What it’s like to be a TCG Judge

There are plenty of incentives to become a TCG judge: power (over your friends), wealth (of rare judge promos), and respect (from your community).

I was just a kid when I first experienced the allure of the TCG judge. I was maybe 10 years old and had just made the transition from Pokémon card collector to Pokémon card player. On weekends my mom would take me to a little comic store in Orange County California where they hosted a Pokémon League (weekly local casual event). It was run by a judge, known as ‘Professor’ in the Pokémon TCG community, called Chrisbo and I was by far the youngest player in our little group, but he made sure I had a place in this crew that I’d end up spending the next 5 or so years with. In addition to our local league, he also ran pre-release events and would help judge bigger events like City, County, and State Regionals. I was in awe of the respect he so effortlessly commanded. I wanted to be like him.

Eventually I got “too cool” for Pokémon cards when I started high school and wouldn’t play again until after I had finished college and moved out to Arizona at the start of the pandemic in 2020. A few years later I’d end up working at a local card store as the resident Pokémon TCG expert, among other things. In the process of setting up a local weekly league, and a learn-to-play series for young trainers, I decided to get my Professor credentials to bolster my credibility in the community. Before testing I was dreaming of the wealth of glittering prizes that would come with being certified – not least the Professor store, where Professors could get unique merch, including clothing and dice, reflecting their Professor status. I was not thrilled to find out shortly after passing my exam that that program hadn’t been active for some time (though it has since been revived). I had to rethink my reasons for wanting to be a judge for this game if a wealth of promotional materials no longer awaited me.

Over the course of the next year, I continued to help run various local scenes and even served as head judge for a couple pre-release events, though I never made it to a Regional event. During this time I developed an identity as a judge in a way that I was strangely familiar with. See, I used to play the upright bass in classical orchestras. Orchestras I was in usually met once or twice a week and consisted of anywhere from 50 to 100 people – there’s no way to know everyone, but as a bassist, you stand while everyone else sits – everyone can see you, even if you can’t see them. So I developed a reputation as a known individual in these communities, and even after the orchestras had disbanded, sometimes for years, I’d get recognized by folks who I had never so much as said a word to. That’s what it was now like to be a TCG judge – I was a known pillar that got seen, even if I couldn’t make out all the faces in the crowd.

But a judge is not just a pillar overseeing a sea of faces. A judge is instrumental in setting the tone and tenor of their community, even if they aren’t organizing or running the events they’re at. A judge is there to be the final say on disputes about rules, and sometimes even behavior. Especially in TCGs not part of the big 3 (Pokémon, MTG, and Yu-Gi-Oh), store employees often don’t know the basic rules, let alone niche interactions in the rules, and you’re often called upon as a player to help adjudicate disputes. And unlike big events with floor judges and head judges, there is no appeal or enforcement mechanism; your reputation is all you have. If you give a ruling or talk to a player in a way that upsets them, regardless of the wrongness or rightness of the situation, you risk making a situation worse and damaging your standing in the community. As a product/project owner/manager we describe this dynamic as “soft power” or “authority without power” and it’s maybe the hardest and most important skill a judge can exercise. Soft power is the ability to influence outcomes by convincing someone that your desired outcome and course of action is the same as what they want; without threats or coercion. Effective use of this skill can make a judge an asset or detriment to their community. Once your decisions, attitude, or behavior are regularly called into question, there is no promise that you can repair your reputation, and you’re as likely to sow division as to mend it.

So – what’s it like to be a TCG judge? In a way, it is power, wealth, and respect, but only as much as you can handle. You’re a pillar of the community, but you have to walk among them too – without ego or arrogance. You have the ability to shape your community, but have to confront the lack of power you have to force your community to behave in certain ways. To be a judge is to be together with, yet separate from your community – sharing space with them, but not always able to participate on their level. For me, it’s the opportunity to build community and share space with individuals who love these games the way I love them. But it’s also the responsibility to be fair, patient, and open with everyone you share space with. For me, it’s the opportunity to be the person Chrisbo was to me when I was young.