AS ABOVE, SO BELOW: A Case for Soft Scores… A Rambling Introspective

Recently the topic of soft scores has come up again on the magical interwebz.  And like most opinion pieces on the internet, the discussion was thoughtful, measured, and intensely respectful…or something…

So, I’m an internet lurker, and I read through the reams of comments that this, and other soft score threads, have produced.  After some review, it seems to me that people generally agree that soft scores are good, in theory, but the application of soft scores in tournaments is the real trick.  How much should paint and sports scores be weighted?  And is it fair if the “overall” winner of a tournament places second in battle but gets pushed into first place by his superior paint score?  What does being the “overall” winner mean anyway?  Why can’t we just all agree that the guy who comes in first in battle should win first overall? 

Well, as some of you may know, I’m a relatively old man on the scene.  I started playing warhammer fantasy battle in 1994.  (I also remember when you summoned screaming demons through your phone line to access the internet, so…)  During that time I’ve watched the hobby scene grow and evolve, and I’d like to share my thoughts on the evolution of soft scores through the years, and how that evolution has improved the Kings of War scene for the community at large.

First off, I’d like to clearly state a few key points that, in my opinion, define the role of the tournament scene and of soft scores in the overall hobby community.

1. In order to grow the game, both in terms of the tournament scene and the overall gaming community, we need to provide a welcoming and engaging atmosphere for prospective players at both levels of the community. 

2. A welcoming and congenial atmosphere is fostered through the application of sports scores (and by using a clean rule set).  By establishing basic standards of player behavior and clean play we keep things fun for everyone.

3. An engaging atmosphere is fostered through the application of paint scores (and by using a clean rule set).  People get inspired by cool looking armies, interesting tables, and slick display boards.  It draws them into the theme and the world that the game is played in.

4. Many tournament attendees are also the organizers of their local Kings of War scene, so by influencing tournament behavior, we influence the behavior of the wider gaming clubs who send people to these events.  (As above, so below).

In a world where people have almost infinite choice in what games they play, we need to provide these two basic things in order to attract, and keep, new players.

So, with that, let’s get started with a trip down memory lane.

It’s the late 1990’s and I’m attending a “Warhammer Fantasy Bring Your Own” mega-battle at a gaming convention in Connecticut.  I’ve been playing tabletop mini games for about four years or so, and I’ve starved for games and new players.  So participating in this demo game scratched a couple itches for me.  The guy running the event has an elf army composed of bare plastic horses, some without heads, and others just lying on their side on their bases.  During the game he didn’t clearly say what he was doing to the other players, and he didn’t explain the rules for his army.  He spent the entire game pulling “gotcha” moves on the other players.  Unsurprisingly he went on to smash everyone.  I was unimpressed, to say the least.  But more importantly, other people who weren’t playing in the game would wander up to the table to see what Warhammer Fantasy was about.  They saw the bare plastic, heard the arguments, and they walked away.  There was nothing at that table for them. 

“But Mike,” I can hear you say, “clearly that guy was awful, but he didn’t represent the wider gaming community!”  Well, let’s fast forward a year or two.

It’s 1998, (I think) and I’m attending one of the first Baltimore Grand Tournaments for WHFB.  Remember, this was the genesis of the Grand Tournament scene that we participate in today.  I played against a German player with a three color minimum goblin army.  Now I’m a gregarious guy, so I tried to engage this gent in small talk to get to know him a little. 

“So, how has your tournament been so far?”

“Good.  I’ve won my two games,” he answered before opening his dice bag.

“That’s cool.  How long have you been playing for?”

<steadfastly ignoring my question>….“Roll for setup?”

“Uh, ok.  I’ve been playing for a few years now.”  I gestured at the gaming hall all around us, “This is my first time doing something like this.  Isn’t it cool?”

He sighed, looked at me, and said “Yes.  But I’m not here to make friends.”

For the rest of the game he barely spoke to me.  Wouldn’t engage in any conversation.  I might as well have been a faceless nobody to him.  It was downright unnerving.  I kept trying to talk to him, but he doubled down, and for one turn didn’t say anything, just pointed at units and rolled dice.  I tried my best to get the win, and I had a chance in the mid-game, but in the end he beat me soundly. 

At the end of the game, I put out my hand for a shake.  “Nice game,” I lied.  He shook my hand and sat back down.  Maybe now that the game was over he’d open up a little.  “I really thought I had a chance there when my steam tank pushed up the middle.”

He sniffed.  “I saw what you were trying to do.  It would not have worked.”  He then proceeded to pack up his minis and didn’t give me another glance. 

I found out later he was steady tournament winner in Europe, and one of the writers for the Warmaster Rule Set.  Was this the best the hobby had to offer?  Now by then I was totally hooked by the hobby.  My local buddies and I played steadily.  But if this was my first introduction to the game, would I have stayed with it?  And what sort of tone was this setting for the future?

(Now I have to say that there were cool things too.  Two of the guys were friends who brought armies that were painted in the same theme. One was a Brettonian force painted like a crusader army in the desert.  The other was a tomb kings army that rose form the grave to fight it.  The level of painting and modelling on display was staggering for its time, and it opened my eyes to what could be done).   

Flash forward to the early 2000’s.  My only grand tournament experience was the GW run GT’s.  My buddies and I entered a WHFB tournament at a gaming convention.  The games were scheduled to go over two days (which was rare for cons at the time.)  Fresh off of our stint in Baltimore for the past few years, we terrorized the other attendees.  We argued rules, we made crass jokes at the other player’s expense, and we were just miserable to play against.  At one point I even said “We’re not here to make friends.  We’re here to win.”  It was so bad, that on the second day everyone else had dropped out except for me and my three buddies.  The TO pulled us aside and told us flat out that everyone had quit because of our behavior.  It didn’t register.  We chalked it up to the fact that we’d won all of our games, and that the other players had quit out of sour grapes.  It was reprehensible.  But that behavior had been rewarded (or at least not penalized), in the bigger tournies we’d been to.  Can I say we didn’t know any better?  Looking back, probably not.  But, like it or not, it was the norm in the games we were playing. 

So this leads to my main point.  To quote an anonymous TO friend of mine, “A TO’s main responsibility is to help the community improve.  Tournament scores give people regular structured feedback on their progress.  If you don’t measure or incentivize things then the community will be slow to improve, (if at all).  In short, soft scores provide an incentive to change behavior and improve the overall scene.”   

Or, to put it in my own words, “Players who win events represent the ‘best’ that our hobby has to offer.  And because of that, no one wants the @$$hole with bare plastic horses winning an event.”

Speaking of incentivizing behavior:

It’s the late 2000’s.  I’ve been regularly attending the “Independent GT” scene for a few years.  Sports scores are a thing, and there’s less arguing at the tables, less obvious bending of the rules.  All in all, games are being played relatively cleanly.  WHFB rules are still sloppy in places, and some people are still willfully misinterpreting the rules in their favor, but there’s a lot less of that happening too.  I’ve cleaned up my act, and I’m usually near the top in sports.  But my painting…..oh my painting…. I’m driving home from Da Boyz GT.  I’d gone 4-1 with dwarves out of around 65 players, and I had been primed for a top ten finish.  At the end of the day I came in 25^th or so.  What happened?  Turns out my paint score was abysmal.  I mean, I thought my minis were painted better than half the room, but the score was in the bottom quarter.  I spoke to the paint judge and he patiently explained to me where I had fallen short.  No shading, no freehand, and biggest of all, my bases were all painted goblin green with patches of green flock.  It just wasn’t good enough.  I raged about the injustice of it all, my friend Cory patiently nodding along as we took the loooong drive home.  The next day I began rebasing the entire army, mini by mini.  After I was done my paint scores consistently improved by 4-5 points.  Instant feedback.  It was awesome.  And it opened my eyes.

My next army I painted an entire undead force with freehand, shading, washes, highlights, and interesting bases.  My paint score improved again.  And I was proud of how I’d done.  Without that awful paint score, I wouldn’t have pushed myself, wouldn’t have stretched into new techniques.  And my other club mates were pushing to improve as well.  As a club, our painting improved exponentially, and we all fed off of each other’s excitement to build and paint new cool armies for use in our local game store. 

It’s around 2010, and I’ve entered the Unplugged GT.  Jon Vanase, Greg Person and the Unplugged Gamers designed a hobby centered event, with battle, paint and sports weighted evenly.  It was the first tourney in the northeast of its kind.  I painted like mad before the event and just finished my wood elf army the night before.  I went all out, with some conversions, some (poorly executed) wet blending, and I event put strings on my bows.  I went 4-1 at the event and pulled down the Complete Hobbyist award, which was analogous to the Masters Paragon award.  I was so proud.     

Fast forward to 2014 or so.  I’m at one of our local GTs, and unbeknownst to us, it’s the last year for WHFB.  One of the players handily destroyed all of his opponents and came in first in battle points by a decent margin.  But his soft scores were lacking.  He was tough on the table and compared to the rest of the room his painting was in the bottom third.  He ended up coming in third overall.  When they called him up to get his best general trophy he broke it in front of everyone.  Classy.  Afterwards he complained that there was no reason to attend the event since he’d “never have enough battle points to win overall.”  My clubmates and I nodded our heads and said “exactly.”  That was the point.

Push forward to 2015.  The Olde World has been destroyed, and the tournament scene has switched over to Kings of War.  A lot of the old WHFB players in our area haven’t migrated over to the new system.  “It’s too simple,” they complained.  We didn’t miss them much.  At the Unplugged GT that year I went 5-0, the first time I’d ever done that at a tourney.  My sports scores were great.  This was my year to win my first tournament.  Nope.  I came in second.  Another player went 4-0-1, and beat me by one point with a beautifully painted and converted skaven army for first overall.  Was I disappointed?  Yep.  But I congratulated him, smiled, and took my trophy.  Because the other guy deserved it.  On that day he was the best “overall” player.  I could have made a couple other decisions in my last game that would have bagged me the two points I needed.  Or I could go back to the paint table and spruce up my old dwarves.  The choice was mine. 

So in the end, what does it all mean?  The Shambling Horde, (my club), will be running a Kings of War demo game at CarnageCon, one of the premier gaming conventions in the northeast.  (Seriously, if you haven’t heard of it look it up.  It’s awesome).  When we discussed what we’d need to run the session, we decided on a few things.  We’ll be bringing our best painted armies for people to play with, with our best terrain.  We’ll be highlighting how easy and streamlined the rule set is, with flash cards for each unit and a one page rules summary for everyone.  And we’ll be moderating the game so that everyone feels welcome and engaged in the action.  That’s the kind of stuff that gets people excited to play. 

We’ve come a long way in the past twenty five years.  I believe the hobby scene is in a really strong place, and that the advent and rise of soft scores has a lot to do with it.  I teach martial arts, and in the dojo I talk about the Partner Preservation Principal.  If I train in a selfish manner and I injure all of my partners, or make it awful for them to train with me, then eventually I’ll have no one left to train with.  It isn’t enough to win games on the table any more.  Whether we like it or not, we’re all ambassadors for the hobby, and that means trying to represent the best that the hobby has to offer, from the tactics on the table, to painting and modelling, to building rapport with people that makes them want to come back for more.  The table top gaming scene is made up first and foremost of people, and in order to have the scene grow and thrive we need to make people feel comfortable, excited, and inspired when they finish up with a game.  Because in the end, no one gets inspired by gray plastic horses…