Tuesday, January 12, 2016

In which we disparage the amateurs and the losers

It continues to amaze me how many people haven’t really figured out that they need to register early for tournaments. Take the Quakers. Registration opened November 1st, and slots were assigned a couple of weeks later. And there’s 93 teams on the PF waitlist. Over a third of those on the waitlist registered for the tournament within the last week! I mean, really? It’s just not that hard. You see a tournament is open, you register some TBAs, as the deadline approaches you solidify your entry with real names, and there you are. This would seem to me much easier than sending me an email complaining about the unfairness of the registration process, the clock, and life in general.

Can you imagine what these people, or their ilk, did back in the days before electronic registration and email, when you found out the information on a tournament because they might send you a printed invitation (if you had attended last year) and you responded by fax? Did these people ever actually leave the house? The hardest thing for me starting out 20 years ago was getting information on tournaments and planning my team calendar. Today, that would be the easiest thing. But I guess, with a little work and prayer and a dash of spice, you can take the easiest thing in the world and make it hard, and then blame everyone but yourself for the consequences.

Sigh. I know I’m whining. It’s the college tournaments. They can bring almost anyone to their knees. So many of the attendees are amateurs, and I’m sympathetic to a degree, but then again, if you’re spending all that money to attend an Ivy tournament like the Gem or Quakers, both of which I’m now in the middle of, shouldn’t you have some idea how forensics works? If you just want a field trip to a big city, you can arrange that a lot better without putting a debate tournament into the middle of your plans.

Of course, it’s not only the amateurs that bug me. The pros who are anything but are worse. For instance, if you have a team the size of Toledo, and have had this team since the W. H. Harrison Administration, haven’t you by now come up with the odd alum who will come back and judge for you? Was their fours years with you such a horror that they’re not willing to come back for the occasional weekend to give back to the team? Look around. There are some teams that are, well, teeming with alums. And there are some that wouldn’t know an alum from a hole in the ground. Which one are you? If it’s the latter, you are doing this job wrong. Debate is a continuum in one’s life. It makes high school students into unique and powerful individuals who want nothing more than to develop more unique and powerful individuals, if for no other reason than to have someone else intelligent to rule the world with some day. I absolutely equate and measure good debate coaching by the number of alums that coach attracts to help out. I have plenty of good examples of it in my region. It’s more the norm than not, but then again, I do see schools year after year that participate in debate but apparently with such disdain that the students are out of there like a shot on graduation day, never to return. It’s the coaches. They’re not doing the job right, or maybe they’re doing some other job. If it’s the former, fix it. If it’s the latter, concentrate on that job, where it matters.

Sigh again. I realize that no one’s forcing me to work these big tournaments, but I feel a marginal obligation because they need grownups to provide a connected communal norm and a measure of continuity. Plus it fills up my weekends. And to tell you the truth, I’ve been as nice as marshmallow fluff in dealing with the customers lately. But here we can dish. I know you, and I know that you understand what I’m talking about. Yeah, I’m preaching to the choir, but this allows me to go off and be nice when I’m supposed to be nice.

Can I get an amen?

__





No comments: