same expectations for your respective roles. Those roles may or may not correlate to the roles you each normally fill in your non-judge lives.

Swiss rounds

We had 31 players (mostly the local grinder crowd), so we played 5 rounds of swiss. During play, things went really well. As a new judge, I took a lot of basic floor calls. (After all my studying for the L1, I was surprised how straightforward most calls actually were.)  As time allowed, I reviewed each call with my husband afterwards to confirm my rulings and to ensure that he knew of potential problems before they arose.  He demonstrated how he likes penalties to be noted and set the tone he wanted us to use with players.

Tip: Communicate often - just like you would with any other judge.

Deck checks
We planned to do deck checks at the beginning of several of the swiss rounds. I handled the decklists. After the player meeting I alphabetized them, and checked over them when I had time between rounds.  During the second round, he selected a random table, told me the number, then swooped.  I pulled the decklists and had them waiting at the station when he returned with the decks. We had agreed to use the Polish method and it worked well. When a judge call came, we had predetermined that I would answer it, so I dropped the deck and went. Luckily it was fast!  We finished the checks with no problems and an 8 minute time extension.

While reviewing the decklists I noted that a player had registered 64 cards in his deck, but written 60 as the total number of cards. His deck included 13 plains, but due to his handwriting I initially read is at 17, thus listing 68 cards on the decklist. After some close scrutiny the HJ and I agreed that it was a 13, but due to the 64 cards decided to target his table for a deck check in round 3. My husband swooped again while I pulled his opponent's decklist. The deck ended up having the correct 64 cards, so we spoke with the player about the situation and issued no penalty.

We also recruited the TO and our scorekeeper to join us in deck checking the entire Top 8.

Top 8

Our Top 8 cut yielded a field of regular grinders who knew each other well. Since we have played and traveled to events with many of these guys, maintaining our role as judges was important.  My husband had to remind them about their language, but he also overlooked some minor jokes. During a quarterfinal, another player whose match had ended started to discuss sideboarding strategies with a player still competing. I quickly put a stop to that until after the match. (Note: He mentioned a hypothetical situation against a different deck, not the game in progress, so I did not consider it OA.)

Tip: Be conscious of the level of professionalism you want for your event.  It is easy to let things get too casual with people you know well.

Conclusion

After the event the TO thanked us and handed me our compensation. He stated that he would love to have us back again. We pointed out that we would enjoy working for him again, together or separately as his needs dictate. While working with my spouse was fun, during the event it really felt much like working with anyone else. Since we both enjoy judging, it's a great way to spend a day together with our friends in the player community.

Tip: Don't forget to have fun when you work together.