How to Lose a Tournament in 3 Simple Steps

Saturday 1st October 2022, a day that will go down in history. Kings of the gaming scene traveled to the London Grand Tournament. There, from a mezzanine overlooking the 40k tournament beneath, these Kings Clashed in furious battle to determine who would raise the sword of victory. There’s an actual sword and I have no idea how Javier planned to get it past the UK Border Force on his way home to Spain. Possibly he gains diplomatic immunity from being the Clashiest king?

As well as the mightiest kings, the tournament played host to this intrepid writer and her beloved Northern Alliance. Read on to learn how I ensured my complete and utter defeat…

Step 1: Submit Your List after the Deadline

This isn’t the first time I’ve been guilty of this. Fundamentally it’s extremely rude to miss these deadlines. It causes more work for the tournament organiser and may mess up their own schedule. Moving forwards I’ll aim to add submission deadlines to my calendar. Not only was it rude but it cost me 5 tournament points given to everyone who met the deadline. Starting on the back foot thanks to your own disorganisation is entirely fair, just really demotivating.

Perhaps the most significant issue with submitting late was the rush to get the list sent off. Mistakes were made as I hurried to create a thematic list I would enjoy playing. I’ll dwell on a couple of these in the next section, but in summary I spent too many points creating bloated spellcasters, left out units that had been key performers, obsessed over a single keyword, neglected key considerations, and needlessly limited my battlefield options. My army was extremely fun to play but inefficient and constantly frustrating. Had I sat down to really reflect on my choices and taken into account my previous tournaments this year, perhaps things would have been very different?

Step 2: All Anvil, No Hammer

Northern Alliance offers an array of respectable hammer units. Frostfangs (either a unit or with mounted character) crush like nobody’s business yet I removed my Lord on Frostfang in favour of an over-equipped spellcaster to Surge my Ice Elementals forward. Giants are great for smashing Obsidian Golems or Mammoths yet I removed my usual giant in favour of more Ice Elementals. Cavern Dwellers are pure filth on an MDF square but didn’t fit my theme and thus remained on the shelf. Huscarls are a respectable hammer when used right but lack the ‘Frostbound’ keyword which resulted in me choosing an Ice Naiad horde instead. In my fixation on a theme I removed all the units that could reliably smash through armour.

My core army was an excellent anvil with 10-12″ shooting attacks from almost every unit and Regen, Radiance of Life, and Heal to keep them in the fight. Foolishly I had neglected to take any serious units with a movement over 6″. My Snow Foxes performed well in getting behind enemy lines to sack the quarterback; unfortunately, they weren’t able to sufficiently threaten heavy units or turn flanks. It all led to shooty armies out ranging me, hitty armies grinding me down, and mobile armies running rings around me. The low unit count also saw my anvil units take more than their fair share of flank charges.

Ultimately my choices led to an army with a reactive play style and a lack of options. That wasn’t good enough for a tournament showcasing some of the best players on the international circuit. The best course of action would have been taking a moment to re-read this excellent article by the Dash28 team.

Step 3: Pathetic Planning Predicates Piss Poor Performance

Some folk excel at winging it, living by the seat of their pants and throwing caution to the wind. I’m not one of them. Walking into the tournament I hadn’t sat down and really looked at how to play my list. I had no plan on how to approach each of the scenarios we would be playing. There are loads of great excuses for this such as being busy with the kids during school holidays, making costumes, painting models… ultimately the reasons don’t matter. Regardless of why I wasn’t prepared, it still left me trying to formulate my plans without enough time to fully reflect. I can’t even make the excuse that there isn’t a wealth of information available to inform my decisions on such simple things as deployment.

Coming in last when you haven’t put in the necessary groundwork to play the game is entirely appropriate. I still got everything I wanted from the experience by catching up with (and making new) friends, seeing the new Ogre models, getting the Clash goodie bag, experiencing the drama of hard-fought games, soaking up the atmosphere, and meeting international players. I would have liked to win at least one game though so moving forwards I’ll get back to putting the work in to improve my game. Don’t mistake this reflection for regret or disappointment — the simple opportunity to play games with great people is joyful.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Do you want to place last in an international tournament and be hailed as the world’s worst player? Following the steps above, you are pretty much guaranteed loss after dramatic loss. Myself? I plan to step up and start taking things seriously. Well, semi-seriously. Actually not seriously at all. I will spend time making lists that are competitive rather than fun or thematic. Clash 2023 will be my year to shine.

Speaking of shine, here are some really shiny armies I saw at Clash and wanted to share with everyone. Please let me know if I haven’t credited your work correctly and I’ll update.