You need to understand: This hobby is ridiculous. Look in the mirror and stare what what you are: a quasi-Soviet Kommander? An undead Lich surviving centuries serving a dragon? A noble Knight Commander? A Druid, Shaman, or Tyrant?
This is a game where steam-powered, magical robots dot the landscape in sooty and violent splotches. Taking this too seriously is going to lead to a delusion so grand, the very bowels of the Earth (or Caen, I guess at this point,) will quiver. In a escapist nutshell, that has been the key to good sportsmanship.
It’s easy, almost alluring, to fall into bad habits here. Even with Mark II’s streamlined and “more balanced” approach, there are going to be some winners and losers. Some options and combinations are going to be clear and away more potent than others. However, you must learn to identify when Sweet Lady ‘Sperg rears her many-headed visage at you, and use your…mirror shield of reason, or whatever, to tell her to piss off.
I believe the fundamental key to this is to leave the fluff at home. Yes, I find the Iron Kingdoms a savage and fascinating world that I want to know all about, and yet never want to live there. Yes, there are super crazy-awesome things that happen everyday that weave a fabric of totally sweet events, peoples, and places. No, that doesn’t mean we need to argue about how the description of Doomreavers make them out to be nigh-unstoppable badasses. Then again, if that’s all we lsiten to, we’re all going to be a bunch of nigh-unstoppable paragons of monster trucks that walk like a man. So let’s knock it off, and just stick with the rules. Leaving the fluff behind to an extent helps take the serious edge off the game, and makes it more about you and someone else playing a game. I’m not playing Clue with people who want to talk in a terrible British accent when they play Col. Mustard, so I’m not taking a lot of flak here. No gets upset playing Sorry and saying tile #41 is totally overpowered. Well, someone may, but they’ve got bigger issues, such as being a douche during a Milton-Bradley game.
Once we quit the smoky haze of fluff cold turkey, we can see the game for what it is: an excuse to meet other nerds and appreciate paint jobs. That’s not something to get caught up in a tizzy about. Excited for, anticipate, and pumped over, sure, but not angry. The game is not a manliness litmus test, and even if it was, what kind of a test is that? A test to your cleverness or overall virility is to move tiny soldiers around roll dice? I would think a test like that would involve doing something with trees, like chewing on a Redwood tree until you spit out a baseball bat and then use it to club a bear or something.
Ok, so we don’t have real lives on the line, and no one’s going to cite losing a game to their ever-growing case to provide your balls have actually retracted back into you (you little girl, you,) what’s left to get up in arms about? Well, three things. You woman.
1. Dice. Dice hate is the most frequent and most hilarious source of gaming frustration, except it’s not really funny to you at the time. Yeah, we’ve all had turns or even whole games where we just can’t get a decent roll off. This is, however, about as effective as going out into the street and cursing Mars for being in the House of Pisces and totally fucking up your horoscope and therefore the reason why you didn’t get all 6 McNuggets in your value meal. Random factors like dice, spinners, the way the deck is shuffled, and giving a shit where astral bodies lie are just there. Even if there is a casual link between karma and dice, what would happen? Are you suddenly going to make donations to children’s hospitals the night before a big tournament? No, you’re going to be the same jerk. So yes, your dice can “hate” you, but again, who cares? If your opponent is anyone who’s even remotely able to sense others (women call it “being women,” we men just call it “not being a gigantic prick,”) they’re probably going to commiserate with you, because chances are, they want a consolation when their turn comes up to have a bad roll.
2. Prizes, prizes, priz-ises. I’m not going to lie: I am a completist. I have worked and cajoled and even brokered a few out-of-game deals (as in, after the game, not rigging the finals) to acquire a full set of awards from the past few years. I don’t show them off to others, and I don’t rub them in people’s faces because I like having a whole set. I like it for me. So believe me, I have felt the fever for the flavor of coins, pins, and trophies. It should be tempered, though, that the coin gives your a feeling of accomplishment for, what, three to four hours tops, but you have to face most of your competitors many more times. Besmirching your good name in the community for a single promotional metal disc is a pretty bad trade. Hell, Judas got thirty times that, and everybody still held a grudge.
3. Cheating. “Teh Cheatzors” are indeed a problem. Much like the wily and crafty badger, it must be dealt with care. Start by asking and double checking rules that are interpreted loosely. if you think it’s an issue, ask them to lave the ruler locked and on the table. There’s nothing wrong with it. If that is met with hostility, or if it continues, nab a judge. Do it between rounds, if you don’t feel confrontational. Believe me when I say every TO and PG I’ve ever met has a problem with cheating, and reports are added up, and they do keep track. In the end, though, nothing to get all Bruce Banner’d over. Avoid him in casual, and report him when does stuff in tournaments. It may suck a few times, but they will get booted. I’ve seen it happen.
Identifying and reasoning all the ways we can freak out over the game is one thing, but it’s not as easy to read it and turn into some kind of crazy Jedi, coolly taking the good with the bad. (The first person to try to Jedi me is going to earn a smack in the mouth.) No, the truth is that we’ll need to deal with this the way an alcoholic has to deal with his wife being a marketing rep for Captain Morgan. You love this game, you like the hobby. What it is and what it does for you is important, otherwise you wouldn’t spend time on it. So learning to relax when things aren’t coming up 6s for you will be hard. It’s still hard for me. Still…
Difficulty makes a thing worthy of effort.
4 comments
Comment by Penguin on January 26, 2010 at 11:47 pm
I have to disagree with your base principal. Warmachine isn’t “to be social” to me, it is a game first and foremost, the side effect of which are being social and seeing others painted models. While I agree with the sentiment of your post I think you should step back from your own view point and consider the others (maybe a series of posts?). You’re taking the social-gamer view point and ignoring the painting guy who plays rarely but loces to paint his models, the fluff nut who just plays for the storys that happen and me, the anti-social jerk who plays purely for the game.
Comment by Von on January 27, 2010 at 5:14 am
Your logic’s wobbly. You talk about leaving the fluff at home and then give an example of someone being a douche over what is and ain’t overpowered, which is a rules thing.
I agree with your general principles, but I don’t agree with your solution. I’ve had many – more, in fact – vociferous arguments over rules and balance and errat and play than I have over background. Which isn’t to say that background doesn’t cause ‘em too, and I’m as disappointed as anyone when someone overidentifies with their faction or game or hobby and uses that as an excuse to douche out.
Comment by Stunami on January 27, 2010 at 4:51 pm
Rules arguments are one thing. If rules are vague (and there are very few now in Mk II,) I believe that it comes to the maturity of the players to have a TO arbitrate, or just roll off. I honestly don’t see many people getting in a huff because of how the rules are written, but more often of “here’s the kind of people they are/role they play, so they should therefore do this” variety. A common example I heard during the Field Test was about Cygnarans losing Fearless almost completely.
Yes, this is a game. However, games of this type are a social function. If you wanted a game where the social contract doesn’t apply, there are several video games that offer wonderful single player experiences. Miniatures, though, require someone else, and I believe that if you don’t recognize that, you will be hard pressed to find opponents soon. I won’t deny that there are people who come for things other than a social experience, but when talking about sportsmanship, that’s pretty much the key topic. Painting, fluff, and rules knowledge do not impact most people’s minds when giving out sportsman rankings. How they conduct themselves and act during their game enters into every time. I’m not saying bake a batch of brownies for everybody, but in order to develop your “inner sportsman” or whatever, you need be a generally agreeable dude.
Comment by Sheetz on January 27, 2010 at 6:19 pm
This was a nice article. Nice touches of humor to color your points. I found myself in agreement with most of what you said. When you really boil it down, it’s a social exercise. Thanks.