In which, putting down the controller, we talk some numbers

I worked hard this weekend breaking in my new PlayStation 4. I’m sure you would have done likewise. The thing is, I do like games, although I far from consider myself a gamer. That is, I prefer when you don’t have to remember 113 bizarre combinations of buttons you can’t even find on the controller, and I wasn’t planning any time soon to have my noob ass royally kicked in some intergalactic MMO. The system I ordered came with Uncharted 4, which absolutely fits the bill as kind and gentle for lite users. Lots of jumping around, mostly. Aside from suffering a slight case of Uncanny Valley Syndrome, I’ve survived admirably. Finally I’ve got something entertaining I do better than golf. Except, of course, there are few things I don’t do better than golf. The best thing I ever did was go on my golf sabbatical lo those many years ago. Now if I could only get back all those hours hitting balls into the woods…

The skids were put on Rather Large Bronx yesterday, which, after fees were set, remains rather large. 189 LDers, and comparable numbers everywhere else. Now the Bronxwegians are in the final throes of hiring judges. The formula in the best practices in the toolkit is a ratio of 2.5 + 10% overage for LD and PF, 1.5 + 10% for policy. In a world of prefs, I have yet to have too many judges. I very much like when I can put out a pairing with mostly all 1-1s, with at worst just a couple of 2-2s. When you’re playing your judges close to your vest, that doesn’t happen. When you’ve got room to maneuver, it’s definitely doable.

Catholic Charlie will be my partner in LD crime in RLB tab, but I’m sure we’ll all be helping one another out, as all three debate tab teams will be in the conference room. This means plenty of people I can torture with my music, unless the Paginator grabs the reins and starts bombarding us with Iron Mike or Killer Mike or whoever his Mike du jour is, or Catholic C goes on a Genesis binge, although come to think of it, he is always on a Genesis binge. It also means instant access to a microwave, one of my favorite albeit only occasional tab perks. They also have comfy chairs, and Mr. Softee usually comes through on Sunday (through the neighborhood, not through the tab room) so one can acquire one's annual Brown Bonnet. No short walk to Starbucks, though. Oh, well. Can’t have everything. 

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