This week I'm going to take a more serious tone, and talk about an experience I had recently. Normally I don't believe in writing about my personal life, but since this has to do with Magic I decided to make an exception.

A few months ago I was in a weird mood, and I mean REALLY friggin' weird. For a little while, I lost the will to...play Magic.

STOP! This is not an"I quit" article; I really hate"I quit" articles. There's nothing worse than a stupid sap who wants to whine about how"the environment's broken" or how"everything comes out too fast." The rest of us don't really care if you can't stand the game anymore; in fact, the only"I quit" article that was justified was Wakefield's, since everyone loved the guy and wanted to know why he was leaving. Reading"I quit" articles make me want to toss my cookies all over the couch - almost like how my Aunt Margaret and her surprise fruitcakes made me want to uke.

But in spite of how I hate those kinds of articles, I DO sorta sympathize with players who want to quit. All of a sudden it seems like the magic is gone - no pun intended. Here's a little story to illustrate...

Happy Scrub sits down one day to play multiplayer with his friends at their usual Sunday afternoon session (let it never be said I'm stereotypical). Happy starts looking through his box to find a deck to play. He doesn't want to play green since he knows Sinister Steve maindecks Perish and if he ever sees another River Boa he'll call in the exterminators, he doesn't want to play combo because of that unfortunate, errr, INCIDENT the game after he played it last (read: He got reamed by every player at the table and died after three turns), and he can't stand watching his blue control deck lose again. Suddenly, Happy Scrub isn't so happy. He doesn't want to play any of his decks, so he tries to think of one he'd like to borrow from one of his friends... and can't. Happy Scrub realizes that he can't stand playing any of his friends' decks OR his own. Dismissing this hastily, Happy Scrub grabs his old-standby deck, Prison, which he hasn't touched since his buddy's dog decided to chew it up. (Let's all have a moment of silence for all those poor monkeys that stir sleeve plastic all day, shall we?)

So Happy Scrub starts playing - and after awhile, he realizes that he's bored. He's applying alcohol to his opponent's head in preparation for hitting them with a surgical Millstone... but he just doesn't look forward to the next game at all. It's not that he's tired - nope, he's smarter than the average player - or that he's hungry, or thirsty, or has something better to do. The simple fact is that Happy Scrub doesn't want to play any more... and this is after ONE GAME! After a while, Happy Scrub finds himself wondering if anyone else wants to go play AD&D or a video game, and three weeks later he's hanging out in a singles bar and dating a woman named Chloe with webbed feet* to fill the void in his life.

Sound familiar to anyone? These are just some of the symptoms players feel when they start coming to the end of their magical lives. Wakefield felt it. Pros who quit felt it. And even the worst Scrub feels it before they quit. It's a common thread that binds all Magic players together. Sooner or later everyone will feel this, and then comes the time of choosing: Either it'll be the glorious return, or a Wakefield exit.

So what's the solution? I don't know - do I look like a friggin' psychologist? Everyone is the same. We all do the exact same things and play the exact same type of deck. All the solutions that work for one of us will work for all of us. (Please note: the preceding three sentences were supposed to be mildly sarcastic). And it really gets worse when you're a member of a team. The team I'm on (Raynor Barton and Daniel Crane: Team Ninth Place**) suffered because of my unwillingness to play. Everyone was having fun but me, and my lack of enthusiasm for the game started to dampen their fun. So what got me out of my rut?

Time... and hype. I was showing the symptoms of a Magic Depressant for a long time. I didn't play any games except when I went to hang out with my friends, and I admit it was actually a relief. I didn't read articles on the web; I didn't talk much about Magic. I did other things. After a while it wasn't so bad; some of my old love of Magic started coming back. The introduction to a game once said,"Time will tell. Sooner or later... Time will tell." I agree with that. In my case, leaving off Magic for a while helped me get back into it, almost like a break. Of course, I missed a season of Extended and I'm still trying to catch up.

But time alone didn't do it for me. It helped, but it didn't do it all....

Hype helped get me back into Magic.

When Invasion came out, I was excited about it. New elder Dragons, new legends, Phyrexians galore. A friend of mine at Wizards told me that it was the most incredible set he'd seen in a long time (No, Wizards employees that may be reading this, he didn't give any details beyond"Invasion is sweet" - and I didn't ask him for any, either). So based on his opinion, I bought a box and started opening it a pack a day. It was great; I hadn't read any spoilers, so every card was completely new to me. I really started looking forward to my pack a day, and that transferred over to my playing. Suddenly I was raring for games... and the fact that Invasion brought with it one of my all time favorite decks, U/W Control (I was playing it before it became the part of the Trinity of Standard, thank you) made me want to play Magic even more.

That's one of the things that was good about my Magic Depressant period; it made me love the game all the more when I got back into it. So if anyone out there is losing their love for the game, stay with it. It may take a while, but once you find the joy of Magic again you'll really appreciate how much you love this great game of ours. And even if you've never felt like I did, check yourself thoroughly. If you're not as excited about Magic as you were a few months ago, maybe its time to try something drastic in your playing habits. Once you catch on to that joy, it becomes incredible. Almost as energizing as going to Church (if you're the religious type), and now the members of Team Ninth Place are all having fun once more. Things couldn't be better - my teammates and I may not be World Champions, but I guarantee that we're having more fun than Finkel in a card shop. That's something else that makes Magic worth playing: good friends, good times...

Well, enough of my random crap. I hope that this helps someone somewhere out there make the right choice and stick with Magic.

I really need to get my temperature checked - two serious articles in two weeks! (Puts imaginary gun to head). Well, I promise I'll do something funnier next week when I dig into my Extended pit (two feet deep and growing) and try to come up with something interesting. I may even let some of my broken Urza's block cards out of their cages.

Masticore: (harsh growling and machine whirring)
(Translation: Give me sacrifices or I'll rip out your lungs.)

IM: Masticore here is a fine example of one the Extended cards I have to keep caged up for the good of everyone.

Morphling: We We! Want Want! Out Out! (Begins shapeshifting erratically).

IM: Ha, all the shape shifting in the world won't get you out of that.

Morphling: Crap, Crap.

Mageta (walking by): (in a high pitched Nelson from The Simpsons voice): Ha, Ha!

Masticore: (guttural growling)
(Translation: There can only be one Lion in this jungle, Mageta. For FREEDOM!)

(Masticore begins shooting everything that moves; Israel dives under bed as Mageta responds by grabbing Masticore through the cages and twisting it in half. It regenerates and starts beating Mageta with its pipe. Mageta then Wraths, killing Masticore and Morphling.)

Masticore: (high pitched whirring)
(Translation: Stupid burying effect. I will be avenged. Long live Scotland!)

Mageta: I pity da foo who messes wid Mr. T.

IM: You meant M, right?

Mageta: Yea, whadevah.

IM: Are you and Masticore trying to get me sued for copyright infringement?

(Suddenly, sirens come from the background)

IM: Ah, crap! It's the humane society for cards. Who called them?

(From his cage, Deranged Hermit holds up a cell phone and smiles)

IM: Sell out!

Nether Spirit: Nether, Nether, Nether. Nether, Nether.
(translation: Your squirrels can't protect you forever! We will have revenge.)

(All cards begin fleeing; Israel jumps into secret passage with Nether Spirit and they flee. Squee uses the confusion to pick the liquor cabinet lock and steals booze while muttering"Squee like!")

-Israel Marques, II
- No longer a Magic depressant, but still hallucinating

* First one to figure all of these references out gets a medal signed by Nether Spirit
Nether Spirit: Nether, Nether, Spirit, Nether.
(translation: I'll show you where you can stick that medal.)

** -"The ninth place finisher is usually the worst player at the tournament"
- Omeed Dariani
Says a lot about our team, doesn't it?