GenCon SoCal Report

I went to GenCon SoCal last weekend.



GenCon SoCal 2004 Convention Report
by Max Hufnagel


Friday (Con minus 6):
Jan Malina alerts me to the fact that GenCon SoCal is less than a week away. Somehow this fact had escaped me. I knew Thanksgiving was the last weekend in November. I knew the convention was the first weekend in December. The fact that the first weekend in December immediately follows the last weekend in November never quite registered. I don’t know why – maybe I thought there was some kind of extra “leap weekend” between them.

I start scrambling to make arrangement. A place to stay, a way to get there, time off from work, etc. Man, this sure would have been easier if I did it even as little as a week earlier.

Sunday (Con minus 4):
I suddenly realize that besides a place to stay in Anaheim and a way to get there, I need some Shadowfist decks. I enter my sanctum sanctorum, and approach my card boxes. Suddenly, a dreadful, overpowering stench assails me! Yuck! What is that smell? Where is it coming from?

Eyes watering, nose cringing, I track the horrible smell down to ... my Shadowfist box o’ decks. With shaking hands, I open the box. My nose almost crawls off my face. The stench – unbearable – is coming from my decks. All of them. They stink. Bad.

Actually, they don’t really stink, at least not in a physical sense. But none of them, not one, are worth playing, worth salvaging. I tear them all apart, and hope I can come up with decks to play in time for the con.

Tuesday (Con minus two):
Jan comes over to my place to work on decks. First, we go to dinner at the Hawaiian place a couple of blocks over. Aloha, yummy!

While there are five Shadowfist events at the con we need to prepare for, we spend almost the entire evening trying to choose cool designators for Comrades in Arms. The choice for Jan's deck is easy, since he has already decided "Dragon" would be fun, different enough, and effective enough to play. The choice of a designator for my deck is much more problematic.

I want something effective, which unfortunately rules out "Monkeys". I also want to avoid the obvious, which rules out things like "Fire". After trying and dismissing everything from "Netherworld" (too easy) to "Scientist" (too Eric Lui crazy), we settle on "Darkness" – not as non-obvious as I want, but far less so than "Fire".

Julian Lighton's amazing “Evil” and “Big” decks nearly inspire me to try something as ambitious. I come to my senses when I realize I won’t have a chance to play and tweak the decks before the con. I’m confident in my ability to build and play a “Darkness” deck with no testing, but “Mad” I’m not. ("Mad" was one of the designators I was considering. Get it? Haha?)

Since I've never actually played a "Darkness" deck, I tell myself I haven’t sold out completely. A small lie, one I don't notice.

After the nightmare of choosing designators, actual deck building goes quickly and smoothly. After finishing the CiA decks, we spend about 20 minutes discussing and building decks for the Array of Stunts game. It’s now Thursday, and time for Jan to head home. Unfortunately, I still need decks for 100 Names, dueling, and multiplayer.

Wednesday (Con minus one):
What to do, what to do. Three decks to make, and less than two hours in which to make them. Fortunately, a voice in my head – different from the usual ones – tells me to use a proven dueling deck, rather than try to build and tune a new one from scratch. I'm no fool, or not as much as some might think (the bastiches), so I listen to this voice, and copy a deck I find at http://netherworld.chimpshack.org/. What a great site the Chimpshack is! Eric Lui is the Man. Or, in the case, the Chimp.

Once done copying a dueling deck, I throw together a pile of "good cards" with duplicates, and another with no duplicates. These will be my multiplayer and 100 Names decks, I declare. Bwahahah!

Since I have an hour left, I reconsider this decision, and make a real multiplayer deck. I base it off a friend's deck – more on this later.

With 5 minutes to go, I tweak the pile with no duplicates so it's not just a big pile, but rather a medium-sized pile of good Dragon cards, with a smaller pile of good Architect cards added. 100 Names, ready to go!

Thursday (Connnnnnn!!!!!):
Paul Myers drives himself, Jan, Jeff "Cavebear" Stroud, and me down to Anaheim. Although I volunteer to take a shift driving, it turns out Paul will drive the entire way, and (on Sunday) the entire way back, thus earning him the nickname "Ol' Constitution". Or maybe "The Drivin' Guy".

We stop at a steak place for late lunch/early dinner. I'm not excited by the prospect, and would rather have gone to a fast-food burger place, but I'm not The Drivin' Guy. When I leave the table to wash my hands, the guys put Tabasco (tm) sauce into my iced tea. Hilarity ensues.

This unwarranted defilement of my refreshing beverage prompts me to start my soon-to-be famous List of Grudges. The names of my traveling companions are the first on the list. They will not be the last.

After these and other assorted hi-jinks, some including delicious baked yams, we get back on the road and, after only a few hours of mind-numbing traffic, make it to the convention center. On the way, we pass the dining establishment known as Tommy's, but are too full to partake. (More on this mysterious Tommy's place later.)

Before the 100 Names tournament begins, Jan wanders by and sees me shuffling. He notices I’m playing Dragon with a splash of Architect, and says, “Uh oh. That’s what I’m playing.”

He names a few cards. I nod. I name a few other cards. He nods. He names a not-too-obvious card. Yes, it’s in my deck. I name another not-too-obvious card. He grimaces – it’s in his deck, too.

Apparently, 100 Names decks can lack a bit of variety. Rather than play nearly identical decks, Jan decides to play Ascended.

Next to me, Jeff is going through his deck. “Drat,” he mutters. (Well, to be honest, in all likelihood he didn’t mutter “Drat.” I’m probably one of the only people around who says things like “Drat”. Perhaps he says something Canadian.) Jeff is obviously not 100% happy with his deck. He is lacking two cards: one he wants, the other one he needs.

He wants a Temple of Celestial Mercy. Cheerfully, I loan him one from my trade binder. (He has yet to return this card, by the way. The bastitch.) He needs a House on the Hill. I have only one House on the Hill with me – the one in my 100 Names deck. With no hesitation, I pull it from my deck and hand it to him.

Stinkin’ Jedi mind control. Jeff earns the honor of being the first to be entered on my List of Grudges more than once.

The next few hours are very frustrating. Despite the “plenty of” Dragon resource sources left in my deck (“plenty of” being defined as the same I had before, minus one), I can’t seem to pull a second Dragon resource. Ever. Some games, I can’t even pull a first. Some people are think I’m playing straight Architect. I'm not, at least not intentionally.

Fortunately, even without Dragon hitters, Dragon/Architect is strong in 100 Names. Not as strong as Ascended when played by Jan, though. Jan wins the event; I come in 2nd.

Friday Morning (Connnnnnn!!!!! plus one):
The Comrades in Arms event will soon begin. I'm excited to be playing Monkeys again. Then I realize I'm not playing Monkeys. I'm playing Darkness. How sad. Somewhere, a Monkey is crying.

Poor Monkey. Poor, poor Monkey.

Of course, the last time I played Monkeys I was beat down down down. Sure, it was by Erik Berg, so I might have been beat down anyway, but down x 3? Down x 2, maybe, maybe even down x 2.25, but down x 3? I don't think so.

Yes, the Monkeys have failed me before. In response, in anger – well, not anger, but in a slight bit of grumpiness, perhaps -- I have turned to the Dark(ness) side. And the Dark(ness) side is strong. Strong enough to win. So I do. Win, that is. Bwahahah!

But fear not, Monkeys. Given some of the new cards in 2FT, I'll undoubtedly be playing Monkeys again, and soon. Oook ook ook!

Friday Evening (Connnnnnn!!!!! plus one):
Seated close by, where they stay for the rest of the weekend, another game: Killer Bunnies. Some weird card game featuring amusing yet violent animals. How silly. From them I pick up a new catch phrase, a new meme: "I'm rich in carrots." I try to spread it to everyone I play against.

Everyone has more Power than I do? "That's ok," I say. ""I'm rich in carrots." Everyone is beating me down turn after turn without mercy? "I don't mind. I'm rich in carrots."

It never really catches on.

The Whirlpool of Blood begins. This is a tricky format, Shadowfist draft. I'm seated next to the Erik Berg, one of the best Shadowfist players in the world. His signature format, the format in which he is known to be nigh-unbeatable: draft.

Bring it.

On the far side of Mr. Berg, the innocuous-seeming David Metz. Metz claims his knowledge of Shadowfist comes entirely from a five-minute speech, that he's new New NEW to the game. Who gave him this five-minute speech is unclear; based on his performance in the tournament, I would not doubt some alternate-universe Shadowfist expert transmitting all his knowledge in compressed form at an ultra-high rate of speed. I first start suspecting Metz of being a ringer when I find out he's from Las Vegas, home of Mephistopheles, six of the current mortal incarnations of the Seven Deadly Sins, and, of course, the mysterious yet powerful entity known to some as The Librarian (a.k.a. Darren Miguez). I let Berg know of my suspicions.

Metz dominates every game I see him in, but still professes to be a new New NEW player. Of course, new players always dominate games! How silly of me to think otherwise.

Despite this feeble attempt at subterfuge, Erik Berg manages to crush all who oppose him, including David Metz. Take that! The Berg emerges victorious, bloody but unbowed.

Note: I'm not sure if draft is Erik Berg's signature format or not. But I am sure he's really good at it.

Saturday Morning (Connnnnnn!!!!! plus two):
Berg brings me plastic containers of Candy Monkey Poo. Some less sophisticated souls believe the labeling on the package, and wonder why Erik is gifting me with chocolate pudding. They will know soon enough, once the poo-flinging begins!

Despite the Candy Monkey Poo, I am less chipper than usual. I am already very tired, short of sleep. I'm a light sleeper, and one of the people sharing the hotel room sleeps loudly. That is, they make loud noises when they sleep. Next time, I will bring earplugs or have my own room.

Even the excitement of Shadowfist dueling doesn't cheer me up. I play terribly. I lose games I should win. The games I do win, I shouldn't; the mistakes I make are obvious and plentiful. Finally, after far too long, the tournament ends. Jan wins. Shocking!

Saturday Evening (Connnnnnn!!!!! plus two):
Steve Valladolid arrives. Yay! Hurrah! One of my oldest friends, I rarely see him anymore. He's one of the best card players I know: sharp, cool, unflappable, and unreadable. Card playing aside, he's one of the smoothest people I know.

Steve has arrive in time to enter the Final Brawl, the "standard" multiplayer Shadowfist tournament – no special play rules, no special deck construction rules. Normal Shadowfist, if such a designation makes sense.

I'm playing a Guiding Hand control deck, based off one of Steve's tournament-winning designs. How well I've adapted Steve's ideas to my style of play remains to be seen.

I fear much of Saturday evening will forever be lost to us. My notes are sketchy at this point, my memories sketchier. I know every game I played in was fraught with sloppy play, errors of vast magnitude. And it wasn't just me making these boo-boos. Earl Miles, a normally very precise player was making them. So was Steve. Andrew Davidson, the Arthur Fonzarelli of Shadowfist, made one that might have cost him the tournament. Paul Myers made at least two big mistakes in the same game; despite these, Paul manages to squeak an attack through and win.

The rest of my notes on the Saturday evening game are vague, cryptic: "Jeff added to List of Grudges again. Paul Gerardi is a bad boy. Brian Kelley, from Cambridge –> enough to get on List of Grudges. Earl: Mean to fish." What these notes mean, we may never know.

After the tournament, a number of us Shadowfist players dared to enter the True Dungeon, a live-action dungeon, no LARPing required. It was not unfun, enough so that some of us are likely to try it again in the future. For more information, read True Dungeon: Tales of Slaughter and Silliness, coming soon to an Internet near you!

Sunday Morning (Connnnnnn!!!!! plus three):
Morning comes too early, especially when one was up fighting (or at least being attacked by) giant spiders and wimpy lizard men until 2AM.

The event this morning is Array of Stunts, a format in which few of us have ever played. The format creator, Andrew Davidson, is running the show, and has provided original art as a first-place prize: Stolen Police Car, matted with a copy of the card itself.

I really want to win. Stolen Police Car rules!

Long story short (ha!), I don't win. Jan wins.

Erik Berg beat me down, enough so that Andrew (running the game) is prompted to ask me later about it. "Does Erik hate you? Why did he take you out of the game like that?"

I asked Erik later about it. He said he wanted to take 2nd place, and I was in his way. Once Jan managed to get both Shadowfist and Fortune of the Turtle on his Tranquil Persuader, we both knew it was over, that Jan was going to win. The two Contacts of the Fox Jan put on it later were just icing on the cake – the cake of our doom!

I don't blame Erik for beating on me. It was the right thing to do. Sort of.

The convention is over, but the trip home is just beginning. Jeff "Cavebear" Stroud mentions his disappointment at not having won an event. Everyone else in the car had won, and not winning is something new to Jeff. Someone suggests Jeff was good luck for the rest of us. Based on this, I decide he is no longer to be called "Cavebear." Instead, he will henceforth be known as "Lucky Bear."

By the time we get home, Jeff will be re-rechristened. His new name: "Lucky Flounder".

On the way home, we stop to have dinner at Tommy's. Tommy's is an old-fashioned hamburger place, much like the beloved In-and-Out. The main difference: Tommy's put chili on everything. Hamburgers. Cheeseburgers. French Fries. Milkshakes. Napkins. Everything. Well, maybe not milkshakes. You can special order your food without chili, and I consider doing so for one brief moment. But then I come to my senses. What's the point of coming to Tommy's if you don't want chili?

And it's good chili.

Then we went home.

It occurs to me now, almost a week after eating at Tommy's, that life is like Tommy's menu, and my Shadowfist friends are like chili. As individuals, the friends I've found through Shadowfist are extraordinary. As a group, though, their personalities blended into a fantastic mélange that somehow lets the flavor of each part still come through – they are matchless, unbeatable, the best.

And I ask myself again: What's the point of coming to Tommy's if you don't want chili?

It's good chili.

The End. (Until next time.)

Deck lists, etc. to follow.