Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Getting Committed

I'm a person that enjoys writing.   It helps me to exercise my demons.   Even the nasty little blue ones with sharp pointy teeth can be driven out with a good session with a word processor.   The mere act of putting something onto the screen helps to remove angst and feelings that are bottled up inside of me.   I'm also a voracious reader, but the act of reading is fundamentally different than writing.   With reading, we consume and ingest someone else's works.   We enter their world and are trapped in it for a time.   By writing, I have the ability to give weight to the many ideas that roll around inside of my head like a sea of chaff.   I can distill my thoughts down to 26 characters arranged in a fashion to convey love and hate, joy and sadness.   It's a wonderful feeling to get all of these random thoughts that bounce around my head down in some permanent form that others can read and comment upon.

Writing, to borrow a rather trite expression, is a cathartic exercise.   The act allows me to wrestle with concepts and free them to the world.   But there are dangers in writing.   While sitting at a desk in some anonymous residence, I'm invincible.   I can slay dragons and rescue damsels.   Or rescue dragons and slay damsels, such is the power of the word.   The minute I select to publish though, it's free.   Free for consumption.   Free for interpretation.   Free for criticism.   Free for distribution.   Just as the act of writing is freeing, the act of reading is the opposite.   People are incarcerated by things written by not just me (poor, lowly me) but by thousands of pundits, reporters, and authors across the many mediums that allow print to be given unto life.   The act of publishing a written work puts it in the public domain for review, trapping the reader in the writer's interpretation of events.   What is more scary though is it traps the writer into the reader's ability to interpret the intention of the piece.   Be it a Twitter post or a 1,000 page novel, the writer is as trapped as the reader until the journey is complete.

All of that doom and gloom aside, I hold a neutral view regarding the publishing of things I write.   I can't always make people see things the way I see them.   I am as open to be being misinterpreted as any other writer.   Sometimes, that causes me discomfort.   I want others to accept what I believe are rational arguments.   I want others to feel the emotion I express.   It's not always the case though.   There is something I find more dangerous though than writing a viewpoint and having it misinterpreted.   It's the act of writing something personal as a declaration of self improvement.   Stating, "I'm going to learn how to rebuild a car engine," is limiting myself to a particular act.   What if I fail?   What if I can't figure out how to time a carburetor or misunderstand how to use a torque wrench?   The act of placing a promissory statement in regards to self improvement is one I've often shied away from because of how limiting it can be.   It places handcuffs on my wrists that can't be removed when the readers stop reading - because I know I wrote it and it's out there.   It's a trap within a trap.   Today though, I'm going to make a statement regarding self-improvement as it relates to Magic.   And I want to challenge others to do the same.

Kitchen Table
We all play MTG in a variety of formats.   Some of us like EDH but hate limited and cube.   Others of us only play casual Magic, mixing things up over the kitchen table until we reach wild board states WotC never thought possible.   I've professed my own love over playing limited and my personal confusion at the Standard meta game.   You might think that's bonkers, that the only way to play is Standard, or Modern or Vintage (let's not even talk about Extended, perhaps the most unsupported format in the community).

No matter what format we choose to play, we all do so with a passion.   I've recently expanded my repertoire using EDH and my box of Modern Masters as a springboard.   No matter what I play, I find an increasing love for the game every time I pick up a deck and roll dice for turn.   One thing continually strikes me though.   If I don't have Larry around (my LGS's local rules guru), I feel like I'm flying blind.   I 'know' how some cards are supposed to work with others.   I'm particularly comfortable playing the newer blocks and formats.   EDH and Modern Masters has opened my eyes a bit more to the wider world of card interactions.   Splicing, for instance, is insanely cool but a little bit complicated.   While I have moments when I feel stupid, that doesn't mean I feel good when it happens in the pursuit of new formats and game styles.

I want to understand how the stack works.   I need to know how to work out complicated layers questions. I've want to grok who has priority in any given situation and what to do with the new legend's rule.   So it's time to graduate from Kitchen Table Magic.

Judge!
I've been impressed at all levels with the Magic Judges I've seen and interacted with at events.   I consider them a class above the rest.   I've decided (and this has been on my mind a great deal lately), that I want to be a Magic Judge.   Cue the Rocky music.   Cut to the training montage.   Just don't do a head-shot - I'm not Hollywood material.   Perhaps we could get someone like Brad Pitt to play me...   Oops, sorry.  I drifted off topic for a moment there.

I know there are people out there that will help me with this endeavor (Rocky music slowly rises in the background again).   I'm not sure at the LGS level how that will work out, but I do have a friend who has already offered to help me in this endeavor from a store about an hour away.   I've got a few reasons why I want to do this, some are more personal than others.   But I think it's important to try to share them here.   If I'm going to go all in, I may as well do it with some style.

My first reason is simple.   Please don't gasp when I state it out loud - you'll wake the baby.   Folks, Magic isn't cheap.   There's a reason people call the game cardboard crack.   As a hobby just for myself, it would be one thing.   But I've got a 12 year old in tow everywhere I go that wants to do what I do (and vice versa, to be fair).   Every time I pay for a draft, I'm paying double.   Every time I pay an entry fee?  Double.   Food?  Double.   Come on and sing it with me, Double, Double, Double...   Long term, there are two sustainable models.   Actually, there are three if we count the lottery.   But the hard truth is that I can choose to either play a lot less and not take Jacob to as many events and FNMs or I can work on becoming a Judge, thus helping to lower my costs over time through participating on a different level than as a player.

Finances though aren't the only reason.   If it were, it wouldn't be enough.   I'm a firm believer in service to organizations I care about.   I see Magic as not being much different than Boy Scouts in that regard.   As a leader in Boy Scouts, I've got 14+ years of volunteer experience.   Giving back to help something grow into something better for tomorrow is a worthwhile goal.   Combined with my time in a field of work that relies on customer service, I'm sure the combination of wanting to give back and serving others will work well for me as a judge.   I know donning those black threads is something many experienced players can and should do.   I also realize that not everyone has the ability to deal with someone that has just lost a significant decision.   I'm positive though that I have a pedigree of experiences from my vocation that will serve me well as a judge.

My last reason is perhaps the most selfish.   It's also the reason I imagine many others get into this side of Magic.   I want to better understand the rules.   I don't want to do this to know how to bend them, I want to do this so I know when others are doing so.   I trust a great deal in what my opponents tell me about their board states, as I am often more concerned with mine.   However, the comprehensive rules for Magic are several hundred pages long (I know, as a player I've already read them twice).   To really understand how something on page 56 interacts with something on page 211 is still a mystery to me.   I want to know how to read and interpret the layer upon layer of complexity that powers the MTG engine.   I'm sure I can do it, but without a goal beyond my kitchen table, why would I bother?

Commitment
I'm setting a goal for myself that is quite frankly a bit daunting.   I know that the rules and interactions are complex.   I also know I'm committing myself to a serious goal here by simply putting this down for others to read.   No longer will this be something, "I'd like to do."   Now it is something I will do.   No more lurking in the Judge Tutoring Facebook page for me.   From now own, I'll take a crack as I have time at answering questions.   I'll open up the Comprehensive Rules and start reading through them again.   I'll reach out to my friend (Judge and TO Nick Coss) and ask him how to move forward with learning some of the more complex interactions - or better yet, when I can next come to his store to help out with an event.

It won't be easy.   The hardest part will be the time commitment as I work full-time, volunteer several hours most weeks with Scouts, and I'm a college student as well - kids, finish your degrees when you're young.   But I will do it.

I'll take the black.

[Cue crescendo, ascend steps of staircase in front of Philadelphia Museum of Art, raise hands in air and fade to black.]

__________________________________
This story has been sitting in my list of ideas and stories for over a week.   To be honest, I'm scared of making this type of a commitment - or rather, to make it as a public declaration.   I almost didn't post it.   But I want to see others step up to the challenge.   So I hit the publish button.   I'm not asking for blood, just a little bit of your time if you read this.   Consider what you can give back to the game.   If you don't want to be a Judge, find some way to give back.   The game will be better for it.

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