Am I A Second Fiddle For A Third Time?

Boston Massacre 2021 concluded June 26, 2021. The official standings claim I placed sixth, but I contend I was second, for a third time in a row. At least it gives me a plausible excuse to write a Second Fiddle article.

“I consider that it will be found much better by all Parties to leave the past to history, especially as I propose to write that history.”

—Winston S. Churchill

All right, Diplomacy fans, Boston Massacre 2021 has concluded. How did UT’s beloved alum do? No, I’m not referencing Karthik Konath, every Diplomacy player’s second favorite Longhorn. I am talking about me, @gohornsgo, GHG, the man, the myth, and the perpetual runner up at Diplomacy tournaments. Here were the official standings at the tournament’s end:

Is the official history accurate?  The tournament scored the top two rounds per player.  While I played three games, I did so over two rounds.  In the second round, I played two simultaneous games, scoring 38.78 as France and 30 as Germany.  In my third game, I was eliminated, scoring zero.  My official score was 39.7 (technically 38.7, but I’ll take the extra point). If the tournament scored my best two games, as opposed to my best two rounds, I scored 68.8, easily enough to secure a second-place finish.

That’s enough of an excuse for me to write my third Second Fiddle article.  In any event, who cares?  You love to read them, and The Briefing loves to publish them.  Schadenfreude makes copy. 

While I consumed many literal cigars during the tournament, I did not get to smoke the figurative cigar of victory.  How do I feel?  Well, I feel just like you think:  Hurt, frustrated, and angry.  (Having written those words down just now, I think I must have subconsciously been thinking of a 1996 legal opinion from the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, “Hurt feelings, anger, and frustration are part of life.”  I use that quote all the time when I try to get my clients out of paying for mental distress damages).  Now it’s a salve for the Diplomacy wounds I am licking a day later.

Eight months ago, my biggest problem was turning down allies.  Everyone wanted to be my ally.  I did not have to work at all to find a partner.  Think about that for a second.  How many of you have that problem?  I suspect very few of you.  You’re jealous, aren’t you?  But the problem is that I never could achieve superior results playing that way.  Sure, I was above average most of the time, but I was not playing to my full potential.

Now, only a trusting few will work with me.  It’s not because of my results.  It’s because of how I obtained those results. You see, my recent reputation for deception has supplanted my former reputation.  The elephant in all of my virtual diplomacy rooms is now named Mistrust.

I resolved this year to try and find a happy medium between Care Bear and Liar.  It seems simple:  Just tone back the lying.  In reality, however, it’s not as easy as you would think.  No one plays competitive Diplomacy well without deploying well-timed deceptions.  Deciding when and how to deceive is much more complicated.  So is grasping with the different levels of fraud.  Players mainly accept 1901 and 1902 disingenuousness as part of the game, but much like Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction, those same players summon mid- and late-game deceit with “great vengeance and furious anger.”  To me, a lie is a lie, no matter when it happens.  I view them all as part of the game.

To my immense surprise, I’m apparently an exceptional liar.  Who knew?  I always felt I was an awful liar, as did my parents and teachers.  As an adult, I pride myself on being honest and direct in my personal and professional dealings.  Despite what people think about lawyers, you must address hard and undeniable truths without making misrepresentations to be a great lawyer.  I will not lie on behalf of a client to anyone.  I don’t avoid or mispresent facts.  I address them head-on with a thought-out, and hopefully more persuasive argument.

Evan Swihart told me a couple of weeks ago that he was sure I wasn’t lying at one point because of my “passionate tone.”  Umble also made the same observation in one of our recent podcasts.   Evan advised that I simply dial down the passion.  Well, I’m passionate about everything.  I care about lots of things -- even irrelevant things.  Like Larry David, I can work myself into a frenzy over anything.  It’s in my DNA.

Do I have to change who I am as a person?  Changing someone’s DNA is how people die in science fiction movies.  But, in the spirit of good faith experimentation, I tried it over the weekend in a game.  As it so happened, I tried it with Evan, as we ran into each other again.  At a critical point during the game, I told him that I was speaking to him in my non-lying voice, so he had to trust me.  He still didn’t believe me!  So, even when I changed my DNA for Evan, it was pointless. Besides, if I change my tone in a way for you to easily detect know when I was lying and when I was telling the truth, the deception would be ineffective.  Changing my DNA isn’t going to work.  I would rather lose Diplomacy games than lose my authenticity.

Here’s what I am going to do:  Provide you space to trust me.  Google the Russian expression “doveryay, no proveryay,” my friends.  Ah, you won’t do it.  Here it is.  That’s the way I will build trust:  My actions.  If I don’t do what I say I will do, then don’t trust me.  If I do what I say I will do, then trust me.   Evaluate me turn-by-turn if you are so inclined.  Don’t write me or anyone else off writ large!  I have much love, as well as three-way split boards tops, to give.

So, with this new Trust but Verify game plan against Ed, you can finish first at the next tournament you enter while I can write a Second Fiddlearticle, whether I have to manufacture it or not.