Which is huge, given that I had assumed I wasn’t A-team material, given that another team didn’t choose me for their tournament roster and I simply didn’t think I had the skills.

Anyways, a couple things have come out of this.

1: I’m starting a new blog. Paleopino - I’m going paleo for the next 6 weeks to see if it’ll improve my performance.

2: I need to set some clear and realistic goals for myself for my skills and the upcoming tournament. Part of this process is doing a basic assessment of what I my strengths and weaknesses are.

Derby isn’t the only thing in my life coming up into tournament season -the Warhammer/40K scene is starting to pick up as the snow melts. The type of goal setting and self-assessment is something mini-wargame players  can do just as well as rollergirls. Here’s my step-by-step guide for ya’ll.

List the things you know you do well. 

On the derby track, I’m strong at communicating and assessing the situation. I pay attention to how many penalties each jammer has at the start of a jam, and am always aware of what colour is going off the track when a penalty whistle blows.

And I can hold that line – being light and agile means I don’t drift off of the inside track line, even at a decent clip.

Be honest about what you can improve.

I know for a fact that I am the least skilled skater on the Belladonnas. I’m not fast and because of my size, contact that would normally not disrupt other skaters tends to destabilize me (I fall a lot).  There’s TONS of room for improvement for me in that capacity..

Focus on a few things you can measure, and what you’ll do to improve them.

Watching my husband evolve from the guy who was at the bottom of Conflict Calgary to the guy who is always in the running for Best Overall at tournaments made it easy. He focused on what he could control at each event. “I’m painting this army to win best painted next event – I’m focusing on highlighting well, and having a bright and noticiable colour scheme.” or  ”I want to focus on getting  ranked higher in the sportsmanship category than I have done before. I’m not going to pull any dirty tricks and I’ll explain to each opponent all the special rules my army employs.”

When he set goals, he also had  plan to reach them.

My goal: I want to be in the best shape I can be so that the few skills I have in my arsenal are deadly – basic body checks, track awareness and improve stability to execute skating skills. To get there, I’m going to skate at least 3 practices a week, and hit the gym at least twice a week. I also want to increase my strength so my time at the gym will be to focused on strength building  for stability in the pack.

I want draw majors because my skating form is so solid that when people try to hit me, they hit me in illegal zones (like my head). There’s no reason they should be able to hit me that well. That means strength and muscular endurance in my quads and core. Just another thing to address in the gym.

Evalute.

I’ll know how much I’ve improved by the end of the 6 weeks. Look over what you’ve accomplished – did you hit the goals you set out?

I can’t say how important this part is. It’s why I’m a spreadsheet whore at gaming tournaments - I want to know where  I was, where I can improve and where I sucked. You can’t figure out what worked and what didn’t unless you evaluate.

With the loaded tournament season try setting yourself some goals and see how it turns out.

I’m writing this because a few  of people tagged me on Facebook for Derby Syphillis or something. To quote the activity, “Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals that roller derby has added to your life.”  I’m also writing this as a reminder to myself of how far I’ve come, and to freshmeat skaters of how far they can go.

Look in the back - that's me running on my toestops. Courtesy of Anthony Canada

I’m going to preface all of this by saying that unlike other gals I happened to benchmark with, I am not a natural skater. For the longest time I was afraid of falling, afraid of the speed, afraid of skating too close to other people and pretty much afraid of my own shadow on skates.

I’ve said it on this blog before (albeit in a different context): it is in adverse situations that you improve.

This is a post about success, and how the path to it is riddled with moments that feel like  failure.

Ten facts about my own derby career that will continue to humble me as I progress through this sport:

1. The first time I went to RDRDA’s freshmeat practice, I’m pretty sure I was on the ground more than I was on my skates.
2. The second time I went to freshmeat practice, I was standing still and sprained my ankle falling backwards. I was out for 3 weeks. I was  embarrassed.
3. The first time Gunpowder Gertie (yes, Team Canada Gunpowder Gertie) coached a freshmeat session, my legs completely and utterly failed me such that I couldn’t even stand up halfway through practice. I was really embarrassed.
4. At the first derby bootcamp I attended, I had Bonnie D. Stoir give me the following one-on-one advice: get a new helmet. She was teaching hitting and we were doing sumo drills (girls starting back to back and turning to hit each other until one fell over or went out of bounds). I had just taken a HUGE hit that sent me flying backwards, had me hit my head pretty hard on the concrete floor and and caused my toestop to go flying out. Yes, I got hit that hard. I was so utterly embarrassed.
5. The first time I tried to benchmark (with Chinook City, since they wanted me to participate in their scrimmages at their practices instead of me practicing my T and plow stops on the side of the gym) I didn’t come close to getting my 25 laps in 5 minutes.
6. The second time I tried to benchmark (with RDRDA at Skate & Destroy) I came close to failing because I just barely could  nail my T-stop or plow stop (which I had been doing with my eyes shut entire bootcamp the day before).
7. The first bout I played in, I can’t really recall what happened. There are, however, pictures on Facebook of me going into hit a someone with my EYES FIRMLY SHUT. And since it’s Facebook, those pictures will never come down.
8. The first time I showed up to RDRDA league practice after benchmarking, I took a fall so bad (trying to skate backwards, no less) that despite immediately standing up (as is my instinct when on the ground) I couldn’t stay standing as Razor was explaining the next drill.  I couldn’t even make it to the chair to give myself some time and space to compose myself  - I had to get wheeled to the side by my husband.
9. When doing my first scrimmage-like drill, I lost control of my own skating and took out another skater (Sweet Pea) pretty friggin’ hard – as in, possible concussion hard. The thought of possibly injuring another skater is a thought that will forever haunt me. It’s actually the thing I’m afraid of the most.
10. The first time I skated at Chinook City’s freshmeat practice (as a benchmarked skater, no less)  I took a fall so hard that I have whiplash  and I pulled my quad.

And ten truths about me and my relationship with derby:

1. I try to compensate for my lack of skills by buying better gear. Wheels, plates, boots.  I am a gearwhore, but I know that none of it actually will make up for a lack of skill.
2. The only gear purchase that I made appropriate for my skill level were my Crashpads and 187 Killer Pro Knees.
3. The only reason why I know how to running toe starts is because I’m always on the ground and trying to catch up to the pack.
4. I have to work for each skill.  Nothing comes natural to me on skates.
5. Driving 90 minutes (180 minutes round trip) to Red Deer for freshmeat practice every week gave me a lot of time to contemplate  whether or not I wanted to do this. Turns out I do.
6. Derby has allowed me to meet strong, confident, self-sufficient women that I actually get along with. I’ve never been able to do that anywhere else.
7. I love derby homework. I’ll read the rules until the cows come home. I’ll watch bouts over and over online to figure out what each player was doing well and what they weren’t. I feel like I’m bringing the Asian student stereotype back.
8. Derby has weight in family planning decisions.
9. I recognize that I may never be great at derby. Maybe it’s because of my personality (I tend to undersell myself, in general). My goals will always remain skill-based (currently: jumping tomahawk stops). Making it onto specific teams is too close to comparing myself against others that I don’t let myself go down that road.
10. While I recognize my struggles make me better, I’m working on getting my daughter on skates early. If she ever wants to do derby, I’d like her to avoid some of the struggles I’m going through.

And here are 5 personal and universal truths about derby:

1. Freshmeat is the worst time to compare your skills to that of others. It’s like comparing relative development of children under the age of five.  By the time they’re all five, they’re pretty much back on even ground. Or at least more even. Same goes for derby. Who knows what I’ll look like on my skates after five years.
2. If I ever compared my skill level to that of other people around me I would have quit ages ago.
3. A great skate tech is to a skater what a great mechanic is to a race car driver. If the driver sucks, there’s nothing a mechanic can do, but  as your skills grow, the magic a good skate tech can work will bring out the best in you.
4. As with all things in life, there is no “right way” or “wrong way”. Just “a way that works” and “a way that doesn’t work”. Definitive answers are for fanatics – religious or otherwise.
5. My self-critical nature is going to be my best asset and worst enemy as I continue my journey. It’ll ensure I’m keenly aware of areas for improvement, but may blind me from what I’ve accomplished.  That’s my struggle.

And there you have it. My derby journey, condensed in 25 points.

For one, each has an overall metagame. And regional metagames. Bouts in Alberta WILL look very different from those in Quebec, for example. Strategies and playstyles differ from league to league, and team to team. For example, RDRDA’s Nightshades, for example are a team of amazing blockers who can control the pace of the game, whereas Med Hat’s Gas City Rollers are a team of fast as hell jammers.

And in roller derby, just like 40K, people who want to win are constantly trying to break the game.

Take, for instance, the “no start”. It’s the derby equivalent of the slow play stall tactic douches use during tournaments, or leafblower lists.

Observe:

Yes, that was 2 minutes of standing around.  The jam went on without the jammers getting whistled on (which happens with the last gal in the pack crosses the pivot line –  a whole 30 feet from where the jammers start.

How does this relate to anything GW? I mean other than the obvious bootie-short wearing, of course.

Well, the WFTDA rules make slow playing legal, because the rules don’t explicitly say that these girls can’t stand around for 2 minutes.  Same goes for the crappy stuff that’s ok in the 40K ruleset (core and codexes put together).

I’ve been playing Warhammer 40K since 2003. I came into the game during 3rd Edition (with trial assault rules).  That’s almost 8 years. 40K is currently in it’s 5th edition.So, rounding up (given that GW is hinting at 6th Ed. 40K next year) and that Rogue Trader (or perhaps ROUGE Trader) launched in 1987, it would mean that GW released a new edition every 4 years.

WFTDA (the Women’s Flat track Derby Association) has been writing rules since 2006. The current rule set of the WFTDA rules (which is the VAST majority of flat track roller derby bouts are played with) is according to WFTDA, “the fifth full revision of the WFTDA rules since the organization developed the first shared rules for the sport of women’s flat track roller derby in 2005.” Quick math, that’s a full revision every year and a bit.

These derby no-starts have come to a head and as such, WFTDA is forced to review their ruleset and amend it for the sake of the game.

Are there broken elements of the 40K? Absolutely.

Is GW willing to fix it? Sure – in 4 years and a bit.  But also in fixing they’ll create a whole new slew of problems.

This is why the ETC can get away with making their stupid silly rules and why tournament organizers like myself have to resort to making up players’ packs which have a page and a half (or more!)  dedicated to writing what goes and what doesn’t go in trying to make this game actually fun.

I’m not asking for a perfect game in either derby or 40K.

I’m asking for a RESPONSIVE game – iterations are better than editions.

If WFTDA leaves the hole open for no-start jams, audiences will stop watching derby.  Games Workshop might delude themselves into believing they manufacture and sell models, but the fact of the matter is that if their game sucks, nobody will buy the models.

Here’s a breakdown of my weekend:

Saturday – Bootcamp:  5 different coaches providing skill and skill building insights. RDRDA’s own Team Canada skater TAZ started the morning off by kicking my ass with off-skate dynamic movements (and in the same manner destroyed my plan to “save” my legs for benchmarking the next day). I got some great pack skill and strategy techniques from Coach Lime, learned some interesting agility drills from Tye Die. Also had the privilege of learning the finer points of hitting and jamming from RDRDA’s Hollywood Homicide and Razor.

Saturday evening – Nightshades Bout: Worked the door for the first half of the bout, but got to see how FAST the pack was moving to keep RDRDA Alum Spaz in check. RDRDA features some of the BEST blockers and it was amazing to see how good the Nightshades were able to control the pace of the bout in the 2nd half and come back to victory!

Sunday morning – Benchmarks: I had the most serious nerves. For those who don’t know, benchmarking is a minimum skills assessment that basically ensures you’re capable of playing the physically demanding sport of derby. Well – I did it! This was a HUGE milestone for me, and there are so many people whose efforts have helped me along the way to get to this point.  I won’t list them all, but pretty much anyone who as seen me on skates has had a hand in both improving my skills and enabling me to skate.

Which brings me to the point of the whole weekend for me – my Bout:

Yes. That’s me. Laying a hit onto Adoll Hitter. And she did go down, if I recall correctly. Next time I’ll be hitting with my eyes open, so I’ll be able to SEE what I’m hitting. Lesson to all: CHECK YOUR BLIND SPOTS.

I barely remember it. Super thanks to Anthony Canada (who shot the photo above) for creating a record of the fact that I actually played and didn’t dream the whole thing up.

Monday –  Bangover. Given I skated for HOURS and I was skating pretty hard throughout that time, it wasn’t particularly surprising that I had a REALLY hard time walking the next day.  Tendons in my knee were inflamed. Stairs were the enemy.

The point of this whole story is that I’m REALLY looking forward to doing it all again. E-Ville Beaver Bash, here I come!

Yes, I'm using a Starcraft II screen cap to illustrate my point.

In the Jaded Gamercast Facebook Group, I recently expressed my disdain for cookie cutter, power-build armies.

Actually, it was this:

What ever happened to wanting to play a fun army that’s fun to play against? Or a fluff army whose victories are unassured but looks AMAZING.

Or how about an army that should, on paper, lose games like frigging crazy but because its both unorthodox and you’ve become skilled with it, you wreck face?

I get that guys like to win, but aren’t people getting sick of cookie cutter armies? I think that THAT is part of the reason why there is so much ennui with 40K right now.

To which one of the pundits of the group, Tim of Douchebag Anonymous, asked:

Those are some of the ways to play, Teri, but not all of them. You don’t really think anyone not doing it in one of the ways listed above is having fun wrong, do you?

To clarify, the people he’s alluding to are the ones I’m also alluding to: the players get to their powergaming phase – the place where taking better units and optimized builds helps compensate for their lack of adaptive skill as a general – and instead of progressing to appreciate the hobby in all its aspects instead of just the game, they stop there. (I’ve talked about this myself on this blog before- I’ve been there as both a 40K player and as roller derby freshmeat.)

My  short answer to Tim is yes. Yes, they’re having fun wrong.

The long answer is this: If their fun comes strictly from winning, they’re kneecapping themselves for wins in the short term but heavy losses over the long term (and possibly even a loss of love for the game thereafter.)

Players become better generals in adverse situations – unbalanced game scenarios, unorthodox army builds, and outside the box strategies all throw wrenches into a player’s gaming experience which forces them to think creatively, use their army differently and understand off-the-wall gaming approaches.  Simply put, generals learn from their defeats (or near defeats), not from their easy victories.

It’s called a learning curve. The problem with these power gaming types gravitating towards the cookie-cutter optimized lists is that the list compensates for their lack of skill. (I’ve written about this before, but in the context of buying 700 roller skates to make me a better derby skater.)

Here’s a video game analogy: by playing these highly-optimized, cookie-cutter lists, players are essentially turning down the game’s difficulty setting.  It’s great when you’re starting out, gives you that hit of dopamine that gamblers get when they strike lucky, but in reality, by being loss averse, players aren’t actually improving as generals as well as they could be with a list built knowing their list has a clear and obvious weakness.

Ultimately, if the amount of fun a player has is related to how much he wins, then playing to master the game should be the means to that goal. That may mean more losses in the shorter term, but far more wins over time.

Players who choose to take the short term gains will suffer some pretty brutal losses when the experience scale goes up – a large tournament setting, for example.  They may be the big fish in their small pond at their local gaming venue, thanks to the power of their list, but when the stakes are raised along with the experience in the room, those same guys may find themselves struggling.

There’s only so many tournaments in a year, so if the ONLY place you can learn (lose) to play the game is tournament, you’ll be behind the curve. If you play games every week outside the tournament setting, playing an underpowered list against lesser generals with BETTER lists will make you a better general, instead of feeding your ego.

If your “fun” is to win, you probably want to also win at big events. You probably want to win when swimming with the sharks. If you choose to play locally and make every game outside that big event setting make you a better general, play for mastery. Don’t play for the win when the wins don’t count.

And, well, if you’re the kind of guy who likes to show up and play games JUST to win and you are uninterested in becoming a better general and your idea of fun is crushing kids at the local GW, well, you’re also having fun the wrong way. I’m not going to elaborate as to why.

I know, it's obvious. But seriously - you go Google Image search "winning" and see if you come up with an image NOT of Charlie Sheen. This was actually the best one. (Photo credit: Alex Pardee)

There’s this thing out there called winning well. There’s also this thing out there called winning poorly.

I was inspired to write this post after hearing harrowing tales of my husband slapping his Jaded Gamercast co-host in the face after beating him in a game of Warhammer Fantasy.  (Just so you know, that’s winning poorly.)

I’m told Lange was being quite a sore loser (a topic I’ll likely write about in the future) but since I always choose my husband first, I thought I’d tackle how to earn sportsmanship points when you’ve won a game.  Winning games and being a fun opponent aren’t mutually exclusive, but I thought I’d throw out a few tips to help you guys to who can’t stop beating face to salvage some of those points.

1) Get to know your opponent.

It’s a beautiful part of this hobby: there are times where you may be standing across from someone you’ve never met at a table to play a game. That’s awesome.

Now if you don’t bother getting to know the guy, learning his name, seeing how long he’s been playing for and how long he’s been playing this army for, you’ve wasted a perfect opportunity.

Not only will it give you some information as to how skilled  this player may be, but also you totally miss an opportunity to make a connection and learn from this person.

Even when I play opponents who are vastly less experienced than I, I still learn plenty. I learn about the metagame from his region or club,  how many guys have picked up the hobby, if there are any events in that neck of the woods and where the good gaming shops are.

All that stuff is good info and at the same time, creates a bond between you and he. It’s a lot harder to give someone less than stellar soft scores if they actually SEEM like a person rather than an adversary.

2) If they’re being overly emotional, give them space.

If you watch any mixed martial arts, you’ll know that at the end of a fight guys run the gamut of emotion. Some scream, some cry, some laugh, some do backflips.

Some guys do that when they lose games. Some guys are really emotional when they play. That’s fine – passion is the foundation on which our geekdom was built.

You don’t know what’s going on in his life – maybe he just got divorced and kicked out of his house by his ex or maybe he just lost custody of his kids. Whatever the reason, that’s his baggage to bear. Sometimes, the heavy stuff manifests in the little things (like miniature wargames).

Yes, composure goes out the window. If they throw dice, if they scream if they pull out their hair, let them. Let them cycle through the emotion and give them space to compose themselves.

3) Openly appreciate (praise) what your opponent did well.

When a player loses, there’s a second (albeit just a second) where he kind of hates the game, hates himself, hates his dice, hates his army and so forth.  It’s a second full of hate.

Praising your opponent, provided it is honest and sincere, helps remind them why they love the game, love the hobby and love playing other people.  Saying things like “Your army is beautifully painted” or “your using that special ability in combination with that psychic power was brilliant” goes a long way in ingratiating yourself to the person you just beat.

4) Thank them.

The game we play isn’t a game of solitaire - playing Dawn of War by yourself in your basement doesn’t compare to the experience of playing in a 50+ man tournament. When you finish playing a game, thank the other person for playing you. Without them, your hobby would be sitting by yourself  with your models playing mathhammer on Bell of Lost Souls.

Shake his hand. Say “Thank you for the great game.”

5) Keep your head.

Sometimes, despite your trying to be cordial, your opponent can’t reciprocate. He’s not being emotional, he’s just being a sore loser. He may  say things that are insulting and disrespectful to you.  He may try to take the win from you for whatever reason. A lot of those statements may start with “If I had…” or “If you hadn’t…” and end with “I wudda won.”

Don’t let him get under your skin.  Don’t let him drag you into the mud too.  If he’s doing this, you’ll probably not salvage any sportsmanship points, but at least you look like the classier gent. And that’s 2 fronts you just won on.

But it seems like the stuff that really tied that whole experience together was spending a sunny afternoon at a beautiful park with my daughter.

That grimace is actually her "photo smile". I know she's happy when she puts it on for me when I point a camera at her.

A little backgrounder: I bailed on the camp midway through day 2.  I’m still really fresh meat (on my skates since April).

I had only done things like hitting for about 90 minutes total. My transitions are sketchy at best.

But those skills were assumed in a mixed skill camp.

I paid for the 3-day camp experience. I went all day on Friday. Needed a new helmet for Saturday (because I got pounded pretty hard a few times) but still stuck in it for the morning.

By the first class after lunch, I was totally fried. Lack of sleep (from being in single-parent mode for the weekend) plus information overload caused my wires to be crossed. I was all over the place. Hell – one girl even called me out after that last class for barking out to my scrimmage line to speed the pack up, despite the fact that it was OUR jammer who was the only one on the track (if you don’t read derbese, that’s pretty much the opposite thing you’d want to do, unless you’ve bet on the other team under the table. For some reason my brain read her BLUE helmet cover as a coloured shirt despite her clearing being dressed in black. Holy stupidity).

I took that as a signal that I was done – and looking at the other classes of the camp, I probably wouldn’t have gotten much out of them since they’re on a way higher level than I’m currently at.

Anyways, I decided to reclaim my motherly guilt (given I had schlepped my tummy-troubled daughter on my parents) and do something we’d both like: go to Prairie Winds Park.

The view from the top of the hill - a steep climb for a 2 year old.

If you can’t tell from the photo, there’s a wading pool and a playground park. We spent nearly 4 hours romping about between the two. I just watched her, and in observing her, it seemed the lessons I learned over the weekend were all tied together. She taught me some very important lessons.

The water is cold, but you’ll get used to it.

Prairie Winds is a wading pool. No heated water. The day was nice enough for it, but the water was pretty cold.

I felt it, I hesitated. I stepped back, and decided to let her play as I watched from the perimeter.

She took her time (a good hour or so) before she’d even let the water come up above her knees. But let me assure you, by the time I changed her out of her bathing suit, she was soaked head to toe. She got comfortable and by the time she was done, she was laying, sitting and splashing her way around.

It’s still like that for me with derby. I’m still adjusting my skates (and still oogling plates) but I’m still slowly getting used to the cold: the way my muscles react to hard skating, the way my shins pain me, they way my elbow always sticks out after a shoulder check, the way my back hates my skating form.

I’m still getting used to the cold.

Sometimes, your body just isn’t ready yet.

Climbing + healthy fear = happy mama

Every time we go to the park, she always climbs. She climbs all over the place.  And she loves to try her hand at this particular curved ladder, no matter which park we’re at.

And every time, she gets near the apex and as it starts to go from climbing up to climbing across, she climbs back down.

I remember that this curved monkey bars thing elude me for a long time as a child too.

She’s a lot like me. I loved to climb, but when things got lateral on those sketchy steel bars, my arms were not strong enough to support me horizontally, my legs and body were too short to allow me to climb forward, and I didn’t have the coordination to move from climbing up to virtually crawling across a set of parallel steel bars.

Her body isn’t ready yet to get from the bottom of the bars to the platform on the other side.  She’s too short, she’s not strong enough and she doesn’t have the coordination. Not yet, anyways. She will. It doesn’t deter her from climbing as far as she can climb, processing a little, trying something a the top, and climbing back down.

She’ll get it eventually. In the meantime, she’ll keep going as far as she can go.

As adults, we’ve been generally walking and moving about without much difficultly for a rather long time. We take for granted it took some time for our bodies to be ready to do the things that seem easy for others to do.

I learned a LOT of new skills and techniques at camp – most of which build on things like transitioning. I’m not there yet, but I’ll still get as close as I can to them. I’ll practice them on the carpet in my skates, I’ll practice them in shoes. I’ll build the muscle memory to ensure that my body can do those moves.

I’ll get my body ready so that when I’m rolling on my skates, I can go as far as my body will take me since my mind already knows where to go.

Getting the job done isn’t always pretty (and it is usually ugly).

In this gaggle of children, she's the one nearest the slide, playing with the yellow and orange cubes.

My daughter climbs platforms. They’re about 18″ high. She’s about 2’11″. Her climbing up onto each platform to get to where she’s standing in the above photo is pretty ugly. Her white dress is actually a dirty grey colour all across the front  because of said climbing.

It’s not pretty. That’s ok. It’s getting her where she wants to go.

I need to accept I’ll look like a crazy flailing fool. Lots. And that’s expected. And that’s ok. I know I can stay upright on my skates doing boring stuff – I should now be ok with flailing and falling doing exciting things.

You can ask for help.

There’s a hill in the background of the pictures of my climbing daughter. It’s a big hill. Particularly if you’re 2 1/2.

I asked her as the sun began going down if she wanted to climb the hill. She said yes.

We made it 1/2 way up and it got too steep for her.  She asked me to carry her. I did.

It wasn’t shameful for her – it was natural.  For me, it too was natural. It was clear she wasn’t going to make it on her own. And I wanted to get her to the top – I wanted to see how she’s see the world from there.

I’m really independent. I have a hard time asking for help. Even when I’m in pain or when I’m struggling, I’ll usually “tough it out”.

When you’re among trusted people – people who genuinely want to help you, it’s ok to ask for help. It’ll be natural for them to help you and they wont think less of you.

So here I am with tons of techniques I can’t quite use yet from the bootcamp. I’ll build in what I can, bank stuff I can’t use now for later, and look forward to more Monday freshmeat practice.

In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the burn on my thighs for carrying a 30lb baby up a big steep hill.

It Came from OOTB 2011 -Edmonton AB – Canada Day Long Weekend:
In less than 5 days, the OOTB club will be running their much lauded annual event. As per usual, the event will be supporting the University of Alberta’s Campus Foodbank (which is just plain awesome, since the majority of return foodbank users are those who actually WORK for the university, as opposed to students). What’s new is they’re RAFFLING OFF trips to LAS VEGAS. Having just been there, I can say this is a prize definitely worth winning. A paltry $50 gets you your games, lunch on Saturday, some swag (I think its shirts this year) and a chance at the great prizes. Details can be found on their website: Out of the Basement Gaming or Painting Legend Dan Byer’s blog, Immaterium Press

WARHAMMER’D -Calgary AB –  July 16 & 17

It turns out that alcohol + wargaming = amazeballs! Mostly filled with Fantasy gamers (with a few spots for 40K) WARHAMMER’D just sounds like a good time. There’s 5 games, 2 mini games and 2 drink tickets that comes with your $80 entry. Also: PRIZES! For more info, check out the WARHAMMER’D Facebook event invite.

I spent last weekend in Las Vegas. In a room with about 200 men and less than a dozen women (a couple of whom, I found out, were working gals).

For me, it was an amazing weekend of gaming and one of the funnest tournaments I’ve ever been a part of.  I rarely get a chance to play and to be able to play 5 players whom I have never played from all corners of North America was a true pleasure.

It was well run.  Food was delicious and plentiful (as those who know me know that my event mantra is that low-blood sugar is the devil to fun games). It was as fun and relaxed as any event in Vegas hosted would be (I showed up to watch the awards presentation in my bathing suit because I was hanging out in the pool as they were tabulating results).

It was an exceptionally fun time.

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I should, however, say that I didn’t qualify to attend. I got an invite because I organize GW circuit events (2 this season, just because of the timing of the things).  Moreover, I think my events, with the possible exception of Astronomi-Con, are the least competitive events of the circuit. They are pretty much a soft-scoreapalooza, where soft scores are approximately half of a player’s total score and I also utilize a composition modifier on battlepoints.

Clearly, I’m no Reece Robbins, or TastyTaste – any gal who shows up to Throne of Skulls with a 72 Firewarrior, completely unmounted, all infantry Tau list certainly isn’t playing to win.

That doesn’t mean I don’t know the game, or know how to run events. I’ve run 3 major local events – the first being a split event that was an all-generalship side (formatted in a similar way to Nova Open) and a narrative side – an ‘Ardboyz tournament before Ardboyz was conceived. The subsequent events were narrative events because a) I more throughly enjoyed running narratives story-driven events and 2) because ‘Ardboyz now existed, I had the space to run a soft, fun, community-building event.

I’ll say it outright: baby seal clubbers aren’t usually welcome to my parties.

And so they stay away – because I make it clear that my event isn’t for them and they won’t be attending the types of events I like to run as much as I won’t enjoy having to host them. I make it clear in my event mechanics, in my player’s pack and in how the top players at my event end up winning that you need to be more than a good general to take home the top prize – you need to be a killer painter and one hell of a sport.

The intention of my events is clear and consistent.  Everything about my event, from how I promote it, to how I describe the event in my players’ pack makes it clear that this is a narrative event (I don’t even use the word tournament).

And I think that’s the first and biggest problem I had with Throne of Skulls. The intent was simply inconsistent. Here’s the line that stuck out to me (and apparently everyone else  who took offense to it):

… it’s worth underlining that our games are intended to be played in a spirit of friendly competition, where winning is less important than making sure that everyone has a great time. Throne of Skulls reflects this, which makes it rather different to many other tournaments.

And therein lies the problem. The Throne of Skulls format does NOT reflect this. The following line in the player’s pack reads:

You can help maintain this friendly spirit by not striving for success at the expense of an opponent’s enjoyment.

But there’s nothing beyond those words to either impose that value or incentivize it for players. Think of it like the wishy-washy phrasing  of the Space Wolves’  Sagas – where its is clear that these benefits SHOULD have drawbacks, but there’s nothing to hold a player to upholding those drawbacks.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Throne of Skulls system, here’s a quick run down:

1) Players play games. Wins are worth 3 points, draws are worth 1 and losses are worth nothing.

2) Bonus points are awarded based on “best game” votes. A player with 1 vote gets 1 extra point, 2 points gets 3 extra points and 3+ points gets 5 extra points on top of points earned from winning/drawing.

2) A player’s score is compared that of all other players with whom he shares a codex. The top player of that codex after five games is the winner and has a chance to win top overall.

3) Top overall player is the player whose individual score has the largest margin over the average of the other player’s scores within his codex.

4) A measure that was being calculated were Skulltaker points – essentially Victory Points garnered only for completely destroying a unit. This metric was only used to measure generalship, but did not at all factor into one’s overall score.

A lot of competitive generals, including Reece, have pointed out that the “vote” system and the comparative scoring really adds in too many random elements to truly appeal to competitive players, who want to test their metal straight up against other players who want to do the same – the nebulous aspects apparently put them off.  And I can see why.

On the flip side, for players who aren’t conqueror-style gamers and are, like me, participants and enjoy the social aspects of the game, it too is problematic. Notice that there are NO SOFT SCORES WHATSOEVER. So how can you expect players to want to not beat each other over the head and win at all costs if they’re being rewarded for doing just that?

I want to have fun games, be inspired by unique builds and tactics and actually play the game – let it come to the end of the game, where a single dice roll determines the outcome.  There’s something incredibly EPIC about that.  I’d rather not show up to a table where the game is already decided outright before the end of the first turn.  I still saw at least 5 Mech-Vet spam Guard lists, and many an all-mounted Solitare-style Eldar.

Looking back at the format, you ultimately have a system that encourages players to take the most unsporting list they can within their codex, so to put themselves  above the other players of their codex. Goatboy it up, gentlemen – breaking the game is just so in this season.

Moreover, there were some GODAWFUL UGLY armies present – some were even barely built (I nicknamed him Mr. “Dark Eldar vehicles don’t need crews to fly”.) There were some amazing looking armies that didn’t get voted in the top 3 best painted that should have been rewarded or recognized in some way for really investing in their armies – they got nothing. The two gentlemen I attended with who garnered 2nd and 3rd Best Painted Army votes (along with a few other painting awards) also didn’t get any sort of meaningful bump from the voting system, and here’s why:  The Best Game votes  usually go to players who were the most losing – which makes sense given that you wouldn’t want to jeopardize your own chances at the top prize by unintentionally giving extra points to someone whose score is similar to your own.

Here’s one more kicker: there’s no sportsmanship awards whatsoever- caring about your opponents didn’t earn you any brownie points unless you lost.  Best general (measured using Skulltaker points) got recognized, Best Painted (at least, in the eyes of the staff) got recognized, but because there was no mechanic to score sportsmanship (even it if was a system used completely separate from one’s overall standing, like the opposite of Skulltaker points) it simply wasn’t recognized. Even Nova Open uses a system to at least notify judges if a game has gone awry as opposed to if a guy is just a total douche.  Call me old fashioned, but I’m one of those girls who believes if you’re selling an event intended to be in the spirit of the game and played for fun, you really should have sportsmanship.

There’s been a lot of talk about how ToS just doesn’t satisfy competitive gamers, but as a true hobbyist,  the format also completely overlooked those of us who play for other reasons than flat out competition.

Games Workshop tried to compromise too much on both ends with Throne of Skulls – instead of choosing one or they other, they cut the baby in half. And really, none of us wanted the half of the dead baby we got.

Looks like you'd have to freehand the fishnets on these minis.

League benchmarks are coming up. That basically means I have to prove that I have certain skills – skating forwards, backwards and on one foot, stopping, jumping, checking and doing lots of really fast laps. There’s also a written part as well – a passing on 80% on a test of the game’s rules.

So I’ve been studying the WFTDA ruleset. Watching Youtube videos and reading blogs about derby bouts.

And I’ve been finding out ways that teams have been breaking the WFTDA ruleset to win.

They call it slow derby.  It’s very strategic, very tactical and can be extremely boring to watch as a spectator. It totally takes away from the spectacle that is derby. It takes away the fun.

I’ve heard it before, particularly in Playing to Win - if you’re not trying to break the game (within the ruleset) you’re not trying to win.

So as I got excited about how I could game roller derby rules, I also realized that it is for this reason sportsmanship has a place in games that are essentially social pastimes turned competitive. Hell, even NovaOpen has a sportsmanship score (which doesn’t effect your overall score, but you does effect whether or not you can actually play or not).

Sportsmanship, done right, is a measure of fun. Just because someone is playing within the rules doesn’t mean that they’re playing within the spirit of the game.

And I know the term spirit of the game is nebulous and differs from player to player, but I don’t think that’s a reason why we should eschew it altogether.  It just means we need to work at it more to make it more meaningful – I know it’s always the score I’m trying to figure out how we can make better.

But what do you think? Is it fun to play people who play within the letter of the rules but outside the spirit of the game? Do you like the idea of sportsmanship? Have you seen it done well? Done poorly? Let me know!