My son has a goal of going to the Pokemon World Championships. As parents we’re excited to see him motivated about something, and so we’re doing what we can to support him in this. For me that means, among other things, serving as a sparring partner. And that means I need to develop my own playing ability to, if not World Championship levels, at least a level where I can provide a challenge to someone at that level.
I know what you’re thinking. “Yeah, not much of a sacrifice there, Thom.” And you’re probably right. I do enjoy playing games. And I find I do enjoy them even more when I actually can provide a challenge. To do that I’ve had to humble myself a little and listen to better players on how to improve my game. This means listening to my son. He’s had to teach me how to play at his level.
But to be a good sparring partner I need to learn to think in ways he may not have considered. I need to try different things to help him improve his own decks and game. So with that end in mind I entered a tournament this week at our local league. Some exposure to other players and their decks could only be a good thing.
I haven’t entered a tournament for a card game in at least twenty years since I tried a local tournament for another game and had bad experience with a jerk of an opponent. I decided then that I really didn’t need that sort of rubbish in my life and I was just fine confining myself to family and friends.
But Pokemon seems different. Yes, there are a few bad apples, but most of the players–of all ages–I’ve met are good sports, and pleasant people. And I’m a little older now, and perhaps a little wiser, and maybe even a little more thick-skinned. And it’s for my son. The things we do for the good of the children.
I’d like to say I wasn’t nervous. And at first I wasn’t. My first match was against the former league organizer who was a judge at the recent World Championship. He’s got a reputation as a good player. I didn’t think much of my chances, so there wasn’t anything to be nervous about. And sure enough, not only did he have a better deck and more experience, but my deck fell flat. There was nothing to do but laugh. Every single card I needed seemed to be hiding from me. He swept me in short order.
My next game was with someone from my son’s age group. And at first it looked like a similar story. I couldn’t get the cards I needed. Fortunately neither could he. He made some interesting choices that left me alive long enough for my deck to start cooperating.
And that is when I started getting nervous. Nothing makes me nervous, I guess, as much as actually having a chance of winning. Things started going my way, then avalanching my way, and suddenly I won my first game. And I was a mess. My hands were shaking.
Then for my last game I was paired with a gentleman in my age group. As we were getting set up he asked me if I was a PokeDad. I admitted I was. I’m not sure what that meant in his book, but it almost seemed like a condescending question. But I wasn’t concerned until I saw his cards start to come out. He was playing a deck much like the one that won the World Championship. I knew what that meant: I had better get a good, fast start or I’d be toast.
I didn’t get a good start. But neither did he. As a result I was just ready enough by the time he got his offense set up. And again I started getting nervous. I had a small lead at that point, then expanded it quickly with one of my heavy-hitters before he brought out his own heavy-hitter. I fed him a few sacrifices to try and soften him up while I tried to get my next counter-stroke set up, and I somehow made some very good choices.
Then, in a final gambit I took a chance that relied mainly on luck. Not fantastic luck, mind you, just average luck. But average luck tends to elude me at the worst times. The game came down to two coin flips (my pokemon had an attack where you flipped two coins and did 20 damage for each heads). I needed one of those two to be heads to win. By law of averages I should be able to do that, but I’ve had games where I’ve had some terribly long runs of tails. My first flip was tails. My second flip was…heads.
I finished 2-1 for my debut event, and earned fifth place (out of seven) in my group. I suspect I ranked lower because one of my opponents was from the lower group and therefore was someone I should have been able to beat (they clearly haven’t met my son). But that doesn’t matter that much. The win for me was that, in spite of nerves, I was able to keep my head and play solid games. I made mistakes, but not many. I even made some semi-inspired moves.
I went in expecting to go 0-3, frankly. And there were people there that, had I been paired with them, I would have. My son, for one (he got first place in his group). But I went in hoping to gain experience and see what other players are doing. I came away feeling like, by golly, I really have improved. And, yes, I had fun.
I’ve just got to do something about the nerves.
Quaaludes.