Fencing Tournaments – Capitale Escrime Historical Fencing

Running a Tournament 101

[what follows is a very bare-bones, big-picture look at running a tournament, but hopefully helpful]

Tough as it can be competing in a tournament, running one is almost as hard if not as hard as being in the pools, and in some ways it’s a lot more challenging. People may not remember Fencer X’s performance, but they tend to remember whether they thought a tournament was well-run or a waste of time. Importantly, they also remember if an event was particularly biased or inconsistent in judging. Having run tournaments, I know firsthand the obstacles to a successful one, and, a few things that help. So, continuing the tournament theme, this post looks at this from the organizer’s point of view.

Planning

Organization is everything. There are typically a few essentials for a tournament and few without cost. Among the major considerations are:

Funding
event location
officials
awards
food & beverages
accommodations
advertising

Not all tournaments will include all of these. At most, one brings their own food, lunch money, and water, though water-bottles or access to fountains or sinks is normal. Likewise, few tournaments can afford to fly in and board competitors. [1]

I start with event type, then consider whom to invite. For example, in the pre-pandemic sabre invitational, my buddy Brent Lambell and I decided to team up. He had a space and I had a good idea of whom we should invite. [2] Not everyone will show, and even those who r.s.v.p. may change their minds for one reason or another, but knowing what you plan to do and how many people will likely be there determines most everything else.

Funding

Most clubs fund their own events, but if one can acquire sponsors it helps. Some may be local businesses, some well-known suppliers like Purpleheart Armory. It can be decent advertising for those who chose to assist, and even if all a sponsor covers are the awards or morning coffee, those are things that don’t come out of the club’s budget and help reduce the overall cost.

Approach sponsors respectfully and with an eye for partnership. They may have questions, especially for historical fencing events, so be ready to answer questions, direct them to your website or instatwitterface, or hand them a brochure your club has them. If their answer is no, thank them for their time and leave a good impression. Maybe next time they will agree.

Location

Depending on where one lives, there are often fees or legal aspects to renting a space and running a sporting event. In the United States, for example, proof of insurance coverage is standard. The venue will tell one what the requirements are, and since these can sometimes take time securing the location early is wise.

For larger events, one needs more space, and in the U.S. anyway that means additional costs. Locally, the larger tournaments we have had here have been hosted by several schools versus one; this helps spread out the cost and with luck increases the number of volunteers. The events I’ve put on have been small, so a gym has sufficed, but I’ve worked with tournaments that have rented entire buildings as well.

Bathrooms and/or changing rooms are usually available, but for some events one may have to rent portable toilets etc., an additional cost. Whenever possible, access to restaurants, hotels, and other amenities help. These should be listed and shared with attendees and staff—I typically include it on the flyer and in the individual messages to participants.

Officiating

With the caveat that some clubs are isolated and have little choice, it is always best to employ officials from outside one’s own club. For example, in the invitational, the director was an old friend and colleague of mine unassociated with the school. An experienced Olympic fencer, he was an ideal choice, and impartial as he knew none of those competing.

As the organizer, I likewise had nothing to do with officiating lest the event appear biased for my fencers or friends. My job was managing the event, from problem-solving (the guy with the movable rings was a no-show so we had to have someone run to the store for tape and create some manner of piste), helping people find spots for gear, and assisting with the clock and scoring table. Another friend and fencer, also unassociated with anyone fencing that day, worked with me to ensure further that nothing might appear untoward.

Tim D and Patrick B, 2nd Sabre Invitational, 2019; director, Dennis Le, judges Richard Lowrey (gray pants) and Daniel Ma (black pants)

Even with the best intentions, one can be favorably biased towards those one knows; it’s easy to read intent behind an action because Fencer X “always does that” versus what that fencer actually may have done. For this reason, if not just for appearances, it’s best not to officiate one’s own fencers or friends. If the event is isolated or in other ways unable to get sufficient outside help, then local officials may have to suffice. In that case, every effort should be made to ensure that anyone directing or judging isn’t presiding over bouts their best friends are in, and, that they are calling what they see, not what they think they saw. When in doubt, abstain.

No one wants to pay, travel, and devote time and energy to a tournament that appears rigged let alone is rigged. I have witnessed systemic cheating myself, and just this weekend chatted with a friend in Canada who attended an event that was horribly inconsistent with calls at best, and wholly ignored some actions at worst. [3] If one hopes to run an event more than once, consider not alienating and aggravating visiting competitors. It makes the host school look bad, well, to fencers who don’t favor cheating anyway.

Experience means different things. A local fencer who has judged a few longsword opens has, relatively speaking, experience, but that is not the same as the former Olympic fencer who was trained in an environment geared toward competition and who may have taken courses on officiating. I’ve found that any Olympic fencer willing to help out is open to the rule changes that come with historical fencing. If nothing else, ensure that judging is consistent. Bad, but consistent trumps bad and inconsistent. Seek out seasoned fencers, people with considerable experience, to officiate if possible.

Awards, Prizes, etc.

2019, SdTS Sabre Invitational, finalists

What one chooses for awards varies considerably. Trophies and medals can be ordered locally in many places or online. [4] These are not inexpensive considerations, so if sponsors can help, great, if not then club money will need to be set aside to cover the cost. If and when possible, something different and unique can spice things up—for example, in the invitational my club hosted we had a technical award decided by all participants. The winner of the technical award year two was presented with a page from Major Alexandre Muller’s Théorie sur l’escrime a cheval (1816) [5]. The winner of SabreSlash 2021 was awarded a beautiful sabre. If and when possible, extras like this add excitement and a little color.

Food & Beverages

With few exceptions most places I’ve used or which I have visited do not have kitchens, though when a site does it can solve a lot of problems food-wise. In the Pacific Northwest, for example, we are lucky to have a chap named Sven who loves cooking, knows how to cook for a small army, and makes seriously delicious food. Some venues will not allow food or anything save water, so best to find out ahead of time versus day of.

I try to have ample supplies of water on hand at a minimum. Fencing kit makes for a hot, sweaty day, and people need water. I’ve also done my best to bring some coffee and breakfastish pastries for guests and officials. Listing local food options is helpful as well, especially those within walking distance.

Accommodations

Housing attendees can be one of the most expensive aspects of a tournament, and, it isn’t a requirement. In the past I’ve listed inexpensive hotels as well as forming part of a pool of people happy to host out of town guests. Travel can be expensive and most people are grateful for a couch or spare room. Hosting is also a great way to get to know people, and the better ties one has with one’s community, typically the more we enjoy time in that community.

Advertising

The inexpensive ways to do this are via social media, email, and word of mouth. Posters and fliers can help, and I imagine radio or t.v. spots would too, though I don’t know any schools that can afford to advertise on radio or tele. Some, like my friend Mike’s club, Northwest Armizare, have been on television a few times, but most of us are not so lucky.

Joining events like the local Renaissance Faire or offering demonstrations at schools, festivals, and other events are other ways to advertise. Personally, I’ve found most such festivals to get more work out of us than we get new students in turn, but advertising and boosting school numbers aren’t the only reason to attend these events. A good demonstration can make an impression and one never knows where it might lead.

Officiating, again, and a Word on Rule-sets

Choice of rule-set determines a lot. Whichever rule-set one decides upon, learn it well, and enforce it as consistently as possible. Make sure competitors are aware of the rules before the tournament, and, rehash them briefly before the event starts.

No one will remember what brand of coffee an event had on hand, and no one will remember if the bathrooms were worse than any other public one, but they will remember a poorly run event and terrible officiating. For all the amenities, fencers will remember good or bad calls; they will remember fairness. If you want a tournament to become a regular occurrence, then ensure the best officiating you can obtain.

Post Script: I neglected to mention having a first-aid person on site. Some insurance carriers and/or facilities will demand it, but it’s a good idea anyway. The goal in any tournament, from my view, is to keep the first-aid person as bored as possible and then reward them nicely with public thanks, some token of appreciation if your budget allows it, on top of any fee they may collect (some volunteer, some one must hire).

Many events are staffed and succeed thanks to volunteer efforts, so be sure to thank them, publicly, for their help.

Notes:

[1] Few events can do this, and those I’ve attended that do usually offer one or the other, save for a headliner.

[2] Brent’s club has changed hands and he moved, but my hope it to get the invitational rolling again and likely as a charity event. The plan is to expand it as well. Day one will be sabre, and day two a mixed steel accolade for later period thrusting weapons. Experience taught us that a sabre open tended to invite people not ready to complete, so I pushed for an invitational where we would attempt to attract well-established, skilled fencers.

[3] Enough time has passed, I feel I can speak about the Rose City Classic in 2017 and the egregious cheating that took place. It was a larger tournament for Portland, but was co-hosted by the infamous Blood & Iron club out of Vancouver, BC, Canada. The directors were all B&I, and two of the three judges were as well. I wasn’t competing, but visiting Gus Trim—one of the vendors there—and so had an ideal seat to watch several of the competitions. There were shots the B&I judges ignored, doubles they awarded to their own, and other more subtle ways they manipulated the rules. Moreover, there was zero accountability for hard-hitting, and worse, for clearly ill-intentioned shots after the halt, the standout example being a bout between B&I’s cult leader, Lee, and another fencer, cf. https://youtu.be/3r86pARypTo

[4] Purpleheart Armory is one such resource, cf. https://www.woodenswords.com/category_s/2072.htm

[5] In the estate that selected my club for a non-profit donation, there were among the books several loose pages out of Muller’s 1816 manual. They’re in poor shape—not acid-free paper—and weren’t housed properly, but I’ve stabilized them and will continue to use them for the technical award until I run out of them.

How to Tournament

17 May-12 Aug 1928: Oreste Puliti (left) of Italy and Gyula Glykais (right) of Hungary fencing during a bout in the Team Sabre event at the 1928 Olympic Games in Amsterdam, Netherlands. The Hungarian Team won the gold and the ItalianTeam the silver medals in this event. Mandatory Credit: IOC Olympic Museum /Allsport

It seems only fair, given how often I have complained about the issues plaguing tournaments, that I should say something about the positive side of these events, and, offer some advice for those who compete in them. I’m not anti-tournament or competition, but I have high standards for them and for several reasons. First, they should be well-run and officiated. Second, they should be safe and the chance of injury reduced as much as possible. Lastly, however important medaling is, however much fun fighting is, tournaments are also learning tools, a chance to see what is working, what needs additional drill, and to test our strategies, tactics, and skill against other fencers.

With few exceptions, my competitive days are behind me, and no, I’m not happy about it. It’s less age than mileage—we pay for the fun of our teens, twenties, and thirties beginning in our forties (if we’re lucky it doesn’t start before then). It’s downhill from there. It’s not just stupid things we did when younger, though that is definitely in the mix, but decades of repetitive motion and too often not healing before starting up again. In one college event, for example, I rolled my ankle the night before, but wanted to compete so just wrapped the affected spot and fought anyway. Sometimes we’re just unlucky—I was in a serious car-accident in 2001 and not only injured my right arm, but in doing so unlocked all the existing trauma that was lying dormant. In an effort to prevent the crash I kept my hands on the wheel, which stretched out my supraspinatus tendon when we rolled, tore the rotator cuff, and released some lovely tennis elbow, the last a result of over-compensating when fencing and playing racquet sports thanks to a poor bone set. We can do a lot for a long time until something happens and we can’t.

PDX Winter Open, 2015, Steel Accolade. Here Will Petillo (in foreground) and I (in white jacket) fence a little sabre.

If time, injuries, and finances allowed, I would still be competing. I enjoyed it until sabre went electric and the flick took over foil. One of my attractions to what would become “HEMA” was the prospect of being able to compete again, but as things have turned out HEMA added new problems to the age-old issues so common in many tournaments. This is not to say that there are not well-run events, because there are—Sabre Slash, held in October each year in Prague, Czechia, and run by my friend Michael Kňažko, is an excellent example. [1] Likewise, I have heard that the Smallsword Symposium is worth attending, though I have yet to make that event. [2] By and large, however, most tournaments are poorly run collections of single-tempo doubles and abysmal officiating.

Until things change, if they do, one can still get something out of tournaments. It’s important to know what one is getting into, but with that caveat, there are several steps one can take not only to have fun at them, but also learn something.

Intelligence Gathering

Obtaining intel about other fighters is far easier to do now thanks to the internet and the tons of footage people share of their bouts on sites like Youtube. Pre-internet the typical way to check out other fighters was to show up at events and watch bouts when one wasn’t fighting. If one was super lucky, maybe there was a VHS tape around with footage, but that could be fishy—was this something the coach saved from a previous event? Hopefully. Or, was it some footage someone shot during another person or team’s training? Far less savory. Today, though, people share their bouts willingly and literally on platforms open to most of the world. Why not use it?

PDX Longsword Summer Tournament, June 2016

The value in studying other fencers is not just to see what they do, but how they do it. While super helpful when we fight them, watching better fencers and/or successful tournament fighters (not always the same thing), can helps us improve our own game. One doesn’t have to engage in intel gathering, but it’s a tried and true part of the game. Yes, game. There is a persistent, but false, notion that tournaments are somehow a “real” test of skill. They are, but not in the way most people think. There are rules, and where there are rules, there are ways to bend or break them, or, manipulate those who are there to enforce them. Thus, familiarizing yourself not only with the rules, but the officials, and players only helps.

The closest affinities between a tournament bout and an actual duel are in psychology and the role of chance. It is a lot easier to be calm, to think clearly, and use what we know when the situation we’re in is known, predictable, and subject to analysis that isn’t spur of the moment. In a sudden fistfight, in contrast, we gather intel as the fight progresses or once it’s over. If we’re smart, we size up a bar, theater, shopping center, etc. and assess potential threats, but that could be my natural bias as an American [3]. Put another way, tournaments provide us an opportunity to gather the same information without pressure and with ample time.

What to Look For: Intangible and Tangible

What should we examine? Start with general aspects. The easy things to assess are physical, such as height and thus reach. We can assess speed, the length of weapon, and the general composure of a fighter under pressure. Are they calm? Are they nervous? Do they rush right in at “allez!” or are they more calculating? If losing, do they lose composure and become wilder? Do they seem able to change tactics? Even knowing what club they’re from will tell you a lot—the fight-club style home to bruisers tend to fight a certain way, as do those from technique-driven schools, those with an Olympic background, etc.

Next, one can examine a fencer’s game and tactics. This is more successful if one knows what one’s seeing. Even sans a deep background and experience, one should be able to tell if a fencer tends to favor feints or actions on the blade or if they just wade in swinging. Does the fencer favor certain attacks? Guards? How well do they use the space in the ring or on the piste? Do they know when to attack or do they just attack whenever they feel like it? [4] Are they open in any line? Is their guard position correct and sufficient to protect them? Do they make a mistake consistently that one might exploit?

Tournaments as Pedagogical Tool

Tournaments should be fun. Ideally, they’re a chance to square off with opponents new and old, and test one’s game. Even in poorly run, shoddy events it’s possible to get something out of it, even if that means only adding another event to the list of those to avoid. Let’s assume the tournament is well-run and large enough to include a range of skillsets. Perhaps one makes it to the finals, perhaps not, but regardless each bout in the event is a learning opportunity. We often talk about competition as the crucible or pressure-cooker for what we’ve been learning, and in large part that is thanks to both the fact we tend to face new opponents and have the added pressure of rules, a clock, and ranking. Much fun as bouting with our weekly foes is, we get comfortable, complacent, and in the worse cases, cocky. Just because our favorite attack always works at home doesn’t mean it will work against unfamiliar opponents.

Competitive fencing, of any kind, can make or break people, and much of it comes down to how they view competitions. If the only goal is to win, and one isn’t winning, then it’s a lot easier to become discouraged. The top fencer at Podunk Sword Club is often shocked by a poor showing at Prominent Sword Club’s major event. Some quit after that, convinced they will never get better or that they are just not “naturals.” Others, however, seek out low-level competitions and sweep them; they like winning and it feds their self-worth needs—this may be the equivalent of an adult beating up a toddler, but somehow they see past that. A better path is to seek out better competitors, because they will push you and force you to grow; this requires, though, an awareness that initially at least one is going to lose a lot. A LOT. Be okay with that and learn from each bout, each fencer. In turn, as one advances, it helps everyone if we do our part to raise others up. Maybe you offer to be a ring-coach for a new fencer; maybe you experience the horrid martyrdom of officiating to help newer fencers see how things should be done; maybe you just offer advice to someone between pools. How we do this is everything—people can get on the ear fast when anyone suggests that they might need help, so be kind, open, and most of all only offer help if you can actually give it.

Over time, with patience, practice, and persistence, we improve, and our tournament experiences change. We’re grateful for the harder, more challenging opponents, and we realize we can never, ever underestimate anyone. Least we shouldn’t. [5] Each opponent is a teacher, each bout a chance to improve or see what needs shoring up, and if we’re really lucky, we have fun at the same time.

NOTES:

[1] Cf. https://saladellatrespade.com/2021/10/10/_fratres-in-armis_-historical-fencing-shared-traditions-friendship/

[2] My friend and colleague, Dr. Patrick Bratton, has attended this event for several years and has had good things to say about it. Smallsword, far as I can tell, tends to attract people for whom technical ability holds merit, and so while one can—and people have—won by buffaloing their way through the pools, the fencers who stand out are those who are skilled win or lose. Remember, competition = rules = ways to game the system.

[3] I jest, but also, well, depending on where one is this is an important skill. We shoot people at schools and theaters here, so…

[4] For example, there are ideal and less ideal time to attack. Some modern masters refer to looking for moments when the opponent is in “negative balance,” that is, as they just begin an action (especially if just out of distance), if they’re taking a step, or if they’ve just attacked and fallen short, since upon recovery from the lunge they’re less capable of covering themselves. [5] One of the axioms I teach is that we should never underestimate anyone. The best fencer can have a bad day, the worst a great day. History has plenty of examples where underestimating an opponent had dire consequences. Remember Signore Cavalotti, https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/66694588