It's not unfair to have player tryouts, but it is a bit pretentious.

Seriously, all we're doing is rolling dice, eating cheetos and pretending to be being elven princesses. If it were some thespy WoD sort of group it might make sense, but you're playing old school stuff. Relax, mate.

@Talysman: I can fit (barely) 9 players and one GM in my Living/Dining Room. I've had the maximum number of players (nine) playing for a long time now. The wait list is for people who want to play but can't due to lack of physical space for more players. When a player opening happens, the person who has been on the wait list the longest gets the first chance at the spot. This isn't an ideal situation but since I only have time to run one game a week and only have physical space for nine players, there really isn't any other fair way to handle additional people who want to play.

@Rach's reflections: The game is face-to-face, I type far too slowly to run a game via Internet chat.

I've never had to do anything like this myself, though if I had enough people interested in one of my games I'd definitely see the value. Is this wilderlands game face-to-face, or via chat, or what?

I guess I should add I'm not completely on board with the *waitlist* aspect. Trials? OK. Waiting before you are even allowed to try? I guess I need to know what the conditions that lead to him getting placed on a list were. If you advertise for players and then tell the people who respond that there's a waiting list, that doesn't seem right.

I've never had so large a group that I had to shut out new players, or waitlist them, or whatever else.

That said, I have had players invited by others in my group who ended up destroying my group, pretty much. It was an odd situation, one in which three of the players were sleeping with each other. No need to go into that dynamic, other than to say that what one did, they all followed. So, when the new guy decided he wanted to GM his own campaign, he absconded with two of my other players.

The point is: One person can fuck up a close, long-running campaign. There's not reason we, as GMs, shouldn't be protective of our campaigns and groups, even as we attempt to locate new talent to bring into the fold. It's difficult enough to find the right blend of personalities, compatible schedules, love of the same sorts of campaign elements, etc., without having to accept any old entitled douchenozzle who thinks he deserves a spot at the table.

I think you're wise to do it the way you do. So long as you're clear about that expectation, then it serves a valuable purpose, perhaps the most valuable purpose: Keeping the game fun for the people who are playing. And apparently in this case it worked as designed. One asshat detected and dispatched.

Good science no!

I mean, look. We are entitled to get our needs met. You are talking about a life interaction and commitment. You are upfront and clear about the process.

Rejection is difficult to take. Behavior like the rejected player's behavior means what exactly?

What's he say? 1) The group should conform to me. 2) Being judged on my interpersonal chemistry (which is really his merits and natural ability) is not equitable. 3)That because he has requested something, that means is entitled to what he has requested.

Well, that's absurd. Life isn't fair. People are under no obligation to conform to you or your requests, and it is ridiculous to think that because you want a thing, that means you should have a thing.

These are fairly straightforward observations necessary to successfully cope with life. What might the behavior of a person be who does not conform to these understandings? Childish? Insecure? It is not for me to say.

My personal opinion is that you were wise to do what you did.

Our problem tends to be folks who drop out for normal life reasons, and then want to come back after we've replaced them. There is only so much room at the table, particularly for some GMs and games (we tend to rotate games ever 2-3 months of weekly play). I kinda wish all our B-teamers would get together and form a second group.

For the record, I don't feel guilty and I agree that this person failed their tryout before it even started. I was just wondering if I was so out of touch with "modern gaming" that I was not aware that a "try-out" period had become "badwrongfun" or something.

@Joesph: That's my favorite scene in The Dark Knight. Unfortunately, our try-outs aren't that awesome. 🙂

Yeah, I'd say that reaction in and of itself constitutes failing the tryout. I'd tell him to piss off.

It's somehow "unfair" to want to make sure that a new person fits in with the rest of the group? Somehow waiting on a list guarantees acceptance? Utter nonsense.

Don't you feel even a momentary twinge of guilt. The guy is a self-entitled doofus, and you probably spared yourself a lot of grief by tossing him out before he had a chance to disrupt the game.

Not unfair at all, in my opinion. In another part of my life, there are a variety of ways that we can organize groups. Some groups try to operate by open invitation, others by private invitation, and some accept all comers but place new members in a trial period. Of the three methods, the last two are most common among groups that last, while the first tends to result in groups that self-destruct, sometimes spectacularly, fairly quickly.

Basically, a group is a type of ecosystem. It requires care to ensure that it doesn't become imbalanced, and the best way, perhaps the only way, to do that effectively is to vet new members of the group. That can either occur beforehand (the private invitation model) or during the early days of membership by creating a socially limited role for a time during the evaluation by the group (the trial period model). There are too many possible problems that can be created by an unknown recruit, due to their psychological makeup, clashing with established group members.

Personally, I think that the person you describe failed his trial period before even playing in a session. His approach was not compatible with that of your group, and he was a disruptive influence from the beginning. You don't enter a new group with an immediate eye to changing factors that the existing group finds to be good or helpful.