Writing a Rules Document People Will Actually Read

The seven-section rules document published at lgofleagues.com/rules/ does something unusual: it organizes information so that every heading answers a question that would otherwise be settled by shouting. The sections read, in order: "SPORTS/LEAGUES COVERED," "ROSTER MOVES," "ROSTER SIZES," "SCORING," "HOW LONG IS EACH LOL SEASON/CYCLE?," "FREE AGENCY/WAIVER RULES," and "CALENDAR." That sequence is not alphabetical. It is chronological. A manager who opens the file at midnight in March finds the draft first. A manager who opens it in August finds the trade deadline. The document was built by watching where arguments actually begin.

Photo: Shixart1985, CC BY 2.0 · source file

The Sections, in the Order They Appear

Most rulebooks start with definitions. Ours starts with scope. "SPORTS/LEAGUES COVERED" names the three sports and which professional leagues count for scoring. That placement matters. In 2017, three managers spent a week arguing whether the WNBA counted for basketball points before discovering the rulebook never listed the leagues at all. The section now sits at the top so no one drafts a player from a league that does not exist in our scoring.

"ROSTER MOVES" comes second because that is when managers begin trading. "ROSTER SIZES" follows because that is when they realize they have too many players and must cut. "SCORING" waits until fourth because scoring only matters once the roster exists. The document forces the reader to encounter the rules in the same order the season imposes them.

The final three sections address time. "HOW LONG IS EACH LOL SEASON/CYCLE?" defines when a championship ends. "FREE AGENCY/WAIVER RULES" explains how to replace players during that window. "CALENDAR" locks the dates: March 17th, 2018 for the draft, August 2018 for the supplemental snake draft, and the seasons that fall between. A manager who reads to the end knows exactly when the argument about playoff seeding becomes irrelevant. It is August 31st.

Say the Arithmetic Out Loud

The rules document states roster arithmetic in a single line: "TOTAL = 49 PLAYERS PER TEAM FOR ALL SPORTS AND 1 SUPPLEMENTAL DRAFT SPOT X 14 TEAMS = 700 PLAYERS DRAFTED FOR THE LEAGUE." That sentence survived seven drafts because it can be checked by a stranger. A new manager reads it, multiplies 49 by 14, gets 686, adds the 14 supplemental spots, reaches 700, and knows the pool size before opening the player list.

Most leagues bury this number. They list roster spots per position and leave the manager to calculate whether the league has 600 or 800 active players. That uncertainty becomes the foundation for disputes about waiver wire scarcity. Our document places the total in "ROSTER SIZES" because that is where managers look when they wonder why their sixth outfielder matters.

The placement also reveals a design principle: arithmetic that lives in two places will eventually live in three. The supplemental draft spot appears only here, in the total calculation, and in the "CALENDAR" section that names the August draft date. Nowhere else. A manager who wants to know whether the supplemental spot can be traded must read both sections and conclude the document does not say. That silence is intentional. The rule exists to prevent a specific abuse—stockpiling supplemental picks—so it is defined only where the abuse would occur.

Write the Example, Not Just the Rule

Keeper rules invite catastrophe. A manager keeps a player, assigns him a round value, and discovers in October that three other managers interpreted the same sentence differently. Our document does not define keeper depreciation. It demonstrates it.

The example reads: a player drafted in the 18th round in 2017 is a 16th-round keeper in 2018 and a 12th-round keeper in 2019, and returns to the pool in 2020. The arithmetic is visible: minus two rounds the first year, minus four the second year, no third year. The manager who drafted that player in 2017 knows his fate through 2020 without reading another sentence.

The document adds a complication: two keepers that land on the same round value cost an extra round. The example becomes: with two 14th-round keepers an owner gives up both the 13th and the 14th selection. This is not explained. It is stated as a cost. A manager who skims for the rule finds the mechanism. A manager who needs the justification finds the arithmetic embedded in the example. Both stop reading before they reach the message board.

Examples work because they foreclose interpretation. A rule that says "keepers lose value over time" invites a debate about what "lose" means. A rule that says "18 becomes 16 becomes 12 becomes zero" ends the conversation. The document contains exactly two worked examples. Both survived because they answered questions that had already produced three league-wide votes.

Name the Tiebreaker Before the Tie

Disputes accelerate when two outcomes are equally valid. The rules document anticipates these moments and settles them in advance.

FAAB bidding runs on a $100 budget per season per sport with a $0 minimum bid. The tiebreaker is reverse order of standings on the day waivers run. That sentence appears before the description of how to submit a bid. A manager who loses a player to a $0 claim knows exactly why: the other manager was losing worse, and the document said that mattered first.

The playoff structure receives the same treatment. For teams that lose in the football playoffs, the regular-season finish decides who finishes higher when comparing losers of the first and second rounds. The sentence does not say "higher finish matters." It says "regular-season finish decides." A manager eliminated in the first round knows whether he picks before or after the manager eliminated in the second round without consulting the commissioner. The information is in "SCORING," the section he already read to learn how points accumulate.

Tiebreakers named late become weapons. A manager who discovers the tiebreaker only after losing a claim believes it was hidden. A manager who reads it in the same paragraph as the bidding rules understands it as structure. The document puts every tiebreaker in the section that introduces the mechanism it governs.

What a Rules Document Must Not Leave Out

The "CALENDAR" section lists four events and one budget. The draft dates are March 17th, 2018 and August 2018. The seasons are named. The budget is $100 per season per sport for FAAB. These are limits, not suggestions. They prevent the argument that begins with "I did not know we had a deadline."

The document does not explain why March 17th. It does not justify the $100. It states them as facts that existed before the reader opened the file. A rules document that apologizes for its limits invites negotiation. This one does not.

The section also contains the only sentence that addresses all three sports simultaneously. The draft, the supplemental draft, and the FAAB budget each apply to baseball, football, and basketball. The calendar does not separate them. A manager who plays one sport learns the structure of the others without additional reading. That density is intentional. The document was built by measuring how far a manager will scroll before giving up and sending a text.

Our rules document is worth copying not because its rules are right. It is worth copying because the order of its sections assumes that every manager opens it once, late, in a hurry, and needs to settle something before the next game starts. The 18th-round keeper returns to the pool in 2020. The $100 budget does not refresh until March. The calendar says so, in that order, so no one has to say it twice.