A Thousand Times No

John Teti has posted an engaging, detailed account of the 2008 American Crossword Puzzle Tournament (ACPT) at Geek Out New York. I first noticed Teti at the beginning of the tournament; his dapper, Hodgmanesque air, elevated hipster quotient, and ubiquitous notebook made him easy to spot all weekend. He’s really captured the flavor and the highlights of this year’s gathering and done some excellent reporting.

Like Teti, I was also a first-timer at ACPT. While I enjoy working on crosswords, I’ve never been particularly quick solver. I knew that I would get my 17-Down handed to me on a plate if I tried to enter the tournament as a competitor. Still, I wanted to somehow join in all the fun, so I volunteered to be an official. I was put in touch with Will Shortz, and (after a brief bout of idolatrous hyperventilation) I was ready to ref.

Well, almost ready. I had left the matter of my accommodations open until the last minute. A few different friends had offered to put me up, but they were varying distances from the tournament site at the Brooklyn Bridge Marriott, none within an easy subway ride. On a panicky whim, I decided to check the tournament site on Thursday evening to see whether anyone might still be looking to go halvsies on a room.

That’s how I found Jason, my tournament roommate and doppelgänger. We’re the exact same age, we both love crosswords, both have Chinese parents, and both grew up in polite places where there is only One True Hockey — British Columbia for him and Minnesota for me. You can’t ask for a better roommate than a Canadian! Jason and I had a great time, and we’re already considering rooming together next year for ACPT 2009. (Just don’t tell my mother, who might keel over from Schaden and/or Freude if she knew.)

I came up to Brooklyn from Philly on Saturday morning, arriving just in time for the brief referees’ orientation. With all tournament puzzles played against a time limit, and with bonus points awarded for early completion, referees help to certify just how quickly each contestant has solved a given puzzle. When a contestant’s hand goes up, a referee quickly walks over to collect the completed puzzle, marking it with the number of full minutes remaining until the puzzle’s time limit expires.

Time bonuses for early completion are awarded on the basis of minutes rather than seconds. If your hand goes up with 10:56 remaining or with 10:02 remaining, you’ll receive the same time bonus in either case — ten minutes. Wait a few more moments until the clock reads 9:58, and you’ll only receive a nine-minute time bonus. Experienced competitors have learned to use the leftover seconds of each minute as proofreading time, leading hands to pop up like mushrooms during the last few seconds before the clock drops another minute.

Time is measured against the moment the contestant’s hand is raised, which may be several seconds before the referee actually reaches the contestant’s seat, and referees can often be seen double-checking the giant countdown clock before moving towards a contestant’s raised hand. A referee who spots a pair of hands raised in quick succession when the clock reads 7:03 may reach one contestant with 6:55 remaining, and then reach the second with 6:43 to go, but both contestants would still receive a 7-minute time bonus.

The strongest competitors consistently complete puzzle after puzzle without error, so the time bonuses can make or break their standings. Referees are asked to mark the time bonus on the front side of the puzzle, in direct view of the contestant, keeping the judging and scoring as transparent as possible. I was surprised by how often contestants, in a poignant mix of faith and mental exhaustion, simply accepted my accuracy as a given without a second glance.

Even more striking was the change in the room at the onset of each new puzzle. What is the sound of 700 people concentrating? Silence — the deep, absorbent silence of a steady snowfall, words falling into place letter by letter. It was a remarkable thing to experience, this very quality that makes the tournament essentially untelevisable. On your marks, get set…cogitate!