Prologue
Author’s Note: Positively Fifth Street by James McManus is a terrific book about the author’s wildly unexpected run of good fortune at the 2000 World Series of Poker. I lovingly appropriated the title, if not the success of Mr. McManus. This series is about an online game of“Diplomacy,” a strategic board game invented in 1954 by Allan B. Calhamer. I wrote the following nearly two years ago in real time as I was playing in one of the toughest online tournaments of Diplomacy, against some of the world’s best online players. Since then, my game has improved, but this story is told from my viewpoint as a relative newcomer to top-level Diplomacy. As difficult as it was to write, and honestly express myself, I hope you find it enjoyable, particularly if you are new to the game or if you are about to play on your first top board. Please be patient, as I suspect it will take 6-9 months to fully publish this tale.
Prologue
It’s May 2019. I’m weak. I’ll be exposed. I’m here because of luck, weak opponents, and a few NMRs.[1] Now I’m with the best, and they all talk so confidently on Discord.[2] Not only do I not have their game, I don’t have their chutzpah. I’m just a giant ball of fear and nerves, and when I get nervous, I become off-putting.
Jesus, I’m screwed.
Those inner doubts and hopes ran through my mind as I confronted my biggest fear: Exposing myself as a fraud of a Diplomacy player.
I tried to pull myself out of it. I would try and tell myself: No WAY you’re going to lose. Wait, that’s not right. I’m a badass. I soloed[3] twice during the qualifying rounds. I could have soloed three times. It wasn’t all luck, was it? What if I could do it again? Just one time. Maybe I could be the smart one; the one who could see two or three seasons ahead; and the one who could demonstrate stunning mind control on an adjacent power.[4] Hell, that could be me!
I try to pump my confidence up, but it’s useless. Yes, I could have soloed the first qualifying game. I didn’t, however, because I had a strategic partner who did the hard thinking, and I was too cowardly to pull the trigger and stab[5] him. The actual first game I soloed saw me run against opponents of little quality who prioritized fighting each other over stupid grievances over stopping me. The third game I soloed as Italy. I played to my best potential, but it only happened because I duped a newbie. I also played in a way that I am uncomfortable. I was a jackal, going from one short-sighted move to another, and keeping my opponents off balance because they were too concerned about their scores.
Alas, my heart and head knew the truth. I’m overmatched. For reals.
How do I win a major tournament when I have, at best, average tactical ability? Unless I spend a lot of time in Sandbox,[6] which itself feels like cheating, I know I miss a lot of moves. I just can’t see the board as well as the best players. My attention span is limited. I’m one of those people who continues to make typos no matter how much I proofread. Luckily, I have employees who read all my briefs before they get filed in court. I have no such luxury in this tournament.
How am I going to win this thing? What skillset do I actually have? I’m a real oddball. I’m closer to the Larry David character on Curb Your Enthusiasm than I care to admit. I get into verbal spats with random strangers, like the barber, or the dry cleaner’s son, or even a cyclist who walked his dog in the middle of the street. All of those things happened to me in the last four weeks. I’m either loved intensely by a small percentage of people who get me or I’m a bewildering prick.
Time for some goals …
Goal 1: Don’t be a prick.
Goal 2: Write with my style of humor. I’ll be me. I’m not Hemingway or anything, but if you get me, you tend to think I’m funny or crazy. Either will work. Alas, most people don’t get me. Females for one. Tight asses for another. But screw it, if I can thread the needle and get others to like me, they may view me as a reliable ally or at least someone who won’t shut down at the first sign of adversity. I’m going to keep my spirits up and show these guys that I can play.
Goal 3: Find a friend. Dear Jesus, I know I’m not your most dutiful servant, but if you could find it in your heart to have Backstabbr put me next to someone who would like me, then I can ride that friendship into a chance to win.
Goal 4: Don’t be England. I’ve soloed with every other country, but I can’t play England. I always screw something up, and I don’t get England’s victory path. I can’t see how Russia is supposed to be an enemy. I just don’t get it. It’s like math for some kids. I shut down when I draw England.
Goal 5: Get Lucky and Win. Anybody can get lucky, right? If I can’t win with skill, I can hope for some luck. When considering the promotion of his generals, Napoleon used to ask, “Yes, but is he lucky?” That’s my hope. And, I’m taller than Napoleon.
The power announcements come out: I drew England :(
Notes
[1] “No Moves Received” means a player failed to submit moves for a turn, and his units failed to move.
[2] “Discord” is an online server where people congregate online to discuss gaming, including Diplomacy. The most popular Diplomacy Discord Server is Nexus.
[3] To “solo” a game is to win it outright without drawing with other players.
[4] A “power” is a synonym for country. Diplomacy has seven powers: Austria-Hungary, England, France, Germany, Italy, Russia, and Turkey.
[5] To “stab” in Diplomacy means to betray an ally.
[6] “Sandbox” is a tool that allows a player to test out moves in advance of the actual ones ordered.
[7] A website where people play Diplomacy online, and the location of the online finals.