I follow you on facebook. I see your struggles. I see your ups and your downs. You share your life so honestly with the world. I admire you.
We have a lot of mutual friends. I hear the things they say about you. How much you know. How you have helped them. When you are struggling. How much they care about you.
I remember spying the back of your judge hoodie in the Denver airport. It was my first time traveling to a GP alone. You remembered me. You helped me take the bus to the hotel. It was late and cold. I was alone and scared. You made me feel welcome and safe.
Denver was a tough weekend for me. My personal demons reared their ugly heads. I never told anyone how much I was hurting, how much I just wanted to quit, go home, and hide under a blanket and never come out. You were there to make me smile, to show me what strength looks like, and to remind me that no matter the turmoil inside, I could face each day and make it great.
We've worked together since then. You have supported me on rough days. We've shared rides, shared meals, and shared stories - shared moments of our lives. We've had a few chats, but nothing too deep.
But today, on a day where we remember a friend that we lost too soon, I feel compelled to say the words to you. The ones that stick in my throat for fear of getting too close or being too real. The ones I think every time I see you hurting and want to reach out to you, but don't.
Thank you for being real. Thank you for being there. Thank you for sharing your story so openly with the judge community. Thank you for serving as an example of how to overcome challenges and for being a pillar of strength in an uncertain world. Thank you for never giving up and thank you for continuing to dream big. You are an inspiration to me and an example of what I hope to become.
I believe in you.
Reflections on my experiences in the Magic judge program as I learn and improve my craft.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Judgiversary
I'm sitting alone in a hotel room in Mexico City. My roommates already left for the early shift. I'm munching on a granola bar from my backpack and pecking away at my computer, lamenting the fact that I didn't pre-prepare an awesome Judgiversary post. But that wouldn't be me. This blog is about celebrating my journey as a Magic judge in its rawest form, so preprinted sentiments would not be authentic enough for my tastes. Instead, I'll tell you the truth . . .
I'm tired. My body aches all over and the headache has been with me for almost 2 weeks now. My shoulders and back are sore, I've lost feeling in one toe and am missing a toenail from another. My hair is dingy, my lips are cracked and I think this frog-voice my be permanent. When I get up in the morning, the limp from the plantar fasciitis takes longer and longer to subside. But more than my physical ills, I'm mentally exhausted. All the writing, traveling, networking, and learning new things each take their toll. I miss my family. My husband and 3 kids are at home without me. I'm alone in a foreign country where I'll see nothing but the inside of a hotel and convention center.
One year ago today I passed my L1.
One year.
One crazy, exhausting, amazing, unbelievable year.
Many stories from that year are recorded my this blog: passing the L1, working my first event, passing the L2, organizing my first judge conference, my first team lead. Stories of the people, places, and experiences that have shaped me as a judge, and as a person.
Some stories are not recorded. They are just too numerous to write. Some are reviews or exemplars. Some are too personal and too painful to share publicly. Some are still in the editing process. But those stories matter too. Each experience has shaped me and I will never be the same.
Five weeks ago I embarked on my most ambitious schedule yet. I judged an SCG Open where I had my first team lead, spoke at a mini conference 5 hours from my home, floor judged GP Orlando, ran registration for GP San Antonio, and judged GP Mexico City - on 5 consecutive weekends. In between I struggled to keep up with my personal and family obligations, hosted judges in my home, worked on our upcoming regional judge conference, wrote and edited blog posts for both my personal blog and for The Feedback Loop, and studied for an L3P.
While I wouldn't actually recommend this particular schedule, I also wouldn't change it. Each of these weekends offered me unique opportunities and steps I need to take to meet my personal goals in the judge program. From team leading for the first time to my first international event, my growth as a judge has taken off during this period. I'm excited to use my Spanish to help players and to work for a new TO. I'm gaining confidence in everything from my ability to translate Magic cards to my ability to ride a bus. (Yes, public transportation terrifies me.)
One of the most important things I've learned from judging is that you get out what you put in. I've chosen to invest myself in the program, and it has in turn invested in me. The time and effort I have chosen to spend have resulted in opportunities that I have opted to take. The cycle continues with me continually improving and learning and the program continuing to build me up.
I'm going to take a minute to thank a few people who have chosen to invest in me:
Jessica Livingston for our long talk last night after a hot chocolate date. Your insights keep me on track and your friendship means the world to me.
David Hibbs for stepping up to be our RC as well as an amazing mentor and friend. You took a chance on me and you continue to accept me despite my flaws and support my goals in the judge program.
Riki Hayashi for believing in me. When I first approached you, I had no idea what your reaction would be, but you accepted the feedback I offered and have invested in me and given me additional opportunities.
John Carter for mentoring me. Words cannot express what your friendship and advice has meant to me this year. We met on my first weekend as a judge and you saw something in me that was worth developing. You are a demanding teacher, but I respect the high standards you hold for me and I'll continue striving to improve.
Sara Mox for listening to me. When I was lost in a complicated situation and didn't know where to turn, you took the time to help me sort out my convoluted thoughts and pointed me in the right direction. I'm still a judge today because of you.
Jeff Zandi, Dawna Havnar, Joe Sapp, Jim Shuman, James Anderson, Kyle Knudson, Sean Catanese, Antonio Zanutto, Ben Quasnitschka you guys each were a part of my GP Albuquerque weekend and my first weekend as a judge. Those early insights shape the judge I have become. Thanks for being a part of the train wreck that was my introduction to the fabulous world of judge travel.
My family. My mom serves as our babysitter. She's always there to help out when travel plans are crazy, tournaments run long, and the migraines hit after an event. While I'm not always good at expressing it, I appreciate my mom more that I can describe. She has loved and supported me and my family through this crazy journey with a smile on her face and enough energy to keep up with all the moving pieces.
Brian Leonard. My amazing husband has stepped up and supported my dreams in a way I never even imagined. When I told him my lofty judge goals, he said, "We'll make it happen." Despite working full time and being a college student, he spends his weekends taking care of 3 preschoolers so that I can travel the world in my judge blacks. He's always there to listen to my rantings, proofread my blog posts, work at my judge conferences, floor judge for me, and tell me when I'm wrong. His integrity, honesty, and unfailing love have made my journey possible.
To wrap things up, last June at GP Columbus, my team lead Adena Chernosky asked us about our judge goals. One of mine was to judge a GP in Latin America. Well . . . . check! Take that one off the list!
I still have many things I want to accomplish as a judge, so I'd better go hop in the shower because my shift starts in 2 hours. I can't imagine a better way to spend my first Judgiversary than on the floor.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Trial By Fire
The Judge Program is not robust enough to have clear operational manuals on things. There's a strong oral and observational tradition for teaching these tasks. - Riki Hayashi
In the judge program, I've been given a lot of amazing opportunities. In almost every case, those opportunities have come as a surprise to me. On Wednesday, SCG Open Head Judge Steven Briggs posted the schedule for the weekend. I opened it and discovered that my name appeared as a team lead.
Now to be fair, I've been working towards my Team Lead Certification (TLC), but the most recent feedback I had received is that I lacked the experience to team lead. With that in mind, I had opted to apply to a few more GPs and request Main Event assignments to get in some reps on the floor. I had mentally put the TLC in the 'later' category and moved on to other pursuits. Suddenly TLC popped back to the forefront in a most unexpected way.
I scanned the rest of the list and noted the other team leads. Jason Daniels, a guy who gave me a bit of advice that nudged me into believing I could become a judge and who has challenged me to improve every time we've worked together. John Trout, another well-known, quality local judge with a ton of experience. Josh McCurley, my judge mentor. The guy who guided me through my rocky path into the judge program and has talked me off a few ledges. He's been with me every step of this journey and I couldn't be here without him. Joe Klopchic, who spent several hours chatting with me after my last Open and gave me my first real evaluation as a judge. David Hibbs, my RC, and a person for whom I have the deepest level of respect. David's quiet strength and exceptional level of personal integrity produce a trustworthy leader whose presence shapes an event.
Clearly my name appeared on the incorrect line. I read it again. I refreshed the page. Nope. Still there. I couldn't make sense of it for a minute. Why would they make me a team lead? I looked at the other judges on the list and noted quite a few with more experience than me. Baffled, I continued scanning the document.
In an even more bizarre twist, the word printed above my name: Deck Checks. First off, I've never liked doing a deck check. My hands are awkward and clumsy, and my inexperience with the game of Magic means I rarely recognize cards by name or art. For me deckchecking is a painful, tedious process likely to produce migraine headaches. Equipped with an updated contact lens prescription, I hoped at least the headaches would not interfere with this new assignment.
I successfully avoided deckcheks for most of my early judge career, however, noting that serving on each team comprised a TLC requirement, I had resigned myself to learning deckchecks and requested a day of them at GP Louisville. That one day encompassed my entire deckchecking experience. While it was a good day, I spent it desperately trying to speed up my times and not really paying as much attention to the logistics of the team as a whole.
After the initial panic subsided, I realized that I had a lot of work to do. I reread Briggs' e-mail twice. I noted his preferences and foci and considered my next steps. His clearly detailed expectations set a tone of attention to detail and I immediately felt more comfortable knowing what would be expected of me. I set up a facebook chat group with my team and introduced myself to them. I called a judge friend and asked for some tips on deckchecks team leading. I reread the IPG sections on D/DLP and Marked Cards. I pulled out my judge notebook and jotted down a quick break schedule for my team. I messaged Briggs with a few questions about his specific preferences for deckchecks.
After my kids went to bed, I sat down to do some more serious research. I checked out the JudgeApps and facebook profiles of each of my team members. I found that I had an L2 who was getting back into big events and 3 L1s with relatively little large event experience. All seemed to be competent judges who might need some guidance on the logistical aspects of our team's role in the event as a whole. Only one of them had I previously worked with. Those observations shaped my approach to leading my team.
The next day, I called a senior judge and we talked for several hours. I had him walk me through the minutiae of deckchecks one detail at a time. From, "Do I have to ask the scorekeeper for a list of random tables or do they normally do that on their own?" to "What does 'pulling day 2 lists' mean?" Thank goodness for his patience while I asked him about how to organize lists, how many checks to do, how to pair my guys, what to say in my team meeting, and everything else. I frantically wrote seven notebook pages of really important notes like, "keep lists in box." He added the details that demonstrate finesse to my rudimentary understanding of the deckchecks process as well as generally educating me on the basic concepts. I ended that conversation feeling completely out of my league and overwhelmed. He sensed my panic and told me that when a situation comes up all I need to do is: Stop. Breathe. Ask what makes sense. His confidence in me may have been the only confidence at that point.
That evening I messaged Josh McCurley, my longtime judge mentor and anchor. He also expressed confidence in me and added more information and tips. I had no idea that coverage would want to see decklists or that I'd also be asked to do targeted checks by various folks. I especially love that he always makes time for my neurotic questions and never tires of helping me out. I fell asleep that night with so many ideas swimming in my head.
On Friday Briggs sent out more information to the team leads. The fact that we didn't have a TL meeting added to my fears. I tried to assimilate everything I knew into a plan that made sense, but it wouldn't come together in my head. Joe and Emily Klopchic arrived in the afternoon and Joe sat down with me and went over things again. His wisdom has been invaluable to me on several occasions now. His patient manner helped calm me down a bit and his confidence in me surprised me, but it felt good to know someone of his quality believed in me.
That evening Emily and I went out to dinner. I confided my fears to her and she replied, "They didn't make you a team lead because they think you'll be perfect. They made you a team lead because they think you can handle it when things get [messed] up." Somehow those words changed my thinking. I went to bed Friday night feeling good.
During the night I slept poorly, whether it be due to nerves or excitement is debatable, but either way I couldn't seem to drift off. I also messaged with one of my team members whose bus delayed in another state. His updates made it clear that we'd be starting the day without him. My groggy 3am brain automatically shifted the pieces into place for how I could utilize his partner to help organize lists during round 1 with me while I sent the other pair on a mid-round check and then reevaluate once he arrived. I drifted back to sleep with logistics dancing in my head.
The morning brought an early start. A hot shower reduced the sharp pain from inflamed plantar fasciitis and my sore lower back. Breakfast consisted of a children's Tylenol and a Gatorade. I know, I've heard all the 'take care of yourself' mantras. I rarely use Tylenol, but I could barely walk, so I took one. The Gatorade is a part of my hydration plan for the event. With two more Gatorades tucked in my judge bag, we hit the road right on time.
We arrived in plenty of time to don our Star City blue judge shirts, greet our friends, and start the day. Joe, who is a saint, brought me some hot chocolate from Starbucks. As I prepared for judging, my routine calmed the butterflies in my stomach. I clipped on my nametag, filled my pocket with two judge pens, a notebook, a Sharpie, lip balm, and my token, and tucked in my shirt. Seeing the team around me doing likewise, a sense of calm descended on me. My team members gravitated to me and I welcomed them.
Briggs began the day with a hearty greeting. He then asked team leads who they were missing and I let him know about our stranded traveler. Following the initial announcements I met with my team and detailed our day's tasks and plans to them. They seemed eager and on top of things. Relief filled me as instinct kicked in and things fell into place. I bounced back and forth between coordinating with other team leads and communicating with my team. Hibbs, Nate Hurley, and I put together a plan to collect decklists and distribute goodies at the start of the day. I found the decklist box and prepared it for use. I checked in with scorekeeper Patrick Vorbroker. Each task I mentally ticked off my list strengthened my confidence.
As the event began, each team distributed and collected as assigned. I rounded up the decklists and my team set to work turning the piles into an organized, alphabetized system. We got that round 1 mid-round deckcheck in, but missed our goal of having all the lists done by the end of the first round. As my partner swooped round 2, I noted that O/P was the only remaining pile. After our round 2 checks, we knocked it out. Briggs advised me to check if the owners of the four missing decklists had dropped. Before I even had a chance to do so, one of my team members reported that he'd checked, and in fact all four had dropped. We threw in a targeted check, and still had time to hit the floor to help with end of round.
I sent my partner on a round 3 break, and the other pair in round 4. I also had one of them pick up Starbucks for our team. Knowing that we were down a person and one of them had driven in early in the morning, the little treat seemed the obvious choice to boost morale. (And if you know me, you will be aware of my hot chocolate addiction.) I managed to take some time off the floor in round 5 myself and used the time to meet with another judge about an unrelated project.
Our checks improved as the day went on and I saw each of my team members improving. I made some brief notes for use in later review writing. I issued a few D/DLP penalties and Briggs corrected me for how I noted them on the slips. I really appreciate him taking the time to point out an error to me and give me the opportunity to fix it during the day. It reminded me to provide real-time feedback to other judges as well.
I took a moment to sit down with Emma, the day 2 deckchecks lead to discuss the handoff. I let her know of my plan to pull the lists before leaving. In round 8 we pulled the first batch and in 9 we pulled more after our checks were completed. I noted the team behind me sorting match slips and used those to pull even more lists. Balancing the stage's requests for day 2 lists to copy with pulling proved to be an exciting challenge. My team worked through the debrief and had almost all the lists done by the time our day ended. Joe helped me pull the final few before we left. I felt good about handing off the lists with day 2 ready to go.
The day itself felt rather anti-climactic. Judges nailed their assignments, players received first class treatment, and we all had a blast. Looking back, I felt like there were several times where someone asked me to do a task, and I simply let them know the answer or that it had been completed. While I didn't really know I was supposed to do it, some combination of instinct and preparations just led me to doing things that needed done. I looked around at the folks in blue shirts and realized that while many of them have more experience than me, I can in fact work alongside them and add value to the event.
Monday, March 6, 2017
How to Write a Tournament Report
Tournament Report encompass a wide variety of offerings. While I believe that reports are as individual as the tournaments they describe, I'm willing to share my personal formula for composing them. Please note the that voice of the writer is a crucial component in any written work.
1. Work a Tournament
Yes, I know this is obvious, but if you plan to write a tournament report afterwards, then you need to work your tournament more intentionally. Pay attention to details (and write them down!) so that when you start composing your report, they won't slip your mind. Make note of what you did, but also how you felt about it or how it impacted you. Also, make a note of what you didn't do, but wish you had. If someone says something particularly poignant, jot it down - being able to use exact words makes your writing come alive, but no one wants to be misquoted. Take the time to debrief with other judges after the event and add their reflections as well.
2. Find an Angle
If you had to summarize your day in 1 sentence, what would it be? What is the most important lesson you learned? The funniest thing that happened? The weirdest ruling? What about your day can judges learn from? What impact can your experience have on others? Pick something that stands out and write about that.
3. Tell a Story
Imagine telling a friend about your event. Start at the beginning, add details, build up to the climax, end with a conclusion. Some subplots add value, but focus on the most significant incidents. Go somewhere with what you say.
4. Curate the Details
Random facts in a vacuum are boring. Omit the irrelevant. Select only facts that will allow the reader to clearly visualize your story and support your message. Adding diagrams, dialogue, photos, or other primary sources helps bring your narrative to life.
5. End with Action
How is your report relevant to your reader? Should they try a technique or implement an idea? Can they improve on something you tried? Leave them deep in thought pondering an idea you suggested or excited to execute a new strategy at their next event.
6. Repeat
Practice makes perfect . . .
(Ok, maybe not perfect, but the more you write the better your tournament reports will become, and the more other judges can learn from them. I'm looking forward to reading your next tournament report!)
1. Work a Tournament
Yes, I know this is obvious, but if you plan to write a tournament report afterwards, then you need to work your tournament more intentionally. Pay attention to details (and write them down!) so that when you start composing your report, they won't slip your mind. Make note of what you did, but also how you felt about it or how it impacted you. Also, make a note of what you didn't do, but wish you had. If someone says something particularly poignant, jot it down - being able to use exact words makes your writing come alive, but no one wants to be misquoted. Take the time to debrief with other judges after the event and add their reflections as well.
2. Find an Angle
If you had to summarize your day in 1 sentence, what would it be? What is the most important lesson you learned? The funniest thing that happened? The weirdest ruling? What about your day can judges learn from? What impact can your experience have on others? Pick something that stands out and write about that.
3. Tell a Story
Imagine telling a friend about your event. Start at the beginning, add details, build up to the climax, end with a conclusion. Some subplots add value, but focus on the most significant incidents. Go somewhere with what you say.
4. Curate the Details
Random facts in a vacuum are boring. Omit the irrelevant. Select only facts that will allow the reader to clearly visualize your story and support your message. Adding diagrams, dialogue, photos, or other primary sources helps bring your narrative to life.
5. End with Action
How is your report relevant to your reader? Should they try a technique or implement an idea? Can they improve on something you tried? Leave them deep in thought pondering an idea you suggested or excited to execute a new strategy at their next event.
6. Repeat
Practice makes perfect . . .
(Ok, maybe not perfect, but the more you write the better your tournament reports will become, and the more other judges can learn from them. I'm looking forward to reading your next tournament report!)
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Judging with Your Spouse: Role Reversal
Prologue: This is a sequel to Judging with Your Spouse: A tournament report of sorts.
On October 29, my husband and I returned to the store where we first judged together. In April, we joined forces for his first time to Head Judge and my first PPTQ at all. This time we brought a lot more experience to the table (my 6th PPTQ to HJ), but it served as our first opportunity to swap roles.
We arrived early, just as before, greeted the now familiar staff, and checked the play area setup. I rounded up my husband Brian and our other floor judge, Vasilios Vetter. Brian has been mentoring Vasi and he's a regular at this store. While a second floor judge was not necessary, it provided an excellent mentoring opportunity. I always begin my events with a judge meeting, no matter how small the staff because it sets the expectations and tone for the day. I delivered my usual spiel including how to handle backups and appeals, tardiness times, and task assignments. Since Vasi covered deckcheks for me at a previous event, I assigned him to handle paper and put Brian on deckchecks. I spent a bit of time detailing my specific goals and expectations for each of them before releasing them to greet players while I conferred with the scorekeeper.
My HJ announcement to begin the event felt rehearsed and automatic, a sharp contrast from my previous experiences which had included butterflies and bumblings. Both of my floor judges preformed their respective duties with minimal guidance and I actually seemed superfluous for much of the day. Of course the day wouldn't be complete without a few interesting scenarios giving me some new stories to share.
At one point Brian picked up decks to check after the players had cut one another's decks. While that does not invalidate the deck check, it constitutes a better practice to swoop before the opponent has touched a deck to ensure that the order of the cards has not been manipulated in any way. I pointed out to Brian his suboptimal execution and that interaction constituted my first time correcting him on the floor. He started to argue with me, but then listened to what I had to say, and I could feel our working relationship evolving.
At the end of the first round, Brian called time by informing the only match still playing that the time had ended and directing them to begin turns. I explained to him that I preferred my judges to call time loudly to the entire room, even if only 1 match remains. Letting the other players hear that announcement cues the rest of them to wrap up their eating, finish games they are playing for fun, and get ready to move to the pairings board. That little heads up can save a few minutes as well as smoothing out the transition between rounds. I realize that I can be a devil for details, but it also demonstrated my emerging style as a Head Judge - little details can add value in big ways.
During round 2 I took a call at a table while Brian and Vasi checked decks. I concluded the call, which was the players asking me to help them resolve a stack with at least six things on it as they activated abilities and responded throughout the resolution. Then, Brian approached to let me know that he had issued a Game Loss for a Deck/Decklist Problem during his deck check. The penalty, a straightforward 59 cards registered, hadn't required any investigation. Although I had asked to be informed of GLs, Brian made the call to not interrupt me while with the players and handled the GL himself. He made the correct decision and I let him know that I appreciated both his handling the situation and moving the event along and his communication with me afterwards.
On a later call, he answered a player's question about a spell, but by pointing out that it had an Escalate option, he inadvertently gave away information to the opponent. Afterwards he immediately told me that he messed up and should have taken the question away from the table. I could see his embarrassment for making the mistake, but he quickly resolved to speak more carefully next time. Seeing him improve as a judge right before my eyes offered me a rare look into another judge's development.
My most memorable call occurred at a table where I watched a match. The adjacent match then asked me about a situation where a player wanted to activate a creature's ability in response to casting a spell that required sacrificing a creature. He planned to activate, then sac so that he would get both the ability and the spell. I explained that he could not do this since the sacrifice of the creature constituted part of the spell's cost and therefore the creature would not be around after that spell went on the stack, so he could no longer activate its ability. Both players expressed understanding of the situation. Then the opponent queried, "Isn't that a penalty?" I responded that is wasn't and play resumed. I especially did not want to penalize a player whose opponent seemed to be angling for a penalty to gain an advantage. While overall, the GRV would not have had much effect, I didn't want a player telling me how to handle a call.
Brian had been watching and told me that it should have been a penalty because the player had already done it. I stated that it wasn't because the player was asking about it and had not yet taken the action. After talking with him more, I realized that I had misunderstood the player and that he had in fact already activated the ability when I was called, but had reversed his actions before I observed the board state. After the match ended, I sought out each player and explained my mistake and clarified that it should have been a penalty. Both players graciously accepted the information and the nonactive player seemed especially appreciative.
The remainder of the day passed without incident. Players played, we judged, and the TO provided yummy sandwiches for lunch. With two competent floor judges, I had time to pull Vasi aside for a chat about state-based actions. I enjoyed the opportunity to do some mentoring and develop my own skills as well. The Top 8 moved quickly with no issues, and we finished with a debrief meeting. In the past I've received lots of positive feedback from my floor judges about the value in taking the time to talk after the event, so it's a step I never omit. Even at the end of a long day, the chance to provide closure and honest feedback seems to be invaluable.
On the way home, Brian and I conversed about the fact that we could see each other's mistakes and learn and grow together as judges. We can encourage one another as we mature, but we also each follow our own paths within the judge program. By allowing ourselves to be vulnerable with one another we can share not only the details of various calls or techniques, but also the feelings that come with them. It adds a new dimension to both our marriage and our judge careers when the two overlap.
On October 29, my husband and I returned to the store where we first judged together. In April, we joined forces for his first time to Head Judge and my first PPTQ at all. This time we brought a lot more experience to the table (my 6th PPTQ to HJ), but it served as our first opportunity to swap roles.
We arrived early, just as before, greeted the now familiar staff, and checked the play area setup. I rounded up my husband Brian and our other floor judge, Vasilios Vetter. Brian has been mentoring Vasi and he's a regular at this store. While a second floor judge was not necessary, it provided an excellent mentoring opportunity. I always begin my events with a judge meeting, no matter how small the staff because it sets the expectations and tone for the day. I delivered my usual spiel including how to handle backups and appeals, tardiness times, and task assignments. Since Vasi covered deckcheks for me at a previous event, I assigned him to handle paper and put Brian on deckchecks. I spent a bit of time detailing my specific goals and expectations for each of them before releasing them to greet players while I conferred with the scorekeeper.
My HJ announcement to begin the event felt rehearsed and automatic, a sharp contrast from my previous experiences which had included butterflies and bumblings. Both of my floor judges preformed their respective duties with minimal guidance and I actually seemed superfluous for much of the day. Of course the day wouldn't be complete without a few interesting scenarios giving me some new stories to share.
At one point Brian picked up decks to check after the players had cut one another's decks. While that does not invalidate the deck check, it constitutes a better practice to swoop before the opponent has touched a deck to ensure that the order of the cards has not been manipulated in any way. I pointed out to Brian his suboptimal execution and that interaction constituted my first time correcting him on the floor. He started to argue with me, but then listened to what I had to say, and I could feel our working relationship evolving.
At the end of the first round, Brian called time by informing the only match still playing that the time had ended and directing them to begin turns. I explained to him that I preferred my judges to call time loudly to the entire room, even if only 1 match remains. Letting the other players hear that announcement cues the rest of them to wrap up their eating, finish games they are playing for fun, and get ready to move to the pairings board. That little heads up can save a few minutes as well as smoothing out the transition between rounds. I realize that I can be a devil for details, but it also demonstrated my emerging style as a Head Judge - little details can add value in big ways.
During round 2 I took a call at a table while Brian and Vasi checked decks. I concluded the call, which was the players asking me to help them resolve a stack with at least six things on it as they activated abilities and responded throughout the resolution. Then, Brian approached to let me know that he had issued a Game Loss for a Deck/Decklist Problem during his deck check. The penalty, a straightforward 59 cards registered, hadn't required any investigation. Although I had asked to be informed of GLs, Brian made the call to not interrupt me while with the players and handled the GL himself. He made the correct decision and I let him know that I appreciated both his handling the situation and moving the event along and his communication with me afterwards.
On a later call, he answered a player's question about a spell, but by pointing out that it had an Escalate option, he inadvertently gave away information to the opponent. Afterwards he immediately told me that he messed up and should have taken the question away from the table. I could see his embarrassment for making the mistake, but he quickly resolved to speak more carefully next time. Seeing him improve as a judge right before my eyes offered me a rare look into another judge's development.
My most memorable call occurred at a table where I watched a match. The adjacent match then asked me about a situation where a player wanted to activate a creature's ability in response to casting a spell that required sacrificing a creature. He planned to activate, then sac so that he would get both the ability and the spell. I explained that he could not do this since the sacrifice of the creature constituted part of the spell's cost and therefore the creature would not be around after that spell went on the stack, so he could no longer activate its ability. Both players expressed understanding of the situation. Then the opponent queried, "Isn't that a penalty?" I responded that is wasn't and play resumed. I especially did not want to penalize a player whose opponent seemed to be angling for a penalty to gain an advantage. While overall, the GRV would not have had much effect, I didn't want a player telling me how to handle a call.
Brian had been watching and told me that it should have been a penalty because the player had already done it. I stated that it wasn't because the player was asking about it and had not yet taken the action. After talking with him more, I realized that I had misunderstood the player and that he had in fact already activated the ability when I was called, but had reversed his actions before I observed the board state. After the match ended, I sought out each player and explained my mistake and clarified that it should have been a penalty. Both players graciously accepted the information and the nonactive player seemed especially appreciative.
The remainder of the day passed without incident. Players played, we judged, and the TO provided yummy sandwiches for lunch. With two competent floor judges, I had time to pull Vasi aside for a chat about state-based actions. I enjoyed the opportunity to do some mentoring and develop my own skills as well. The Top 8 moved quickly with no issues, and we finished with a debrief meeting. In the past I've received lots of positive feedback from my floor judges about the value in taking the time to talk after the event, so it's a step I never omit. Even at the end of a long day, the chance to provide closure and honest feedback seems to be invaluable.
On the way home, Brian and I conversed about the fact that we could see each other's mistakes and learn and grow together as judges. We can encourage one another as we mature, but we also each follow our own paths within the judge program. By allowing ourselves to be vulnerable with one another we can share not only the details of various calls or techniques, but also the feelings that come with them. It adds a new dimension to both our marriage and our judge careers when the two overlap.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Unsporting Conduct at GP Atlanta
At GP Atlanta, I had the opportunity to work on the Main Event for the first time. After doing registration and sides, my excitement at finally getting on the floor of the Main Event heightened my anticipation for the day. When I arrived, I learned that I would be helping players pick up sealed pools first, then transitioning to the floor later in the day. On one hand, it saddened me to have to wait longer, but on the other hand, being a logistics person, the opportunity to observe the new process of sealed deck construction using only preregistered pools fascinated me as well. Each player received a deckbox containing his/her six packs which had already been opened and listed on a customized deck registration sheet showing only his/her cards. The player simply constructed a deck, then indicated which cards it included on the provided list.
In addition to myself and our team lead, my team consisted of a judge from Argentina enjoying her first US event and a veteran GP L2. We met in the morning, got to know each other a bit, and prepared to work. The morning passed mostly uneventfully while we handed out pools to players. The process moved smoothly overall. The most exciting part for me came when I noted a problem with the traffic flow as players backtracked when heading towards a banner. I noted that a slight change in the banner's placement could alleviate the problem. I passed on the suggestion to my team lead, someone moved the banner, and the players stopped backtracking. Seeing feedback lead to real-time change excited me and made me feel valued, and seeing the success added to the fun.
After round three when deck construction closed, our team headed to lunch at the nearby CNN Center. As a first-timer to Atlanta, this place is awesome: a huge food court situated amid cool shops, offices, and a hotel while boasting a giant selection of food options, clean tables, and interesting scenery. Our team lead led us to a Chinese place where we received heaping plates of food, then conversed at a comfortable table. He had several prepared questions that led to some fun discussions. The structure seemed a little forced to me, but I noted that he carefully ensured everyone participated in the conversation. I really appreciated when he shared his tips on team leading, such as using policy scenarios to get judges talking.
We returned to the event to take the floor for round 5. My first call was a Game Loss for Tardiness. While it constituted a straightforward call, I realized that I had not heard an official announcement of the tardiness times. I double checked with another judge that we were at 0/10 before issuing the penalty. I likely missed that announcement since I still distributing sealed pools when the first round began, but I will know to ask for that information in the future.
My next call proved to be an interesting one. Noah called a judge and explained that Arlo had cast Harnessed Lightning targeting Noah's Empyreal Voyager. Both players agreed on that much, but then their agreement ended. Arlo claimed that he said "neg 3" while pointing at the Voyager. He then picked up the die representing his energy which had been on 5, fiddled with it, then replaced it showing 6. Noah placed the Voyager in his graveyard, then noticed the energy counter, pulled it out of the graveyard and called a judge. Noah asserted that Arlo did not say anything and he had only assumed the choice of 3. Upon seeing the die he thought that Arlo had only chosen to spend 2 energy. I picked up and slowly read Harnessed Lightning, which allowed me a moment to collect my thoughts before continuing.
While investigating, I struggled to maintain control of the situation as both players interrupted one another several times. As Noah told his version of the story, Arlo exclaimed, "That's bullshit!" I informed him that his behavior would lead to a penalty if it continued, and tried to focus on understanding each player's version of events. Arlo declared that he had clearly stated the 3 and had mishandled the die. When Noah began to speak again, Arlo interrupted with, "That's a lie!" The second time he made a lie comment, I informed him that he would be receiving a USC-Minor and asked him to let me finish the ruling. After hearing both sides, I believed that Arlo had intended to cast the spell for 3 damage, but may not have spoken loudly or clearly enough. Additionally he had not calculated his new energy total correctly. A compelling factor to me was the lack of logical reason for casting the spell for 2 - while technically legal, doing so would make no sense. In the end, I issued Arlo a GRV for the incorrect energy total, but opted not to issue FtMGS to Noah since he called a judge immediately. Arlo also received the afore mentioned USC-Minor for his disruptive behavior.
The player's outburst left me a bit shaken, but my team lead had been watching and took me aside to discuss it. He offered practical suggestions for separating the players, maintaining better control of the situation, and getting the information I needed more efficiently. His recommendations included using height to gain control while at the table or physically separating the players by moving one away from the table. He reassured me that I had come to the correct conclusion and handled the situation appropriately, while providing guidance for future incidents. I especially appreciated how he reaffirmed my abilities and left me feeling more confident than I had before.
Another judge who observed the interaction chatted with me about it afterwards. He informed me that he believed I waited too long to issue the USC and that after the "bullshit" comment would have been preferable. I, recalling my years as a junior high teacher, generally allow people to release some 'smoke' before I feel the need to react. Being a new judge, I felt unsure about how much is 'too much' and when a player's behavior crosses the line into Unsporting Conduct. After we spoke, he polled several other judges and later contacted me again to let me know that the majority agreed with when I had issued the penalty.
The remainder of the day passed without incident. We took a half-round break in round 6 and round 7 flew by. At the end of the day, we debriefed as a team, each reporting on what we learned as well as discussing an interesting policy scenario. I had an excellent first day on the main event, and although giving my first ever USC was a bit unnerving, as each judge first passes, I become a bit more confident and a bit more prepared to handle my next challenge.
In addition to myself and our team lead, my team consisted of a judge from Argentina enjoying her first US event and a veteran GP L2. We met in the morning, got to know each other a bit, and prepared to work. The morning passed mostly uneventfully while we handed out pools to players. The process moved smoothly overall. The most exciting part for me came when I noted a problem with the traffic flow as players backtracked when heading towards a banner. I noted that a slight change in the banner's placement could alleviate the problem. I passed on the suggestion to my team lead, someone moved the banner, and the players stopped backtracking. Seeing feedback lead to real-time change excited me and made me feel valued, and seeing the success added to the fun.
After round three when deck construction closed, our team headed to lunch at the nearby CNN Center. As a first-timer to Atlanta, this place is awesome: a huge food court situated amid cool shops, offices, and a hotel while boasting a giant selection of food options, clean tables, and interesting scenery. Our team lead led us to a Chinese place where we received heaping plates of food, then conversed at a comfortable table. He had several prepared questions that led to some fun discussions. The structure seemed a little forced to me, but I noted that he carefully ensured everyone participated in the conversation. I really appreciated when he shared his tips on team leading, such as using policy scenarios to get judges talking.
We returned to the event to take the floor for round 5. My first call was a Game Loss for Tardiness. While it constituted a straightforward call, I realized that I had not heard an official announcement of the tardiness times. I double checked with another judge that we were at 0/10 before issuing the penalty. I likely missed that announcement since I still distributing sealed pools when the first round began, but I will know to ask for that information in the future.
My next call proved to be an interesting one. Noah called a judge and explained that Arlo had cast Harnessed Lightning targeting Noah's Empyreal Voyager. Both players agreed on that much, but then their agreement ended. Arlo claimed that he said "neg 3" while pointing at the Voyager. He then picked up the die representing his energy which had been on 5, fiddled with it, then replaced it showing 6. Noah placed the Voyager in his graveyard, then noticed the energy counter, pulled it out of the graveyard and called a judge. Noah asserted that Arlo did not say anything and he had only assumed the choice of 3. Upon seeing the die he thought that Arlo had only chosen to spend 2 energy. I picked up and slowly read Harnessed Lightning, which allowed me a moment to collect my thoughts before continuing.
While investigating, I struggled to maintain control of the situation as both players interrupted one another several times. As Noah told his version of the story, Arlo exclaimed, "That's bullshit!" I informed him that his behavior would lead to a penalty if it continued, and tried to focus on understanding each player's version of events. Arlo declared that he had clearly stated the 3 and had mishandled the die. When Noah began to speak again, Arlo interrupted with, "That's a lie!" The second time he made a lie comment, I informed him that he would be receiving a USC-Minor and asked him to let me finish the ruling. After hearing both sides, I believed that Arlo had intended to cast the spell for 3 damage, but may not have spoken loudly or clearly enough. Additionally he had not calculated his new energy total correctly. A compelling factor to me was the lack of logical reason for casting the spell for 2 - while technically legal, doing so would make no sense. In the end, I issued Arlo a GRV for the incorrect energy total, but opted not to issue FtMGS to Noah since he called a judge immediately. Arlo also received the afore mentioned USC-Minor for his disruptive behavior.
The player's outburst left me a bit shaken, but my team lead had been watching and took me aside to discuss it. He offered practical suggestions for separating the players, maintaining better control of the situation, and getting the information I needed more efficiently. His recommendations included using height to gain control while at the table or physically separating the players by moving one away from the table. He reassured me that I had come to the correct conclusion and handled the situation appropriately, while providing guidance for future incidents. I especially appreciated how he reaffirmed my abilities and left me feeling more confident than I had before.
Another judge who observed the interaction chatted with me about it afterwards. He informed me that he believed I waited too long to issue the USC and that after the "bullshit" comment would have been preferable. I, recalling my years as a junior high teacher, generally allow people to release some 'smoke' before I feel the need to react. Being a new judge, I felt unsure about how much is 'too much' and when a player's behavior crosses the line into Unsporting Conduct. After we spoke, he polled several other judges and later contacted me again to let me know that the majority agreed with when I had issued the penalty.
The remainder of the day passed without incident. We took a half-round break in round 6 and round 7 flew by. At the end of the day, we debriefed as a team, each reporting on what we learned as well as discussing an interesting policy scenario. I had an excellent first day on the main event, and although giving my first ever USC was a bit unnerving, as each judge first passes, I become a bit more confident and a bit more prepared to handle my next challenge.
Monday, November 14, 2016
USA-South Conference Report
Note: This is a conference report. It is the same one I posted on the forums and therefore does not contain my usual personal commentary or snarky attitude.
Location
After hosting previous conferences in Dallas and Austin, for
this conference we selected the smaller city of Texarkana which sits on the
junction of Texas and Arkansas near the border of Louisiana. We chose this
location to make the conference more accessible for judges who have not had a
nearby conference recently while still maintaining proximity to both DFW and
Oklahoma City.
On our site visit to select a venue, we considered two
convention centers, a library, a community center, and the LGS. While at the
LGS, the store judge suggested the Silver
Star Smokehouse for lunch. While dining at this barbecue establishment, we
noted the large private room. Upon investigation, we discovered that its
capacity exceeded our needs and that it could be subdivided into 2 smaller
spaces as needed. Each side boasted A/V capabilities and ample seating. The restaurant
also offered a separate quiet boardroom with a large table and comfortable
chairs that would serve well as a testing room. The manager informed us that
use of the rooms would be free if our group purchased lunch from the
restaurant. We confirmed availability for our date and tentatively booked it on
the spot.
Sixty-eight judges attended the conference including nine
from Arkansas and five from Louisiana. Approximately 20 L2s attended and
approximately 45 L1s. David Hibbs (Austin, TX) and John Carter (Renton, WA) were
the L3s in attendance.
We arranged with the venue an all-you-can eat lunch option
with water and sweet tea available all day long. By charging each attendee $15 for a catered
lunch, we secured a larger, more efficient space to make the conference more
comfortable than previous events in a cramped LGS. It also eliminated the need
for a lengthy lunch recess and allowed for more natural conversations during
the meal among judges who may not have known one another.
Materials
Upon arrival, each judge received a personalized packet
containing a nametag, feedback forms, a creature token, a door prize ticket,
and a pen. The preprinted nametag listed the judge’s name and location which
facilitated judges meeting one another. Each packet included four feedback
forms that were color-coded for each presentation. The token served to divide
judges into small groups for a focus group activity later in the day. The focus
group leaders additionally had a huge version of their group’s token to identify
their role.
Each table featured a selection of candy for munching during
the conference and tea and water stations sat in each room. Creating this
comfortable environment help participants relax and engage in the event. During
each breakout session, moderators drew winners for small door prizes such as
judge notebooks, playmats, or PAX pins. Adding this fun element livened the
mood of each room.
Theme
We decided on the theme of “Your Identity as a Judge.” It
encompassed the regional need to connect with judges on a personal level and
build their excitement for the judge program. Our keynote, delivered by David
Hibbs, was entitled “The Judge Program: You Are Here.” It focused on the
structure of the program and the roles of various groups within it. This
information guided judges to understand both their current situation and
allowed them to set goals for their future development. We concluded the day by
dividing participants into small groups led by senior judges to consider
discussion questions about the day’s experiences. These activities intended to
facilitate the transfer of information learned at the conference to actual
practices for judges.
David Carroll led our staff as the Conference Organizer.
David oversaw all decisions pertaining to the event and managed the other staff
members. Additionally, he acted as the testing coordinator. Erin Leonard
handled the conference logistics as well as managing the presenters. David
Hibbs provided support, delivered the keynote, and handled some L2 testing.
Spin Rodriguez participated in the conference planning, then served handled
day-of duties including setup, registration, photographer, L1 room monitor,
check-out/foil distribution, and breakdown. Brian Leonard’s tasks included
setup, registration, information technology and A/V, L2 room monitor,
check-out/foil distribution, and breakdown.
Schedule
10:00 Opening
Remarks
10:10 Keynote Address
11:20 AMA with the ACs
12:30 Lunch
1:45 Breakout Session
12:45 Breakout Session 2
3:45 Breakout Session 3
4:45 Focus Groups
6:00 Closing Comments
10:10 Keynote Address
11:20 AMA with the ACs
12:30 Lunch
1:45 Breakout Session
12:45 Breakout Session 2
3:45 Breakout Session 3
4:45 Focus Groups
6:00 Closing Comments
We created a schedule intended to maximize time for
community building in addition to providing the attendees with presentations of
solid value. Following the keynote, we offered a panel called “Ask Me Anything
with the Area Captains.” Participants could interact with regional leaders and
served to break the ice and get people talking before lunch. A quick group
picture followed while the restaurant finished setting up our meal. The
afternoon consisted of three breakout sessions targeted for L1s or L2s, and
testing took place during this time as well. A staff member moderated each room
to introduce the presenters, ensure that we ran on time, and help with
technical issues. In the final session, participants broke into small groups to
discuss the conference’s content and its impact on their future as judges. Each
group’s composition mixed veterans with newer judges and pulled from
geographically diverse areas. These groups both introduced new people and
helped participants set goals for their own personal development. After the
focus groups, attendees exchanged their completed feedback forms for foils at
the check-out table.
Our keynote, panel, and focus group activities were designed
to build community and provide participants a general guide to the judge
program. The breakout sessions delved into specifics. In the L1 room, we
offered presentations on the judge Code of Conduct, deck checks, and LGS
relations. For L2s we scheduled self-care at events, inspiring and motivating a
team, and Premiere TO relations. Each room’s selections included locally
relevant content and interactive elements.
David Hibbs and John Carter tested and promoted five L2
candidates. David Carroll certified a new L1. One judge asked to take an L2P at
the event, and David Carroll discussed the results with him.
Conclusion
The greatest successes of this conference proved to be the location
and the preparation. The new connections forged among judges in our region
outweighed the logistical difficulties. The time we invested in creating
nametags, packets, and color-coded feedback forms translated into measurable
results at the event, evidenced by the smooth check-in and check-out processes.
The ability to provide presenters real-time feedback also constituted a bonus.
Our hard working staff contributed to our success.
The biggest improvement we could make would be in the
content of the presentations. We went principally with those who volunteered
instead of recruiting presenters for specific topics of interest. Additionally,
having both the focus groups and the area captain panel lowered the number of
presentations we had time to include, however for the specific location and
purpose of this conference, those choices were appropriate. For a more urban
conference, selecting only one would work better.
While this conference brought some logistical challenges
with its remote location and unusual venue, it provided an excellent
opportunity to reach out to an underserved part of our region and create
lasting connections among judges.
All photos courtesy of Spin Rodriguez.
All photos courtesy of Spin Rodriguez.
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