This post is intended to do two things. First, to cover Grand Prix Las Vegas (in a timely fashion, as usual). Second, to talk about the difference between a judge that does things and a judge that gets things done.
GP Las Vegas. You’ve all heard the stories. The record-smashing attendance. The giant hall filled to the brim with Magic players. The hectic product preparation. The lines. I’m not going to rehash everything that happened, especially as time has dulled the sheen of my recollections, but I will try to add some color to those events that still stand out to me. Chronological order!
9AM Friday morning. I am in a taxi from McCarran (Las Vegas airport) to the event site, riding alongside one of the red shirts, Toby. He gets off the phone, turns to me, and in his classic understated manner, tells me that the product has not yet arrived, as it was still in Arkansas that morning. I don’t remember what I said to him, but I do remember the song that immediately sprung to mind: “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”, by R.E.M.
Most of you familiar with these collected writings will know why this is a bad thing, and will have heard the incredible tale of how this situation was capably handled by the herculean efforts of the heroes involved. For those of you not familiar, this link will rectify your condition.
One of the more interesting things that I took out of this whole debacle was nothing about logistics, or product arrival times, or Arkansas. The thing that struck me most about it was how calmly a lot of people received the news. I’m sure Tim Shields, Aaron Hamer, Sean Catanese, and all the Cascade Games event crew will burst o-rings laughing at my description of Operation Product Drop as “calm,” but considering how some would freak out, it was. I never far less wailing and gnashing of teeth than I expected. What I did hear were people trying to figure out the next step. How does this impact our Friday schedule? Who do we have to prep product? How can we get this stuff into players’ hands the fastest? This problem-solving tendency is something I will touch on later, so don’t forget about it. Write it down on the back of your hand or something.
7:30 PM Friday evening. I am cleaning up the stage where I have been for part of the day, helping to coordinate grinder and side event staffing. The building is warm, as we’re in Las Vegas in the summer. I pick a box of table numbers off of the floor. I hear a low purring noise, like a lion, its jaws wet with blood, falling asleep under the shade of an acacia tree. The temperature in the room drops. My pants feel much less constricting.
7:30 AM Saturday morning. I am supposed to be on site at 8:00AM for a staff picture. My pants have a gaping hole in the crotch seam, so large that the legs are barely attached to each other. I need to fix this. Luckily for me, there is a cab waiting nearby. Even luckier for me, he knows the location of a Wal-Mart. I hope it is open, I say. No problem, says he. It is a twenty-four hour Wal-Mart. I do not enjoy frequenting Wal-Mart, but my heart it did soar upon hearing those words. Thank you, Wal-Mart, for providing me with the opportunity to make it to the staff picture wearing pants that did not have accidental ventilation.
2:00 PM Saturday afternoon. I am on lunch break. I look at the line at the food court. I turn to the main stage. Can judges cut in line, I ask. Doesn’t matter, is the response. There is pizza in the break room. Thank you, Tim Shields, Aaron Hamer, Sean Catanese, whoever had approximately two hundred pounds of Costco pizza sent to the break room. You saved an immense amount of staff time that afternoon.
4:00 PM Sunday afternoon. My team and I are taking care of some side events. While doing so, I am using the relatively slow time to have some sit down chats with my team members. I was fortunate to work with a crack squad of L2s at Las Vegas, and I think we performed admirably. I was relating a lot of this to my team members, and giving them some feedback, when we began to talk about some of the difference between L2s and great L2s. L2s do things, great L2s get things done.
Great L2s are problem finders; Average L2s are problem solvers
Think of a judge you know and respect. Does this judge sit back and let problems come to them, or are they seeking out problems before they arise? Odds are, the best judges you know are problem finders. They are constantly looking at a tournament and asking, “What’s next? What can go wrong? How do I make this better?”
Don’t get me wrong. We need problem solvers. We need judges who can be tapped on the shoulder and told, “Hey, velociraptors are attacking the last three rows of tables. I need you guys to go back there and fix it.” One of the best attributes you can have as a judge is the ability to drop into a random situation, land on your feet, and fix it. This is the pinnacle of problem solving, and is something that should be encouraged in every judge, no matter level or experience. Every tournament, no matter how well planned, or how many problem finders are on staff keeping watch, will have problems arise that need fixing.
The distinguishing feature of a problem finder is that they are constantly trying to avoid the case where you need judges to leap into action. A problem solver will go adjust the pairings boards during round two because traffic around them isn’t flowing well, and players are delayed in getting to their seats. A problem finder will notice that the pairings boards are set up next to the garbage cans, in between the wall and the first row of tables, and that people will struggle to get through that area quickly. Problem finders make your tournaments smoother, faster, and a better player experience.
Okay, you’re saying. Great. How do I become a problem finder? I would recommend two courses of action. The first is to become more active while you are judging. While watching matches and roaming the floor, think. What went wrong at your last event? How could you have prevented it? What looks like it might go wrong now? Does the schedule for the day make sense? Do you see any problems with how the break schedule is set up? Is coverage light in some part of the venue? What’s the trash situation? Are the garbage cans full? Can people hear the announcements the head judge is making? Put yourself in the shoes of a player, and ask, “What is it that is a problem with the event right now? Why am I annoyed?” Then answer those questions with a judge-based solution. “Players are annoyed that they are squashed at their seats because we’ve sat four to a table. I’ll check with the head judge about spreading players out, but also about turning up the AC, in case we can’t spread them out.”
The second course of action is just to judge more. Get more experience with how tournaments are run, and more importantly, how good tournaments are run. Try to learn more about best practices (or, as more frequently the case, better practices), and use that knowledge during your events. Don’t be afraid to challenge leadership on aspects of the event that you think could work better. Of course, don’t be offended when they hear you out, and don’t change things according to your suggestions. They have reasons for what they do, and hopefully get a chance, either during the event or afterwards, to explain them to you.
We need judges who can jump into a swamp with nothing but a compass, a set of bagpipes, and a pocketful of loose change and can emerge whole and unscathed. We need these problem solvers. Sometimes, though, avoiding that swamp will make for a much smoother tournament experience for all involved.