Is sadly lacking these days, it seems.

Those of you involved in the Trinity gamers scene would know that I have applied for the position of Leprecon director for three years running. For three years running, I've failed to get the position. I've been upset a bit by this, but Nuge, Icecream and now Dave Gorman are all good guys. The first two did a good job, and I'm sure Dave will follow in their footsteps and put on a good show. So, while I'm obviously disappointed to be rejected, I would like to extend my congratulations to Dave, and my best wishes to him for Leprecon XXXI.

What has me upset is the manner in which this rejection has taken place.

Two years ago, when Nuge was selected, a member of the committee approached me, shook my hand, and informed me that I had been narrowly defeated in a vote within an hour of the vote being taken. Nuge himself approached me moments later and also offered commiseration. These two gestures were a perfect example of how it ought to be done. A polite rejection, an offer of sympathy and a handshake.

One year ago, how different things were. Instead of a polite refusal, I found out by text message from someone not on the committee that a public announcement had been made on the gamers forum. I was irritated to have not been informed privately beforehand. A call, a text, an email: "Dear Mr. Creaner, we're sorry your application has been unsuccessful at this time," - would that be so hard? I was also annoyed that when three good candidates had put their name forward, and one man (Icecream) had publicly withdrawn his name from consideration, that it was made clear that Icecream had been begged to take the position. Obviously, I really should have taken the hint at this point that I was not wanted.

Eventually, I was appointed to the committee, but as a second choice for a position I would describe as a joke: Guest Liaison. In the past, I've organised Leprecon's overseas guests in the spare moments while doing such minor tasks as Treasurer, Assistant Director, Trade... Obviously this was a further hint that I was too thick to take, because over the year, I worked my way up through levels of importance and influence. I was appointed to the job of Logistics, and extended the purview of this and Guests to the point where I was organising major tasks that amounted to more than half the con's expenses. In addition, I was responsible for acquiring sponsorship with a sale value of over €2000.

By the end of the weekend, Icecream publicly recommended me for next year's director. Several people from other societies actually assumed I was director and I had to put them straight on the fact that a decision had yet to be taken.

Roll on a few weeks ago, and the gamers committee were asking for submissions. Even at that point I was far less confident than a number of my friends, who were talking about this as a fait accompli. I've never been good at politicking. I decided a simple email was the best approach, stating my experience (which the committee knew already) and pledging that I would work even harder this year than in the past (I've been known to sustain significant injuries and lose up to a stone in weight over the course of a con and keep working.)

The new committee was selected, and several people approached me, unsolicited, to offer their support. However, one sign that I was not on the right path was that none of those people were on the newly elected committee. My mind swung over and back between pessimism and planning for a future that now will never come. Fortunately, I was able to put it out of my mind as I headed to England for a LRP event. I had a great weekend, and that was all good.

Finally, this week. Once again, I get a text message offering sympathies from a third party. Once again, a public announcement has been without private refusal being offered. In this overwhelmingly connected age, there is no excuse for rudeness like that. The people involved have my phone number, my email address, my facebook, livejournal... innumerable ways of contacting me. Why can they not drop me one hundred and sixty characters worth of text message? Is that so hard?

Well, I get it now. Three strikes and you're out and all that. You don't want me anywhere near your con. It's taken repeated, deliberate insults to get it through my thick skull, but I get it. If this were the 19th century, I could vent my frustration by glove-slapping Stu, but the civilised world no longer accepts duelling as a solution, so I must make do with writing it down

P.S. I wish Dave all the best as director, and for the con this year. I bear him no ill will, as I bore none for his predecessors.