This is the most delightful EOG statement I've ever had the pleasure of
reading, in all my years of dip! Thank you...
-mike

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, May 27, 2010 2:55 PM
Subject: DCI 274: Turkish EoG: MacBeth the Long Version
So, this is not the EoG I thought I'd be writing just a couple of game
years ago...
My EoGs tend to be long and full of analysis. Encyclopedic,
really, because I don't have an editor telling me, "Cut that. Nobody
wants to read it. Exercise a judicious abridgment" I'm sure this EoG
runs way too long, especially when I get into Joe and Jorge and me and
the spirit of the game.
So, pace yourself. Get up occasionally, stretch out, walk around.
Much like DCI 274 itself, my EoG is a bout of endurance, not a race of
speed.
THE GM
I have already stated that Mike was a model of timeliness and
consistency. It is worth applauding twice. I would gladly play in a
Sims-moderated game again.
Having said that... I don't expect Sims to GM next year's DCI. I
expect him to play in it as a formidable threat to win. As fun as it
must be to GM a game like this, I'm sure Mike would rather have been
playing in it. (Actually, I was hoping to volunteer myself to GM next
year before the opportunity opened up for me to win).
THE VARIANT
Last year's DCI was a two-round affair, so clearly the DCI can (and
maybe should) be run in a variety of formats. I find myself pondering
back upon Dan's proposal to play "It came from outer space". My gut
reaction says it's a curious, probably interesting variant, but is it
too un-dip-like for the DCI? After all, shouldn't the DCI reward
straight-up Dip? (Should it?) And then I realize I'm making arbitrary
distinctions as to what is appropriate or inappropriate for the DCI
format. I am okay with and even endorse map variants (like Crowded or
last year's Stonehenge), but I am wary of rules variants (like Payola,
Machiavelli, or "It came...".
So, I'm being arbitrary, and clearly that's the job of the DC
Moderators in arranging the DCI But I'm still curious what other
people think.
Having said all of that, I found Crowded to be a tantalizing
choice. As Mike noted early on, it sets the players straight to
negotiating, as one can make no progress except at the expense of
others. Except for a few countries (E, S, & T), everybody gets the joy
of feeling like they're playing an interior country. There was
immediate and dramatic conflict. Myself, I committed my first stab in
Spring 1901. I liked this dynamic
The other big plus of Crowded is that it's on a familiar map. So,
while it's a variant, it's at least a very familiar one.
The drawback of Crowded, of course, is that it's less balanced than
Standard dip. Some powers are more equal than others. True, we all had
the opportunity to set our country preferences, but it's hard to assess
a position before you've actually tried to play it.
It so happens that I actually did play Crowded before (DipWorld
Game 322 back in 2004). It was the 1898 variant, and I was Norway (and,
yes, I did trade ideas with Jorge early on about how to play Norway...
but Jorge was always an exceptional communicator, even amid this pool of
excellent communicators). The first few years pf DW 322 unfolded in
startlingly similar fashion to DCI 274. The Balkans were rapidly
vivisected. Lowlands opened directly into Kiel only to see Norway
spearhead a retaliatory charge, leading to a big-brother relationship
between Norway and Germany. Austria-Italy allied. France-Spain fell to
tatters. Eventually, though, that game took its own path. In that
game, AI remained allied and nearly swept the map. Norway didn't stab
Germany. Austria almost soloed.
At this point in my EoG, I *was* intending to make some assertions
about balance of power in Crowded. In particular, I was going to point
out how impossible the Balkans position is, especially as Turkey has
almost nowhere else to go except through the Balkans (and don't even get
me started on how each of them has two SCs adjacent to both Aegean and
Black Sea). Or how much better Italy looks with a divided Iberia and a
jammed eastern front. Or how England has its hands full with all those
sea powers. However, it turns out I am largely wrong in my conclusions
about the map. I have just surveyed other Crowded games at floc.net
with standard press settings. It turns out that, in fact, Balkans can
succeed (by attacking Turkey). Italy still struggles. And England does
pretty well on the whole.
I made a tally of good end-results by country (judged by my own
cursory glance at the end-map). Across 28 games (26 from floc.net plus
DW 322 plus DCI 274), this is what I came up with:
Germany - 9 (2 solos)
England, Turkey - 8 (1 Turk solo)
Norway - 7
Balkans, France, Russia - 5 (2 Russian solos)
Austria, Spain - 3
Italy, and Lowlands - 2
My favorite outcome was an ELN triple that swept the board. For the
record, my own pre-game preferences for DCI 274 were any of G, L, N, R,
and T. I'm glad I didn't get Lowlands
One trend grabs my attention: the southern and western powers (I,
F, L, and S) seem to fare far worse than the northern and eastern ones.
I'd be curious to know how other players felt about playing
Crowded.
But back to Dan's proposal to play "It came from outer space"... What
variants would *I* suggest for the DCI? I think I would try to pick
really balanced variants (but not Pure or Chromatic... blech!). 1900
has a very good reputation. Abstraction II is supposed to be good, too
(with different convoy rules, though). Anarchy should work very well
(since players pick their own home SCs). Renaissance might be
interesting, too. I guess I'd lean toward Anarchy (especially as the
number of players is flexible). On a different tack, I like the
scramble feel of Chaos, CivDip, 1898... so, I'd also suggest maybe a
game of 1897? (Though a one-center start for everybody might create too
much randomness in early survival?)
THE OTHER VARIANT
To my mind, the *real* variant being played in the DCI was the scoring
system: most centers = DCI Crown. This is not the usual DC system.
Usually, in DC, if you don't solo then you draw, and it matters little
whether you have 15 centers or 5 centers. But not so in the DCI. It
entirely changed the game and, I think, lent it a blood-thirsty cast. I
would not have stabbed Jorge had not the individual title been on the
line. Not even remotely. Joe might not have stabbed Jorge either, for
that matter.
As you may have guessed already, before I played at DC, I played at
the now-defunct DW. And DipWorld had a different scoring system than DC
uses. It was:
Player Score = # of Centers + Points for place
where 1st = 48; 2nd = 24; 3rd = 12; etc. [Note: Solo = 96, and everybody
else gets zero]. In DW, placement really mattered for the top-three
finishers. But survival in a draw was not much of a motivator for
fourth or fifth place runners up. In fact, the only end-game scenarios
were 'Solo' and DIAS (as there was no scoring distinction between
finishing in the drawing coalition versus outside it). I am not arguing
that one system is better than another. They just have different
incentives, and different incentives beget different styles of play.
THE PLAYERS
DCI 274 is probably the best game of Dip I've had the honor to play in
anywhere. The quality of the opposition was high, and that quality
showed in the high level of communication which unfurled... immediately
the game began. There was none of this sounding out personalities in
order to see who were the communicative ones, who had interesting ideas,
and who could be relied upon. It was obvious (and a wee bit
intimidating) that everybody was going to be communicative, clever, and
reliable (in a no-NMR way). If you pause to reflect on this for a
moment, it will strike you how uncommon it is for every player to be
attentive and insightful in a game. I remember it gave me a rush when I
first realized it. There would be no weak link / obvious target.
Conversely, I wasn't going to be able to advance myself by out-talking
my neighbors.
In fairness, Jorge was the communications exemplar, striking up a
conversation with me and maintaining it through all the roller-coaster
turns of the game. It was unusual to have running conversations with
all my immediate neighbors... plus Jorge. At points in the early- and
mid-game, I was sure that our conversation was not being used to my
advantage... but one expects that in Diplomacy.
The rest of this EoG is a rough chronological order of the game
organized by the player who dominated the Turkish game experience. Each
section focuses both on strategy and a personality (or two). Frank,
Garry, Matt, Max -- I'm sorry, but I hardly knew ya. I don't have
stories to share about you.
-- DREW
If I had it all to do over again, I would stab Drew again. Because he
wrote such funny press after the stab. "Sometimes I think about having
you executed just to see the expression on your face." (Season 2,
"Black Adder". Yup. I would.
But why stab Drew in the first place? On one hand, Nigel and I had
a good plan. We were going to re-enact a Juggernaut... just with more
players on the board than in Standard Dip. If anything, we hoped that
the existence of Balkans would make it harder to organize a resistance
(all the more testimony to Dan, Mikael, and Drew for actually doing it).
Nigel gained my early trust by keeping the plan simple; he effectively
conveyed his buy-in.
On the other hand, Drew's emails read a bit scattered and
occasionally incoherent. There were good ideas to be had, but I didn't
like sifting for them. Meanwhile, he had to coordinate a tricky ABT
alliance. Plus, although my preference was to head north in an ABT,
Drew's plans always tended to have me heading south toward Italy. Yes,
the ABT alliance had merits and could've worked, but too many teeth were
being pulled in the process.
And then I did something uncharacteristically Zen-like brilliant
for me: I let it be. Somehow, I knew the ABT wasn't going to work. It
couldn't. All I did was help the joints to creak a little more by
emphasizing a couple of difficulties with the alliance in my ABT press.
And that's when a beautiful thing happened. It all just fell apart.
Naturally, gracefully, of its own accord. The day of the first
deadline, Dan wrote me a "I am beginning to wish we weren't in this ABT
alliance" email. I replied with: "Funny you should mention it, because
I have a perfectly smashing ART stab entirely diagrammed through
W1901... It just happens to be laying on my desk".
Drew worked hard at making the ABT work in spite of the natural
antipathy between Balkans and Turkey. But, as I said, I'd stab him
again just to receive his comical emails. In fact, next time I play
Drew, I'm going to stab him all over again.
-- MIKAEL
Mikael was unavoidable unendurable destiny for me much of the game.
Alone of my neighbors, he didn't write much at the outset (this
changed). In the midgame, to Dan's glee, Mikael and I seemed locked in
an inextricable naval conflict, wherein I vs. T was the natural tension.
And later, when we finally found grounds for cooperation, we wound up
scuttling it over a miscommunication. Much has been written about Dan
and his sharpened dagger in this game... but the sad confession is that
his treachery would not have been possible but for Mikael's and my
willingness to allow Dan to play us off against each other.
I still look back at Winter 1901 and think I was screwed no matter
what I did (how often is Winter 1901 really all that crucial of a
season?!? But that's part of why this was a great game...). If I built
an army, then Nigel would've known I was coming after him... and with
the already-manifest ABI scrum, I knew that nobody was going to come aid
me in a battle with Nigel. So, I did the more 'neutral' thing and built
a fleet in Smyrna... which Mikael immediately and correctly recognized
as a warlike intent toward Italy. Even then, I had hopes that ABI would
be unable to unite in order to stop Nigel and I in our tracks (after
all, Mikael had just bludgeoned Dan, hadn't he?). But Mikael proved me
wrong on the board, just as I had dared him to do. And he didn't just
stop at ABI; he and Jorge combined to make it ABGIN.
If it hadn't been for Dan's mercurial nature, I would not have
survived Mikael's onslaught.
In total, I found Mikael to be a frustrating opponent -- which is
to say that he did his job vis-a-vis my Turkey. I would like to think
that he and I could make good allies if our countries weren't so
geographically at odds with each other.
-- DAN
Dan wins my vote for Personality of the Game Award, given to the player
who most indelibly leaves his imprint on the game. Surely, no single
player so influenced the flow of this game as did Dan. Jorge ran a good
second, though. All in all, I admire Dan's tenacity and immensely
enjoyed his role in the game. Thank you ever so much, Dan.
Jorge had warned me from Day 1 that Dan is cut-throat. A wee bit
of an understatement. Dan was perfidious. He stabbed. And betrayed.
And he tortured small, furry animals. I think I dubbed him the
Stab-O-Matic. And that appellation worked well for my interests, for in
truth, all of the talk about Dan's dagger-happy tendencies was only so
much propaganda. Oh, let me be clear: Dan was a villain. But that's
okay in Dip, so long as it works for you... which it did up to a point.
While there's been a lot of talk about Dan's stabs, I think we have
chosen to be silent on the bigger story... the story that shines some
redemption on Dan's actions. The storyline with Dan isn't that he
stabbed a lot. The storyline is that, in spite of stabbing so often,
Dan still persuaded some of the best players in DC to ally with him time
and time again. And this reveals incredible diplomatic skill. It also
shows an uncommon temperament that respects the fluidity of diplomatic
relations and does not treat any stab or alliance (by or against him) as
final. Most people hold a grudge after a stab, but Dan repeatedly was
right back on the phone dreaming up another cunning plan. As I noted
above: after a certain time, the fault is no longer Dan's for stabbing
us; it is ours for giving him so many opportunities to stab.
But, obviously, in the end, Dan's treachery backfired on him. But
was this because of the number of his stabs? Or the *quality* of his
stabs?. I think some of his stabs were not good stabs or were not
pressed relentlessly until the victim lay gasping near-lifeless in his
last SC. An example. Dan tried to eliminate Drew in Fall 1902 but made
two crucial errors. First, he didn't forewarn his other, more important
ally Mikael (and the stab attempt dealt collateral positional damage to
Mikael, so it risked scuttling the alliance). Second, he attempted the
stab via a tactically risky (nay, foolish) support from Budapest which
not only was likely to be cut, but actually got dislodged.
And then he patched it all up again with Drew and Mikael! I was
floored and flabbergasted. And awed.
But Dan's chief mistake (in my humblest of omniscient opinions) was
his first real stab of Mikael in Spring 1904(?). That was an alliance
that (from my throne in Turkey) seemed a force to be reckoned with. It
was the alliance that had a good chance to lay the golden egg.
Ultimately, as an aside, it was this stab that allowed me to survive in
the corner and to build the third fleet with which to establish my
Turkish Stonewall. It is with perfect 20-20 hindsight that I say Dan
should have stayed in the AI alliance until my corner position had been
shattered. Perfect hindsight... but I think it was my insight at the
time, too.
In the end, Dan left too many of his victims still standing. And
somewhere around 1906/1907, I think he was heard reciting more
Shakespeare: "Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer
by this Duke of Austria; and all the clouds that lowered upon our house
in the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with
victorious wreaths." Little did he realize how much the world scorns
hump-backed villains.
-- NIGEL
I don't have a lot of stories to tell about Nigel. Fidelity is not
often the stuff of great Dip stories. But, with all due obsequiousness
to other players... Nigel is the guy from this game I would most likely
ally with again. As I mentioned earlier, his straight-forward,
uncomplicated style worked very well by me.
For the most part, thanks to the ABGIN, Nigel and I were allies
both in a bind, unable to directly aid each other. By 1906, I had
established the Turkish Stonewall: F EMed, F Aegean, F Constantinople.
It was every Turkish turtle's dream, utterly unassailable except via
Armenia. And I relied on Nigel to defend that to his death (which was
impending). I could exaggerate and say I was using him as a human
shield... it's certainly more colorful... but, there was really nothing
more I could have done for him. My thought was that I could hold this
position until the cavalry arrived from the West, which ought to come
before Nigel's last stand, God rest his soul.
An ordinary player would made a last stand in Sevastapol and died
like a loyal soldier. But Nigel surprised me and caused me sleepless
nights. He dealt and double-dealt with his AI oppressors, thus
extricating a rebirth from a mere one center. It was an extraordinary
feat. But it came at the cost of letting enemies into Armenia. My
nightmare of poison-fanged Austrian hump-backed villains was coming
true. Surely, my end had arrived.
But then, in 1907, the cavalry arrived. Dan was given a beat-down.
And the Austrian orcs in Armenia disbanded. And then began the Glory
Years. The acme of Russo-Turkish relations.
In spite of some friction around 1909, Nigel and I functioned as
one nation, each tending to the other's resurrection and focusing on our
mutual goal: a DIAS ASAP. When Joe stabbed Jorge, we expanded to become
an NRT trio. And all was well. Jorge has already told the story of how
he and I chose to spurn Austrian alliance (and Russian elimination) in
1910, so I won't dwell on it. But I was pleased with the maneuver.
Very pleased. It was reflective of something I later told Joe: I could
stab Nigel, but then'd I'd have to start looking over my shoulder for
angels with flaming swords; for I was sure such despicable treachery
against my most loyal ally -- an ally with whom I had developed an
unusual and special tight-knit bond -- would not go unpunished by
Heaven.
And yet all good things do pass. Alas, Nigel's interest in the
game eventually dissipated. He had formerly been an active participant
in our NRT round tables, but he lapsed into just chiming in on Friday
mornings about six or so hours before the deadline. Still, in the end,
he owned a share of the draw.
-- JORGE
I have already written of Jorge's superb communication. There is no
greater virtue in Diplomacy than frequent, well-written press, and Jorge
seemed determined to out-press everybody. It worked on me, and I was
content to see him do well for so much of the game.
As I mentioned, Jorge and I talked early about how to play Norway.
My previous experience said that Norway was a great defensive position
which rightly had to prioritize naval supremacy and try to reach
Gibraltar. Toward that end, I thought England and Lowlands had to be
his primary targets, followed by France and Spain. Germany had to be
kept fleet-light. And Russia should make for a strategic ally (this
last opinion also coincided with my Turkish alliance with Russia).
Jorge took my advice and then made up his own mind. Still, by Spring
1905, he had far exceeded the objectives I had discussed. He had fleets
in NAt and Iri plus a weaker German ally who could absorb Austrian
aggression for awhile. Which is why it didn't see his betrayal of Max
coming. I thought it a mistake at the time, but I really cannot
second-guess him when his bigger problem was an EF alliance that he
needed to split however he could.
So, to return to my semi-narrative here... Nigel and I rebounded
from Dan's yoke -- all thanks to the success of the FN(+IRT) alliance
against Dan. But there can be too much of a good thing. Joe and Jorge
made great gains with help from both Nigel and me. But they were also
both exerting carbon-to-diamond pressure directly on us. There was talk
at the time of what form the draw would take. I was insisting upon a
share of the draw (reckoning that, being in the far corner, they
couldn't easily eliminate me without risking a solo by one or the other;
plus, 35 centers cannot be evenly divided between two players). Joe and
Jorge were sticking with a 2-way.
In particular, I remember a specific exchange with Jorge. In 1909,
Nigel had convoyed an army to Ankara (whereas I had expected a fleet).
And while it didn't make sense for him to stab me, I was quite skittish
all the same. I wrote to Jorge and asked for an unenforceable promise:
if Nigel screws me over, please take Sevastopol from him. Since I
wasn't really expecting a stab from Nigel, and since the request
couldn't be enforced anyway, I didn't put much stock in it. But Jorge's
response was uncharacteristically cold and aloof: "The problem is that
you are on record as being against that draw I'm seeking. At this point
Nigs is my muscle on you to vote Yes." It chilled me. Maybe I should
be afraid of Nigel! Not because Nigel would stab me, but because Jorge
would force him into it! I cannot exactly say why this one brief email
had such an effect on me, but it did. It clearly reminded me the
bottom-line Diplomacy truth: in spite of a lovely
running correspondence, no neighbor is wholly my friend. We are
competitors each seeking individual glory.
I'm going to park Jorge by the curb for a minute and write more
about him later. But first...
-- JOE
Joe entered my life in 1908. He rode a white stallion and drove my
Italian and Austrian nemeses before him like chaff before the wind.
Orphan children strewed rose petals before his feet and gratefully sang
his name with hosannas.
The agreement by Joe and Jorge to unite against Austria provided
desperately needed short-term relief. I started to envision a 4-way
FNRT draw (or any draw that included me!). But, conquerors are
conquerors, and in spite of a Fall 1908 agreement for Joe to take Greece
(with my support) and then hand it over to me, Joe found reasons to
reconsider the agreement before the end of 1909. This was about the
time when Jorge rebuffed my request for a safeguard against Nigel, and I
wasn't so much loving either of my FN liberators.
However, in the meanwhile, Joe and I had started a running
conversation about the game-end scenarios. It had begun in the lead-up
to Spring 1908, as I was laying clear my Turkish goals, and I mentioned
to Joe: "Provided you mind your border with Jorge properly, I think you
are in the stronger position in FN. Much stronger." I don't think Joe
had seriously entertained the thought of himself as having the upper
hand until that point.
I don't know what impact the Spring 1908 adjudication had on Joe's
thoughts, but it seemed significant to me at the time. On that
adjudication -- before Joe and I had much of a chance to follow up on my
comment -- Joe opened himself up terribly vulnerably to Jorge while
Jorge simultaneously moved two armies adjacent to Munich. Belgium and
Munich were indefensible if Jorge hearkened to the Dagger's Call. With
his seizure of Warsaw from Dan, he'd have a 13-8 lead in SCs versus Joe.
I was 105% certain that Jorge would strike. I said as much to Joe. The
irony, of course, is that Jorge was a true ally. Yet, after this
incident, I wonder if Joe wasn't more struck by his brief peril than by
his ally's good graces.
It didn't hurt that Joe and I started to discuss that most
compelling of things: the scoring system and cost-benefit analysis. If
Jorge had gone for the stab, his best case scenario was a solo. The DCI
Crown via a solo -- that would be something to tell his grandchildren
about! If not, had Jorge's solo bid fallen short thanks to an unwieldy
AFIRT alliance (in which IT would have been of no help), then Jorge
still stood a very good chance of claiming the DCI Crown with 15 or 16
centers. If AFIRT managed to hurl him backward (which was certainly
possible, though 5-way alliances are not so easy to hold together), the
odds remained exceedingly good that Jorge would retain a part in a
game-ending 3-way draw. And that's the reality of the scoring system:
there is often not a huge risk associated with taking a big gamble, but
there are great rewards. Obviously, Jorge analyzed the board and
decided the solo bid was not a gamble he wished to attempt.
But later, Joe would face much the same gamble. The scoring system,
the cost-benefit analysis, and his irritation with Jorge all helped him
choose the road Jorge had not taken.
In Fall 1909, Joe seized Greece in spite of me. He stabbed Mikael
for both Rome and Venice. And Nigel convoyed an army to Ankara when I
was expecting his fleet. I thought, "This is it. Joe is finally going
for the solo -- he'll fortify his line against Jorge and out-race him to
18 centers by gobbling up Balkan and Turkish dots." Joe blandly told me
that I knew his reason for depriving me of Greece, but I brushed it off
as a thin veil for his underlying motive, and I told him so in a letter
that we both referenced several times later in the game:
"> You know the reason of course.
I do, but it's not the one you name. The real reason is: you are
embracing the path eschewed by Jorge. Guts, glory, and a solo bid. You
have deftly wielded the Dagger Known As Dan to thwart your foes and to
quickly sweep up a couple of builds. The Russian convoy is a nice
touch, too. Of course, Dan won't long remain reliable, but you don't
expect him to. You may just have enough to push onward to victory.
Excelsior!
Good luck to you on your bid. Personally, I was disappointed in
Jorge for not taking the gamble. What you are doing is more in the
Spirit of the Game."
Poetic, eh? Patriotic. Gets the blood coursing through the arteries.
I'd come a long way rhetorically from the utterly frustrated letter I
wrote to Mikael back in October:
"I see Naples
I see France
I see Mikael's
Underpants."
Yes, my emails had come a long way. Whereas Mikael never replied to my
poem, Joe really heard my Siren's Song.
But I don't want to claim credit for Joe's courage. If I have
dwelled upon his motives, it's because I tend to overanalyze things, not
because I feel I authored his decision. I did, it seems, help screw his
courage to the sticking place (which puts me into yet another
Shakespeare play...). But the ambition was Joe's. He made up his own
mind, and he wore his boldness rightly as his own. And eventually, by
the time Birnam Wood marched on high Dunsinane, he faced his fate with
all the ferocity of a real MacBeth. He ultimately failed, but I
confess... I was proud of him. He honored the Spirit of the Game.
[And, I'll note, he lost nothing score-wise for his venture... he still
finished with a share of the draw].
-- JOE & JORGE
I am not going to comment on The Feud beyond the following three points.
(1) I happily did not suffer friction from either Joe nor Jorge that
would at all suggest that either was capable of the nastiness that
erupted. (2) It was Joe who breached protocol by publicly flaming
Jorge. This happens occasionally in Diplomacy (I blushingly remember
the last time I did it some years ago as a powerless Italian...). Joe
eventually apologized, which is all I could ask, but it was quite a
flaming. (3) Genies do not return to their bottles; it was The Feud and
its lingering resentments (and Joe's willingness to cede centers to my
fleets) that made my Crown even remotely possible. We all know that,
had calmer heads prevailed, I would never have had even a glimmer of
hope.
But at the outset, there was no Feud. There was just a stab. And
a solo bid. And a really nasty piece of work that Jorge and I
perpetrated against Dan (by which I reckoned that all of my scores with
the Stab-O-Matic had now been repaid).
And then followed the second Golden Era. Not only did Jorge now
*need* Nigel and me, but we all needed each other if we were to prevent
a French solo. That we would form a 3-way alliance was predictable.
But the alliance that we did form was... extraordinary. I cannot say I
have ever enjoyed a more tightly knit alliance. It was a thing of
beauty and perhaps of grace. Not only were all moves an open book, but
all moves benefited from three brains instead of one. This may sound
cliche, but I think it was crucial. It was the union of our minds
rather than our collection of units that stopped Joe. For several
years, all three of us enthusiastically joined in the drawing and
refining of battle plans. And particularly in 1914, we just plain
out-thought the French, because we had three times the available time to
consider all the alternatives.
I must here sheepishly admit that this alliance would have been
impossible without the tone of Jorge's leadership. Yes, Jorge was in
some sense ultimately looking out for his own welfare (after all, his
goal was to recapture the elusive DCI Crown). But I do believe that we
reached beyond mere self-interest and achieved a team concept, wherein
ownership of centers was not jealously guarded, and one nation's
positioning was routinely subverted to the position of the team. And
again, it was usually Jorge who sacrificed.
It took me a very long time in this game to understand Jorge to the
extent that I now do. But I do believe that he is of a different
character than Joe... or myself. It's hard to quantify. I want to say
that he's an Alliance Player... but he did do treacherous things to
Frank, Nigel, and especially Max. Still, when I look at all the pieces:
extensive communication, team-oriented alliance, choosing an FN draw
over a solo bid, not wanting to push the NRT toward a solo... Jorge
played the game differently. At least in my experience of him. He
played for himself and his own success as we all do, but at the same
time, he didn't. And therein is an irony. Because his style brought
him success but arguably deprived him of the Crown, as he instead
over-trusted two players who are of a different character.
The NRT survived three setbacks, as Jorge noted in his EGS. The
first was intentional, the other two not. First, in Autumn 1912, I
disbanded my fleet in Naples. And, yes, I did this intentionally to
breathe life back into Joe. A distant corner of my mind was, believe it
or not, already thinking of how to 'get back into the game', in spite of
having only five centers. I kept quiet on that. But much more than my
re-emergence, as incredulous as this will sound to Jorge, I really was
worried about Jorge. At the time, Nigel and I were having discussions
of "So, once we stop Joe, how are we going to stop Jorge? Or will it be
out of the frying pan and into the fire?" The fact that I worried about
Jorge showed that I did not understand either him nor Joe yet. On one
hand, I seriously believed that Joe might disband northern units
(opposing Jorge) instead of southern units (opposing me). I did not
know the depth of their underlying
antipathy (which only surfaced publicly that very season). On the
other hand, I didn't realize that Jorge really would stop once he had
reached supply center parity with Joe. I thought it very realistic that
Jorge might continue to steam along in the north and continue for a solo
bid. Unless I gave Joe a cushion in the south. So, I disbanded my
fleet in Naples, and I made my allies very cross. And I extended the
game.
The other two setbacks were both accidents. Nigel's NMR was a
brutal, awfully timed debacle, and it resurrected chances for Joe's two
eastern units. The same season, I misordered a fleet (honestly, I
thought it was in Aegean...), leaving Ionian unfortunately empty (a much
smaller debacle). But again... such were the turns of fortune that both
helped extend the game long enough for me to get back into it.
-- ADAM (or "How I Came to Steal a Victory"
This was the best game of Diplomacy I've ever had the honor to play in.
All but the last two years. No, I'm not being self-disparaging. After
1914, the game had played out. Joe's solo bid was finis, barring a
Norwegian NMR. He lost his relish for the game. Nigel detached. Jorge
sought only to restore his advantage in SCs so that he could have the
Crown. People were ready for the game to end. And I walked to victory
partly on the eggshells of apathy. But first, Joe had one favor to
repay...
I wrote to Joe after F1914 saying that I had totally screwed up my
chances of winning. I had made the mistake of submitting the best
moves. Tactically, they were the very best. But strategically... I
should really have submitted orders that would extend the game and lead
to me having to convoy units into Trieste and Venice. Now, I would be
unable to catch up to Jorge.
It must have been a strange friendship for Joe. Here, I had urged,
coaxed, wheedled, and cajoled him until he reached out to seize victory.
Yet, all the time he was crusading, I clearly maintained that I was his
foe. I was a friend who was really an enemy. An enemy who cheered him
on as a friend. Oooh, such a frenemy was I...
Intermittently along the way, Joe had been offering me deals. Stab
Nigel. Let's form a two-way against Jorge. But what balance could
there really be when he outnumbered me by six centers? In 1915, Joe
started offering me a solo (even though he still outnumbered me by
four). I frankly didn't believe him, because again, I didn't understand
the psychology at play (and I didn't have the armies to procure the
Balkans). For Joe to help me to solo, he'd have to send armies into
Tyrolia and Vienna. Then, he'd both outnumber me and control the center
of the map. It seemed yet another effort to split the NRT and revive
his solo bid. I thought Joe was still playing to win. But it appears
he was just playing to avenge himself on Jorge.
Conversely, I worried that if I shattered the crystal luminance
that was NRT, Jorge would give Joe the solo rather than allow my
treachery to succeed. Jorge had been pretty disapproving when I
disbanded F Naples -- it had almost scuttled our alliance. And often,
traitors are more hated than enemies. An ill-aimed stab might, I
wrongly thought, make Jorge like me even less than Joe. So, I turned
Joe's offer down.
And it's here that Joe repaid my favor. He hounded me. Guts and
Glory! Solo! It was his turn to play Lady MacBeth whilst I played a
balking MacBeth. We generated a stack of email, all while Jorge and
Nigel were turning the lights out in the storefront. He begged and
pleaded. He delivered an ultimatum. He publicly announced his intent
to vote for a draw. He did everything I had done to/for him in
encouraging him to stab Jorge in the first place. It was a favor
dutifully repaid.
Still, many things had to happen in that last year-plus to make a
winner out of me. Probably the key thing was: Nigel and Jorge couldn't
suspect me. Which they should have. Not because I behaved
suspiciously, but simply because my SC count was catching up, and
Diplomacy players should know to exercise caution. There were really
only two things that could stop Jorge from winning: (1) Joe's obstinacy
and (2) a Turkish grab for power. Well, Joe finally and sincerely
announced his surrender in late 1915. So, the only threat left was me.
And I am pretty sure that the circa 1912 versions of Jorge and Nigel
would never have let me sneak into a victory. But by 1915... it was
time to pack up the suitcases.
In Fall 1915, I openly took Serbia while Nigel chose not to take
Bulgaria in exchange. That was the first last step. (It also showed
how oblivious Nigel was about my emerging Caesar-like ambition). It
gave me a second build and an army in the Balkans. In Winter 1915,
Jorge suggested I build two armies. I didn't have to be told twice!
(But had he and Nigel insisted upon a fleet... there probably would have
been no stab). In Spring 1916, Joe was muttering into my ear: "Come on
kid! You can do it! Give'em a jab with your left and a hook with your
right! You're the champ, kid! You're the champ! I'm behind you all
the way!" I essentially told Joe that I might stab, but he'd have to
hand over the keys to the French army. He did. That was essential for
my success. (And later, he didn't complain when my orders for him cost
him two disbands and the loss of Holland). Then Nigel announced his
intention to symbolically re-occupy St. Petersburg
and Sevastopol. I was probably going to stab anyway, but that was the
last domino. [Again, if Nigel or Jorge had stopped to analyze the
threat from Turkey, they might have insisted on the very
un-alliance-like move of F Bla-Con/Bul... probably without informing
which destination Nigel would choose... and since we all expected the
draw to pass that season, it shouldn't matter. But that could've maybe
been enough to stop me from stabbing, too].
PATIENCE
In the late-game and post-game, I have read some praise for Patience.
Yes, it is a virtue that worked admirably to my advantage all throughout
the game. It worked way back in Spring 1901 when I waited for Drew's
ABT alliance to fall apart. In mid-game, it enabled me to construct the
Turkish Stonewall. And in the end, it enabled me to revive from 3
stinkin' centers to claim an undeserved Crown. Yes, Patience is a
very... how do I say this?... overrated virtue. It works very well for
Turkey. It brought me a win in this game, so I'm certainly not going to
snarl and spit at it. But I'd rather play Austria. I'd rather author
my own success. For, as we all know, this game belonged to Dan, Jorge,
and Joe. If anyone 'deserved' to win, it was one of them. I was but
the beneficiary of their struggles.
PSYCHOLOGY / PHILOSOPHY / CLOSING THOUGHTS
"It's what Jeeves would call the psychology of the individual." - P.G.
Wodehouse
Why did I coach Joe forward to stab Jorge? Why did I stab Jorge? Why
*didn't* Jorge stab? I cannot wholly say.
I think my counsel to Joe went far beyond my own desire to survive
(which surely was aided by his stab). I had a deeper motive of which I
was not fully aware. Something psychological. Something which was
certainly linked to the opposing psychology that led Jorge to pass on a
solo bid. It's what I referred to in my email to Joe as The Spirit of
the Game (which sounds horrendously pompous, but it's the name I used,
so we're stuck with it).
Almost by definition, The Spirit of the Game is my a personal
interpretation. Each player approaches the game with his own sense of
The Spirit.
My sense of The Spirit is related to the famous Herm Edwards quote:
"You play to win the game". There are many other motivators (like a
great alliance or sportsmanship), but winning is the first goal. In a
game like the DCI or a tournament, where a title is on the line, I prize
winning even more highly.
Also, given the draw-based scoring system, where the rewards for
valor often outweigh the risk, fortune favors the bold. [I reiterate
here: in the end, Joe didn't lose much on his score by trying for the
solo; he still figured in the draw].
When I saw Joe acquiescing to a 2-way FN draw sans the DCI Crown, I
confess it didn't feel right. Jorge was playing a dangerous game to
keep SC parity so tight but to reserve the Crown for his own. The Crown
is lying there! Duncan sleeps in thy castle this night! Reach out and
seize it! Thou shall'st be more than man! My maternal instinct (my
Lady MacBeth maternal instinct) stirred:
"Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would'"?
Joe dared. And let me say: he got really close. Just because he fell
short does not mean he shouldn't have tried.
But what of Jorge? He did not stab Joe in a similar position. Did
he violate The Spirit of the Game? Ultimately, upon great reflection, I
would say that he did not. He chose a different, more subtle path
toward victory. It was a calculation that didn't pan out. Neither Joe
nor I cooperated far enough to allow him his hard-earned victory. But
like Joe, Jorge came really close to winning. His calculation fell
short, but it was worth the try.
And yet... during the game and even now, I did feel that Jorge
chose not to _seize_ victory. He tried to corral it and nurture it
rather than act brashly. As you can tell: I thought brash action was
called for. Nigel can confirm that, around 1912, facing the prospects
of a Jorge Crown vs. a Joe Crown, my preference was: (a) whichever one
gets us a draw; followed by (b) Joe, because he opted for Guts and
Glory.
In the recently ended DC 285 (Ancient Med), I settled for a 2-way
Egyptian-Persian draw with Mike Hoffman. I thought I had a slight
inside track for the solo (so did he). But we settled on a draw,
because the odds were close, and because we had a really good alliance
we didn't want to shatter. The alliance was more valuable than the win.
If the DCI were just another club game, I wouldn't have stabbed at
the end. I would barely have even considered it. I had a really good
alliance that I didn't enjoy shattering. A superb alliance. The type
where a stab isn't just a betrayal of my allies... it's almost a
betrayal of sportsmanship. Plus, I felt like a scum bag for stabbing at
a time when everybody else was just ready to be done with the game. If
Joe hadn't been Lady MacBeth-ing me, I doubt I would've gone through
with it.
Additionally, I kept coming back to: "You play to win the game."
That was my goal at the beginning of the game. It should still be my
goal fifteen game years into it. If other people are tiring of the
game, that shouldn't change my goal. If my allies are expecting me to
restore Jorge to the lead, that shouldn't change my goal.
I have never done that before. Exploited my opponents' waning
enthusiasm for a victory. It was more a case of outlasting than of
out-thinking. In the aftermath, it doesn't feel as radiant by half as
allying and conniving my way to power. But it's a type of virtue...
Patience.
Which is not the final word you'd expect from an EoG that has so many
words about...
Your DCI Winner,
MacBeth