“I do not run my tournament as an entry qualifier for
somebody else’s tournament.” — RBS
Here’s what I think. Rabelaisian Bronx will be one of the
most scrutinized tournaments this year. This
is a program, and a school, that was dealt what might have been a fatal blow.
In the aftermath, not a single person was left from the previous forensics
regime. It was, in a word, back to square one. (Okay, that’s three words, but
that’s okay if you apply the appropriate Pythonesque math.)
I met early on with Eleanor, a Bronx administrator, who
declared the school’s commitment to put things back together, including the
tournament. Keep in mind that this is not merely a school with a lot of
history, it is one of the premier schools in the country, with one of the best
academic reputations. You walk in the door counting the names of the graduates
who subsequently earned Nobel prizes. You don’t get this at a lot of other
places. In New York, I would say Stuyvesant is the only other public high
school as notable. They are sort of the alpha and omega of public city
scholarship. They’re not easy to get into, and those who do get into them, and
manage them, understand their position in the academic universe. (I will point
out that, outside the realm of NYC public schools, we are blessed with a number
of other spectacular institutions who participate in debate, which is why I
enjoy being around it so much: I’m surrounded by people who are really smart,
who teach me new things all the time; I’ll be fully retiring from this activity
when I come to the mistaken conclusion that I have nothing left to learn from
them. These other institutions, however, are beside the point for the purposes
of this essay, which is specifically about the Bronx.)
My belief early on was that we needed to demonstrate to the
debate community that we were keeping things going by bringing in a team of
tournament directors whose very presence would prove that point. Kirby and Robert were the obvious choices,
and back in April Kirby and Eleanor visited with most of the Bronx tab team down at Stuyvesant (we were running the State debate finals) to
talk things over. Kicking and screaming inside, grinning and bearing it on the
outside, Kirby committed.
It’s been fun bringing Robert and Kirby back into today’s
debate universe, compared to the one they left a decade ago. The biggest
change, of course, is electronics. We do everything, from registration on, on
tabroom. We have electronic ballots (except for Lucas, who writes his decision
on paper plates). We release the Kraken when we’re picking up our morning
caffeine at Starbucks on the way in. The content of the rounds is, aside from
structure, completely new, and even structure gets its critiques. And of
course, there was no PF at Big Bronx, and while Robert is a speechmeister,
there were no IEs at the tournament either. The thing is about twice as big as
it used to be.
I will say that, when the doors opened up on Friday until they closed
late yesterday, the tournament was a success. Was it without issues? No. What tournament is? I was
in the tab room, and there were rules violations to be dealt with, protests,
judges being cited as abusive—all that stuff that every tournament has. Some of
it was real, and some of it was misunderstanding, and some of it might have
been bogus. The point is, did the TDs deal with it in a reasonable, mature way?
Yes. Was everyone happy with the results? No. For instance, if you thought that
there was no rule against X, and it is cited to you that NSDA does have a rule against X, and this
tournament is clearly running by NSDA rules, well, happiness is not your first
response. When you are tabbing a division, your job is the best tabbing
possible, not solving the issues that arise at the tournament (unless that
issue is directly related to tabbing). Our TDs did that job that we shouldn’t
be doing.
Speaking to LD, which is the only division I really paid
much attention to, I would say that we did the job. The rounds turned around in
a timely manor. Tabroom performed perfectly, and when there were glitches, it
was because your fabulous tab team managed to bollix something up. (Note to
self: after carefully creating a judge pool, it might not be a bad idea to
assign that pool to a round or two.) The competition was circuit-strong, and
the judging was not only top drawer, but the prefs were dealt in such a way
that there was literally only one complaint (to wit, “What do you mean Danny
DeBois went home because he isn’t obligated anymore? Get that SOB back
here!!!”) For all I know, everyone was sitting in the cafeteria moaning and
groaning, but when I looked at the schems and saw all those ones (4—count ‘em,
four—judges in the bid round were 2-2 and the rest were all 1s), the Paginator
and I were pretty happy. Let me tell you: there is no greater joy in tab than
hitting the assign-judges button and seeing picket fence after picket fence.
Compare this to TRPC: I dare you.
My guess is that, when the pundits start punding and the
evaluators start evaluating, this tournament will stand as bidworthy—not that
Soddy would care about that. More to the point, it will stand as attendance-worthy.
People are going to come back, because they had a good experience. Even I had a
good experience (Mr. Softee was there all weekend and I got my chocolate brown
bonnet), so I guess I’ll be back there too, the good Lord willin’ and the crick
don’t rise.
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