The Convention Game Gamble

 “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

— T. S. Eliot

Middle-earth 54mm miniatures game, with
player aid card and "burning" buildings.

I like running convention games; I’ve been hosting them for more than 30 years. These days they present one of the few opportunities I have to play games with a broader audience. Yet they usually require a great deal of investment...and risk. I’m preparing to run two events at an upcoming convention (Call to Arms in Williamsburg, VA) and I’m feeling the exhilarating excitement and anxious dread I typically experience beforehand. I love running these games, sharing my enthusiasm for a period, genre, and game system, often introducing newcomers to my particular corner of the hobby, and seeing where the combination of a given scenario and a diverse assemblage of players takes a game. But it also comes with a great deal of anxiety. Will I get many or any players? What kind of players will join? Will the game make a generally positive impression with attendees? These come on top of typical convention concerns like logistics regarding table size, hotel arrangements, scheduling accuracy, promotion (or lack thereof), and navigating an often overpacked gaming floor. It all emphasizes the gamble we take hosting games at conventions...often at our own expense.

Everyone puts a great deal of work into preparing for and running convention games of any sort. Roleplaying gamemasters map out a scenario, sometimes create pregenerated characters, and occasionally even design props and player aids. Miniature wargamers paint minis and craft terrain (or gather materials from their already prepared stocks), design a scenario, and playtest the balance. Everyone, including board and wargamers, reviews their rules and makes sure they can clearly and concisely explain them to any newcomers or players who need a refresher. Then they manage the logistics necessary to attend the convention itself: registering and buying badges; making hotel reservations; budgeting for travel and meals; planning transportation, figuring out how to fit all that into the car.

Overly enthusiastic Star Wars fan
running a convention game in Mos Eisley.

At times I’ve felt like I was paying the “passion tax” or giving in to “enthusiasm exploitation,” two terms to describe how employers — or in this case, folks running these conventions — capitalize on fan enthusiasm to induce them to work for little or no recompense. I understand convention organizers maintain a difficult financial balance between income from attendees, dealers, and other resources and the expenses of renting facilities, covering insurance costs, and other promotional and operational necessities. But the volunteers running the games that make the event possible  receive little in return...at best a slight discount on admission. Granted, many do this for a hobby and don’t feel the need for compensation. They don’t seem to mind the expense in money, time, and effort to engage their gaming enthusiasm. So, assuming our carefully planned games run, and run smoothly, what do we get out of it? Our return on investment — from the perspective of content creators...and that’s what we are, for live events — often remains among the intangibles. Most conventions offer the aforementioned slight discount on admission fees. Sometimes someone offers to buy me a soda or a snack (or even homemade goodies). But mostly I bask in the intangible benefits. I take great satisfaction in entertaining players. Nothing satisfies me more than a well-played game with a host of participants still excited after it ends. I love hearing compliments from other convention goers. Maybe my game gets a few seconds in a post-convention video or a snapshot in someone’s blog report.

Years ago I had a pretty robust calendar attending regional conventions and running games, often promoting my own game publishing efforts. I dealt with my anxieties and let a few slip off my schedule as both my interests and the events changed. I found different ones that catered to my growing role as a gamer dad. Certainly the pandemic put a damp rag on in-person gaming for a few years, but it seems to have bounced back. Family life and other factors have pared my convention attendance schedule down quite a bit; at this point to one regional gaming convention I particularly enjoy, Call to Arms, whose organizers treat me — and my co-gamemaster son — with a great deal of hospitality and appreciation. I’m busy making preparations for both a miniatures wargame and a roleplaying game session...and managing my anxieties knowing it’s a amiable crowd of old, and perhaps some new, friends.

Positive Expectations

During the past 30 years I’ve learned a lot about running convention games — and open event games in general — but I’ve never quite found adequate coping strategies for my anxieties...or the issues causing the anxieties. At one point after a particularly discouraging convention years ago I took some time to reflect on why I do these events and what aspects of them bring me joy. While I work hard to have few, if any, expectations (“Expect disappointment and you will never be disappointed.”) I find taking some time beforehand to reflect on what matters most helps me cope with a more positive attitude:

Dad Time: For10 years now my son and I have made attending game conventions one of our shared activities, a time to bond, geek out, eat out, and have fun together. We share a love for games and history, and cons allow us to indulge in that together. He’s grown from playing in games to helping to set up and run them, even helping to decide what games and periods we should run. We also plan our con appearances around some local sight-seeing, something I’ve discussed before in “Father-Son History-Wargaming Weekend 2020.”

Shopping: I’ve cut back on my game purchases lately, but I allow myself to splurge at my once-a-year-con to buy some things I really want or deals I just can’t pass. The convention has a modest number of dealers and we generally find a few things we want. The Sunday morning flea market, while somewhat chaotic, often offers items we want at good discounts...and folks often make some good deals.

Running Games: Despite the anxiety and preparations, I still enjoy running games with old friends, newcomers, and folks just interested in trying something new. The past few conventions I’ve been inspired by my son’s interests, hence games involving PT boats, Pearl Harbor, Lord of the Rings, and Belleau Wood (his choice for the upcoming convention). Friends among the organizers asked me to run a Pulp Egypt roleplaying game scenario and, having had little opportunity for such gaming, am happily obliging (you can catch a glimpse of my scenario design method here).

Event Prep

After three decades running all kinds of events, especially at conventions, I’ve made plenty of mistakes...and hopefully learned a few things from my shortcomings and failures. While I have been accused of over-planning and over-thinking things, I still believe preparation can help ready us to meet most challenges, even if they’re not quite what we expected. I keep a few helpful strategies in mind:

Flexibility: My brain is not programmed to be flexible; I have spent a great deal of time in my adult life trying to overcome that programming, with varying degrees of success. Small, focused areas help...like preparing convention games. Rather than sticking with my rigid expectations for a game, I consider other ways things might play out. In designing an event, I try to ensure I can run it with one person or the maximum listed in the program. Maybe I focus on a few pregenerated characters rather than require all of them. Perhaps I pare down the forces in a miniatures game or assign multiple units to players to maintain game balance. I don’t worry too much if a game runs the allotted time (it rarely does); if it wraps up too soon, I offer to reset and run it again with the same or new players.

Player Handouts: Whatever game I’m running I like to have materials beyond the game itself players and onlookers can examine and hold to connect with the game: pregenerated characters, tent cards (to help remember names), maps, and props for roleplaying games; stat cards for wargaming units; quick reference rules sheets. But I also keep other materials at hand to engage players and entice passers by: a copy or two of the rules I’m using; spare figures to admire; and my custom-made Griffon Publishing Studio (or Panzer Kids) dice to give away.

Pack Beforehand: Assembling one’s gaming materials, especially the various terrain and figures for miniature wargames, is just part of packing for a convention. This becomes especially necessary for miniature wargames with lots of terrain. Practice consolidating materials and seeing how they pack in the car with all your other baggage. Also consider how you’ll transport them from the car to the game site itself. I’ve come to use a folding hand truck and bungee cords to secure the pile of gaming materials to more easily steer it to my event table.

Panzer Kids signs in action.

Promotions: Although I usually mention my upcoming convention games on my social media feeds, I have such a limited reach it makes little difference (other than entertaining my followers). So I focus on promotions at the convention itself right before the game. I often create signs for the game, so folks know what I’m running and where; I have some sign holders I set up before I even start prepping my game table. For miniature wargames I try to make the set-up as visually appealing as possible, going so far as to create “burning smoke plumes” with flickering tea lights for more dynamic effects. And my son has taught me that two people sitting around even the most stunning game set-up looks boring and uninspiring; so often we’ll take sides and start a game ourselves, so folks see something’s going on, and invite onlookers to learn about the game and start fresh.

By considering positive expectations and taking some general preparation steps I’m slowly getting ready for Call to Arms. Having these tactics in mind I can focus on the more pressing practical activities preparing for my games: painting figures and outlining a Pulp Egypt scenario. We’re planning a long father-son weekend, with some time at Colonial Williamsburg (one of our favorite historical sites) bookending a busy Saturday shopping dealers and running games at the convention. Aside from the usual, now-controlled anxiety, I’m looking forward to the weekend as a much-needed mini-vacation.

“You don’t concentrate on risks. You concentrate on results. No risk is too great to prevent the necessary job from getting done.”

— Chuck Yeager