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!)