I intimately knew every card contained within the Invasion set way before it was released. I was able to study each card, its function, and even its flavor text, courtesy of the spoilers available on the 'net. I even knew what some of those cards looked like, thanks to the uncut sheet that made its way onto eBay and the special magazine releases and artwork featured on certain sites. If I had attended one of the Invasion pre-release tournaments, I would have been as prepared as anyone else there. While I was definitely excited about the new cards, it was nothing like the intense buzz of the good old days.

My wife and I had gone halves in a case of Invasion boosters with Dave, a friend of ours. We rushed the boxes home and ransacked every pack until none remained unopened. Sure, there was some fun to be had looking at all of the artwork. But already knowing what every card was, I put the last empty packet into the trash feeling a little blas? about the new cards.

Once I would have experienced sheer wonder holding all of these cool new cards in my hands. Instead, I was comparing the spoiler with our cards and wondering how the hell we only came away with one Blazing Specter from three boxes (sound familiar, Rizzo?).

Once I would have wondered what cool new cards I would get next. Instead, I wondered where all of the dragons were (we're still searching for Rith).

Once I would have cherished the cards we already had. Instead, I wondered if we could come up with enough extra uncommons and rares from the three boxes to trade for the ones that seemed to have escaped us (we couldn't).

Once I would have been excited about being able to play with new cards. Instead, I wondered who would play with any of these cards until older, more efficient cards rotated out of the various environments.

In other words, the marvel I had once experienced opening a pack of Magic cards had been replaced with different sensations altogether. Only now have I realized that somewhere, in between the time I opened my first Revised starter and when I was busting open box after box of Invasion in a vain search for multiple Spectres, I had somehow lost that magic.

Humor me dear reader, as I now take a jump to the left of this sordid tale and present a story set in a time some seven or so years ago.

It's the early nineties. We're in the mining town of Newcastle on the east coast of Australia. There's a young lad of twenty or so, with a new job and way more disposable cash than he's ever had before. He haunts the local hobby store across the street from where he works during his lunch break. He completely ignores the radio-controlled cars and model trains that also inhabit the store to consistently check out the roleplaying aisle every week. He's looking for something new and exciting to spring on the small group of fellow D&D players he spends much of his free time with. Disgruntled at the lack of new 'stuff' released recently, he is about to head out when a salesperson approaches him and introduces him to this new big thing called Magic: The Gathering. It's a collectable card game, and something completely foreign to this young lad (aside from the Star Wars, KISS, Cricket, and Football cards that he used to collect in his formative years). He buys two Revised starters and opens them with great excitement and an overwhelming sense of wonderment. He gets back to work - late from lunch, of course - but has a feeling that this Magic thing is going to be way cool!

The next day he is back at the store and buying more cards. In fact, he buys more cards whenever he can find the cash to spare.

When he's invited to a friend's place for a football-watching party, he has to take his cards with him. By now they are inseparable. At the football party he shows the cards to another friend, Steve, and teaches him how to play. Soon, the cards have been split into two roughly equal piles and the games begin. After a while, Ray breaks away from the televised football match to see what they're up to. He's instantly hooked and the cards are split into thirds. The football game is forgotten, and they enjoy their first ever multiplayer game. More and more games follow.

Soon after that day, everyone in their group has piles of their own cards, and they spend many long days and nights sprawled out on the carpet summoning beasts and flinging fireballs at each other's heads. They are truly addicted and enthralled.

That young lad was me - and while I've moved on since then (across to the other side of the planet), I'm eternally thankful to the salesperson that went out of his way to show me Magic. I'm proud to have spawned its adoption by our gaming group. I enjoyed the many games we played, and the multiplayer duels that went on for what seemed like hours on end. I liked waking up late on Saturday mornings to find myself strewn amongst d20s, cards, and fellow gaming friends. I cherish the memory of being pissed at the booster I opened which contained nothing but commons, commons and more commons until I got to the very last card; my very first Shivan Dragon. I also fondly remember my first Ball Lightning from The Dark and the loud exclamation of "Whoa!" I shouted when I read the card.

Those were the good old days.

I'm not sure when it happened exactly. I cannot pinpoint the time when I lost that magical wonder that I had for the game. Gradually I started spending more and more time away from it, until I finally quit altogether.

Yes, I left the game. Completely. Packed up my cards and binders into a box never to be looked at again.

But the story doesn't end there.

One day my wife Amy and I were cleaning out a closet when we discovered the cards, dusted them off and spread them all out to have a look at them. That's all it took. We were playing all over again.

We came back into the game around the time of Visions. We found a group of people that played at local stores and started regularly attending the tournaments those stores held. But the magic did not return. Something was different. The game was still really enjoyable. I learned a lot from my wife, our new friends, and the tournaments we attended. I started to actually win tournaments. I enjoyed becoming more competitively viable in this game I loved so much. But that magic was still missing.

And despite how long I wait for it, it has never returned. Recently this has been bothering me. I miss that special buzz that I have long since lost. Now, however, I have resolved to do something about it, and the release of Planeshift seems as good a time as any.

I've developed Scott's Seven-Step Program For Recapturing The Magic (Patent Pending) - I'm just kidding! Seriously, though, I HAVE decided to take a different attitude and make some fundamental changes to my approach to the Planeshift release in order to boost my enjoyment of the game.

Like a Krovikan Plague, I'm going to avoid the Planeshift spoilers that will undoubtedly abound on the net over the coming month. In all reality, I do not see the need for the existence of spoilers. They are evil, surprise-crushing, enjoyment-busting creations. Perhaps they are the work of the Devil, like adventure game walkthroughs and those music commercials with scenes from the movie you are about to watch on video. I don't need them. Thanks.

I'm already anticipating the opportunity to bust open my first pack. I can't wait to slobber over the mysteries that lay waiting inside. We also plan to attend one of the Planeshift pre-release tournaments this time around - I'm looking forward to that, too. I'm going to have a ball trying to work out what to do with cards I've only seen for the past ten minutes. I'll probably build a complete pile, but I'll have a great time doing it. If you face me in any of those duels, and, unlike me, you've studied and know what you're doing... Please be gentle!

I expect that we'll still get a couple of boxes for this new release. After all, we're going to need these cards to play consistently. I'm not going to be concerned with checking them off against the spoiler, though. This time I'm going to enjoy each card on its own merits, and not as part of a drive to complete the whole set.

I plan to recapture that elusive magic with the release of Planeshift, and I am going to do it sans spoilers. Because, true to their name, they really do spoil what should be a special moment between you and your new cards. I am hopeful that I will succeed, and if you've been missing that little sparkle from your game... Maybe you will, too.

Wish me luck, as I do you.

Scott English

PS: The response to my previous article (www.starcitygames.com/news/Magic/010116english.html) was fantastic. Thanks to all of you that sent me feedback - it's always appreciated. I'm sure many of you won't be surprised to know that Rizzo actually came up with the suggestion for a Highlander format that banned all white cards. All except Disenchant, that is (which I'm sure was just to annoy the crap out of me). Perhaps this format should be called Highlander, The Kurgan Years.