Another one bites the dust. Another District tournament, that is.
I’m pretty sure I’ve gone through all this before. Districts is a tournament that requires enormous attention to detail, in that there are enough NFL rules and regulations to choke the proverbial horse. Even having the Wunn and Only around didn’t mean we always knew what to do when. Old Scott was poring over the little red manual just as much as the rest of us. He was helpful at times though, when we had to throw out a fairly standard question, or certify the results, or just get through the thing. He even judged a round or two (so did I, for that matter—where was Fists when we needed him?), so it was nice having him around. And he came with a plan to help us rise from our Red Light District status. We’ll have to see if it works; it depends on a lot of factors all coming together just right. We’ll see, but I’m sanguine about it. It looks good.
Of course, the worst thing about Districts is all the paperwork. You start filling stuff out the Monday before and continue for the next 40 days and 40 nights. Quelle dragerooni, as the Frenchies say. But yesterday I popped over to the local post office with boxes and envelopes a’plenty, and shipped everything off to Rippin’ Ripon. Mostly my work here is done, except for a small event up at Monticello to certify one of their policy teams. They were the only policy school entered; with 4 teams, they can qual one, but first all the teams need to debate one round, followed by coach’s decisions. And three neutral judges. We can do that pretty efficiently, and I’m on the case.
Last night I introduced the Sailors to a new name called [insert clever name of game here, because I couldn’t come up with one]. It’s a simple take on trivia, a move toward a more involving approach than Debate Jeopardy. Everyone answers questions in 6 categories, but they can screw people and earn immunities. I’ll simplify it a bit next time, but one thing I’ll say about Sailors, past and present, is that they like a good trivia game. So do I. Next week we’ll get back to (men)ickstitute, but it was nice to have a night off to sort of tie off the season. After all, I have no more tournaments to go to. Noah is shepherding Robbie to Houston, and Mrs. 1-F is handing the States chores, which leaves me washing off the old golf clubs and heading out for another season of inane summer masochism.
Speaking of masochism, this is the time of year when everyone starts hitting on poor old TOC. The Legion believes that if it gets enough judges into the pool, it will stem the sinking tide of debate as we know it, which is marginally true at best. When you do the math, you realize that the size of the TOC judging pool is only slightly smaller than the population of Moose Butt, Montana. A judge is lucky to get 2 rounds in, given the 1 to 1 ratio across a pool of 70 debaters. Some folks like to think the tabbers are sitting there manipulating things, but I highly doubt it. They’ve got 70 or so of the best judges in the country according to any standard, and no real reason to futz around with assignments. What do they care if it’s a Digressive college student or a Legionnaire? They don’t even tend to have horses of their own in the race. No, the real problem is with the TOC itself, an institution which, as I have said, I would not invent if it didn’t exist. Its worst sin is its effect on LD as a cynosure for all the $ircuit practices we hold near and dear, but one cannot overlook its inherent greed. I mean, it costs an arm and a leg, even if you don’t go: there’s always dozens of at-large bids whose fees cover, let me see, the free services of the LD Advisory committee and, oh, yeah, about $30 of mailing fees. And if you get an at-large, is that fee applied to your registration? Chuckle, chuckle. Fortunately, the TOC is run for the benefit of the high school debate community as a whole (absent its cynosure role mentioned above), giving back scholarships and grants— No, wait. That’s not them. They are, in fact, simply one of the colleges we high school people like to outsource our tournaments to. Whatever money they take in, after expenses, goes to their college team. And we treat this event much as the Pope treats Easter.
Personally, I blame everything wrong with TOC on George Bush. Works for everything else, doesn’t it?
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