I’m sure you’ve all heard the classic stereotype about politicians. The one about how they’re all terrible human beings. I for one am not so pessimistic, and think things are much simpler than all that. The fact is, some people are just jerks, no matter what the profession. So why is it that when Senator X says something cruel, or even slightly off color, everyone condemns them to Monster Island? When the janitor at your office makes a snide comment about your shirt as you’re leaving the office, you just shrug your shoulders, and maybe tell him his mop is so last year.
Why the difference? It’s all about their place in the community. One holds a great deal of power, and is automatically held to a higher standard. We expect perfection out of the most powerful members of our society.
So what does this have to do with any of us? Judges are typically the people in any given Magic community that have the most influence – if not at the store level, then certainly at premiere events. Much like politicians, we’re under careful watch by the Magic public. I certainly don’t mind being held to a high standard, but it does present a very interesting circumstance in which, even when I’m not on the floor, judging can often dictate my behavior.
One of the classic controversial discussions stirred up by players in their articles is the use of those Spikey plays that border on rule breaking. Half of the populace will suggest we lock them in the stockades and throw junk rares at them, and the other half will applaud them for their expert knowledge. I won’t get into sides on this, but imagine how many sneaky plays that a judge really up on their rules knowledge can see…
Picture yourself as a relatively new tournament player. You’ve been an FNM player for about a year, and you’ve been doing pretty well for yourself. One day a new guy shows up, and you get paired against him in the first round. You have a board position of 1 Verdant Catacombs, 4 Scalding Tarn, and nothing else. (Please don’t question my knowledge of Standard.)
New Shadow Player: “Pithing Needle naming Verdant Catacombs.”
You: *thinking* This guy is either a noob or he thinks I’m a chump. I know I still have a chance to sacrifice my Catacombs, and he’ll be stuck with a useless Needle.
You: “I’ll sacrifice my Catacombs. Needle resolves.”
NSP: “Alright. I’ll name Scalding Tarn.”
You: “Aha! You have to stick with the choice you made.”
NSP: “Aha! If a player casts a spell or activates an ability and announces choices for it that are not normally made until resolution, the player must adhere to those choices unless an opponent responds to that spell or ability.” (Direct quote from the MTR, for those interested)
You: “Oh… Alright. Can I just sacrifice my Scalding Tarns?”
NSP: “Heck no. One mana destroy four lands is too hot to pass up. Time to crush you.”
You’d get very frustrated by losing to such a play. Sure, you can understand why someone would do that at one of those Pro Tour thingies that you’ve read about on the Magic website, but everyone else at the store had been so nice about teaching you the rules. To make matters worse, you get paired against him the following two weeks, and in both matches he uses some sneaky moves to win a game. After three weeks you say enough is enough, pack up your stuff, and try a different store. You don’t like it quite as much, but at least that jerk isn’t there.
After a month at that store, your new friends convince you to go to a PTQ. You decide to give it a go, and you’re all psyched for your first real competition. As you’re getting seated, ready to have this newfangled decklist thingy collected, and a man is introduced as your Head Judge. He steps out of the shadows toward the microphone…
It’s him!
This is the guy in charge of keeping this tournament fair and fun? The guy that pulled every trick in the book to win at FNM?
Right off the bat, you’re going to assume that every judge is some power-tripping rules lawyer, and you want nothing to do with them. You’re certainly not going to seek out any contact with them, and if you don’t get a chance to interact with them during the day, there is no way your impression is going to change. Unless you do particularly well, you’re probably going to avoid going back.
Maybe this is a hyperbole, or maybe I’m underestimating the possibilities, but if this story ever rang true, the behavior of that judge just killed the opportunity to get a new player on the PTQ scene.
Alternatively, imagine that the first time you meet this judge at FNM, after he beats, or loses to you with zero dirty tricks, he engages you in some friendly banter, offers you some tips to improve your deck, and has a sincere desire to be your friend. He invites you to that same PTQ, and when you see him on the judging staff, you see a friend. You chat to him at the PTQ, get into a conversation with some other judges in the process, and have a great experience.
At FNM the following week, you tell everyone what a great time you had, and convince more people to come next time. Now instead of losing one PTQ player, we’ve gained a few.
So as a judge, am I handicapped when I’m in player mode? Well, technically I can do whatever I want, as long as its legal, but how the player community views a judge is strongly related to their success as a judge. So realistically, if I want to have success in the judge program, I can’t join the Dark Side when I’m making plays.
So I’m a good boy when I judge and when I play. Will Santa be leaving judge foils under the tree, or will it be a stocking full of commons? It turns out there is one other place he keeps his eye on.
The Internet.
As it turns out, some people on the Internet aren’t very nice. So much so that people come to expect this. I haven’t done the research to crunch the numbers, but I expect almost anyone can be about 20% meaner and people won’t question it. Judges don’t qualify for that “almost anyone” category.
Since we are seen as professionals, we have to act as such. When I was a younger lad, if someone laid out a heavy putdown about my momma on a forum, I’d return fire. I’m not implying that I yearn for the days of being fifteen and having the opportunity to trash talk people, but if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to get away with it, even in a dirty online atmosphere. I have to keep that professional appearance wherever I go, and resorting to childish name calling compromises my professional appearance. Since a player’s reputation isn’t integral to their ability to function at an event, they can get away with a lot more.
Leaning back on my politician metaphor. Imagine if a political analyst published an article criticizing the President. Seems like business as usual. Now imagine that the President decided to publish an article bad-mouthing that writer. That might be slightly more unpopular.
I’m glad that we have these standards set for ourselves. I’ve found that players react in a positive fashion to a judge being polite and friendly with them, and a happy player base is good for everyone. I hope that your experiences with judges have been in line with the expectations I’ve outlined in this article.
Until next time, stay out of the penalty box.