It's the last match of the 2006 Gulf Coast Regionals. My opponent is talking to me, in code, I think, trying to offer me a deal. He's staring at a Burning-Tree Shaman, a Rumbling Slum, a Kird Ape, a Llanowar Elf, and a Bird of Paradise with a Moldervine Cloak on it. I'm staring an invitation to Nationals in the face, and the only female Magic judge I've ever seen is sitting next to me giving me the doggie dinner-bowl look. Half my brain is asleep, and the other half is incapacitated with gibbering, hysterical laughter.
Re-wind thirteen hours.
It's 7am and since I have trouble getting up on time, my brain is addled from my decision to just stay up all night then go to Regionals. Everything is bright, and everything is funny. I'm driving to the Clarion Inn, which Google Maps has placed on the wrong side of the freeway, ninety miles from me. I'm glaring at my gas gage as I blast the radio and roll with the windows down, compensating for my lack of air conditioning in the Houston summer. I'm crooning along to Kelly Clarkson and Whitesnake (playing on the radio in succession, not together), and I'm writing off the twenty five bucks I'm about to drop to play in a tournament I'll be knocked out of in three rounds at best.
The last time I was in a tournament outside of the neighborhood comic shop draft was in 1996, before I dropped out of Magic during the "dark times," which is how I think of the period between Legends and Urza block, when all cards had drawbacks and people sorted through boxes looking for the two decent cards in the set like starving homeless children ransacking a dumpster in the desperate hope of finding that half eaten McGriddle or a partially full can of Alpo.
There is power again in Magic! And there has been for a while now. There are horrors and wonders like there once were. Frightening combinations of cards and colossal creatures that draw a shaking breath and gasp of awe from quivering Timmies; and insane equipment that makes no sense whatsoever, except to sell packs, but is still just as insane regardless of the rational thought (or lack thereof) behind it's creation.
When my buddy Keven showed me the new cards and dragged me to the Guildpact pre-release, it was over. I was "getting back in."
God help me.
I started drafting on occasion, little eight man drafts and the occasional larger one as I contemplated how much cash I was willing to drop on the game. But casual anything has never been my style. When I get into something, I want to be good, and if at all possible, I want it to be profitable.
Kevin and I started looking at the net decks being played, and he decided he wanted to go with land destruction. I was a big fan of the insanely efficient Red/Green creatures available in the current environment, so we looked at a deck made of Gruul creatures and land destruction. Then, to both help us test and to allow for a control, we used the sideboard to slide out the land destruction and change the deck into a standard Gruul beats build.
Kevin had some of the cards and was willing to drop the cash to get the rest, so the plan was for him to go to Regionals and pilot the deck. But when he got a new job, he was unable to go, so I figured what the hell. I took the deck to go test it out and get us some much-anticipated feedback. Nothing beats experience, right?
Here's the deck, Gruuling Idiot, so called both after the necessary cerebral power required to run it, and because when the land destruction component goes off, your opponent can do nothing but sit there like he's... well, I believe the politically correct term is impaired.
We eventually decided to go with a transformative sideboard: the initial build to destroy their mana base; the secondary, which is achieved by replacing three Llanowar Elves and all the land destruction with the sideboard, designed to race to twenty life using sheer power.
Gruuling Idiot
About 8:15 I wander into the convention room holding a Full Throttle energy drink and sign in, filling out the form. Magic competition has come a long way from back when I played... you never had to write out a list of your deck back then. I turned in my slip and made my way around the room, looking for familiar faces, or faces I had an urge to make familiar. Unfortunately, Magic tourneys are not exactly the hot spot to meet women. I think there were four or five in the whole damn room. I wandered by and made eye contact with the cuter ones so they'd have an excuse to come by and ask me about my record later on in the day.
Be the flame, not the moth.
Finally our pairings are up, and upon discovery of the line to the urinals, I decide I better win or lose the first round in a hurry.
Round 1: Magnivore
I'm playing against a friendly high-schooler named Lincoln. Seems like a good kid. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't draw any two-cost tempo enhancers (Boomerang, Eye of Nowhere), and has to cast Telling Time on his second turn. This just gives me far too much time to field a killing team, and he goes down fast under pressure from Kird Apes and Burning-Tree Shamen.
Game 2 is worse. He plays first again, but my first turn Bird of Paradise issues in a second turn Stone Rain, which is followed up by a Creeping Mold, and then a Seismic Spike and a Stone Rain on turn 8. There was no way he could come back form that kind of onslaught.
Our match only took about eight minutes, so we played again at his request and he beat me. Luck's a bitch, but the casual match taught me an important lesson: beware of bouncelands if your opponent is playing any sort of land destruction. I should have mulliganed rather than keeping a hand with only one basic land and a bouncer.
Match count: 2-0
Tournament record: 1-0-0
The hidden benefits of Gruul:
Most people don't realize two of the benefits you get from playing a Gruul deck. One of them is conservation of cerebral energy. All these people playing these complicated combo and control decks go match after match straining their brains.
Not Gruul!
With Gruul you just play your creatures. Hell, you don't have to even have problem-solving skills. In fact, I'm pretty sure you don't even have to be able to do basic addition. Just don't say anything about life, and wait for them to tell you they're dead, or you are.
At the end of the day, when all these other people are holding their heads, you're just smiling serenely, fresh for the next match.
The other major benefit is that, win or lose, you're done in ten to fifteen minutes. So there's plenty of time to wander around, go to the bathroom, and check out the other decks and players.
It was on one of these walkabouts that I was checking out a perky little player shaking with rage at the prospect of losing to Magnivore.
“You okay?”
“NO! NO! NO!” She pounds her little fists on the table as she replied.
“Um... okay.”
“I don't want to lose to Magnivore again!” She explains, somehow talking and pouting at the same time.
“So don't.” When I don't know what to say, I just talk like Yoda.
“It's not that easy!” Now she's glaring at me. Scary.
“I like your pants.”
“Hey, thanks!” That was easy to turn around.
“Sure, now win.”
“Okay!”
So I left her grinning to find the next challenge.
Round 2: Azorius
I sit down from a nice guy named Jason and we get to playing. I keep hitting him, and he keeps playing Azorius Heralds and gaining four life. It was getting to be a bit of a drag; but luckily for me, subtlety and enlightenment was no match for rage and aggression. Dr. King would have been greatly disappointed. I, on the other hand, was elated to be going into round 3 without a loss.
Match count: 2-0
Tournament record: 2-0-0
Toward the end of round 2, this judge -who strangely enough was, you guessed it, a girl - sits down next to us.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Problem?”
“No, why?”
“You're a judge, right?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What is it?”
“What?”
“The problem.”
“No, no problem, I meant yeah, I'm a jud-”
“Who lies more, men or women?”
“What? I don-”
“Oh look, I won! Nice to meet you, bye”
Round 3: Husk
Round 3 is where things started to get competitive. No cheerful cut of the deck here, my opponent, Christopher, decided he needed to pile shuffle. No big. We get to playing and I draw not a single land destruction spell. All his cute little creatures are making me nervous with all their cute little special abilities. Sack this for +2/+2, sack that to get mana, sack the other to set the guys playing next to you on fire.
I'd heard of Husk, but I didn't know how it worked. The first game I didn't get to find out. Poor bastard took a knife in the back from his own Dark Confidant. I slid in my sideboard since he would be playing first.
The second game was more informative. I kept a hand with five land, thinking I wouldn't see more, what with the deck being so land light. Ah, poor deluded me. By the time he killed me I had drawn an Elf, a Jitte, an Ape, and a Cloak. Every other card I drew, aside from those four, from my opening hand through the nine or so turns it took him to win, was land. I take a certain amount of pride in being able to say I got him down to seven. Although perhaps I should just send a thank you note to his Confidant.
My first loss, yech. Nobody likes that feeling.
I get to go first, so it's time to side in that land destruction in hopes of the elusive second turn Stone Rain. Anybody remember Sinkholes? God I miss the screaming.
Game 3 rolls around, and I manage to lay down the law. His creatures have nifty little powers, that's cool. Mine wield the power of a stoned R&D department. I don't want to bother with his chump blockers, so I Cloak my Birds. There's no perk in his pudding.
“He's got no answers!” The Dickensian Ragamuffin that lives in my head cries, so I toss my eggs in one basket and equip the Birds with the Jitte I topdeck.
Let's all take a moment and give Christopher a little courtesy shudder.
Match count: 2-1
Tournament record: 3-0-0
Lunch
For five dollars we get a ticket to the hotel buffet. Talk about a letdown. There's some kind of roast beast in gravy with no flavor, and not enough seats. I sit down with a guy I've met once or twice and talk to him and the group next to us. Getting some info on the different decks populating the format. I'm told to watch out for Enduring Ideal and most especially: Heartbeat Combo. But hey, what are the chances I'll run into Heartbeat Combo?
Round 4: Heartbeat combo
David Ho is a polite, friendly Asian college student. His movements are jarringly precise and his hands know what to do without him thinking about it. I ask him if he's related to my old friend Lan D Ho, less because he has the same last name, more because they speak, move, and act the same.
I'm not familiar with Heartbeat going in either, and once again I get an education. I love it. I love learning about the different decks by playing them, seeing the cards, watching someone work them together, bring out their synergy. I learn cards ten times faster playing against them then I do looking at deck lists and rummaging around gatherer or peoples binders.
The first game my hand looks good. I've got a Forest, an Elf and a Bird, a Slum and a Solifuge, and two Creeping Molds. Unfortunately... I never draw another land, or another Elf, or another Bird. I sit and wait for David to go super saiyan on me. On the up side, when he does, I get to see how the deck works, which is nice. Since I'm not familiar with the engine, David is good enough to take me step by step through the process of my immolation, even showing me the different cards and victory options.
Since I never got to play any land destruction in game 1, David keeps a one-land hand. I'm going first and draw the perfect hand for it. When I Stone Rain his land his shoulders drop. I pass the turn, he draws and says go, I feel bad. We played a couple rounds further in, then moved on to game 3.
Game 3 was interesting. I kept the land destruction in, not so much because I thought I could slow his development, but because I hoped I could deny him colors he might need, and force him to counter spells and leave mana open while I beat him with early threats. The game was a race, and I was lucky enough to get to the finish line first. Before his last turn, I took a gamble and played a Slum instead of using Creeping Mold to destroy his Divining Top [that would've been impressive... - Craig]. I wasn't sure if it was the right play, since he had enough mana to go off if he could get to the right cards, but it paid off. Still, the most immediately profitable choice is not always the correct one.
Match count: 2-1
Tournament record: 4-0-0
I run into Magnivore girl and she's delighted to tell me she won her match.
Good for her, warm fuzzy.
Round 5: Firemane control
Bruce Cassidy is not what you'd expect from a Magic player. He looks, talks, and acts pretty normal. Since he just graduated from UT with an engineering degree, he'll even have a decent job, which puts him one up on me.
Firemane control is an interesting deck. I think I panicked him a little game 1 with a deluge of creatures. He Wrathed and in came Zur's Weirding, too early. We danced for a while with his damnable Guildmages making it hard for me to get through, but I was able to deny him Red mana all together, as well as anything else he could cast, and when my Moldervine cloak came up, after calling half the judgers in the room over because none of them could give us a decision with that reassuring tone of confidence one looks for when one asks for a ruling, we decided that however dredge might interact with Weirding, he was definitely screwed.
Game 2 went differently, and I made a mistake playing a Slum when I should have taken out one of his lands to gain tempo and possibly mana screw him. He locked up the board and we went to game 3, where I kept him at three land and ended it quick. Good match, good player.
Match count: 2-1
Tournament record: 5-0-0
I'm at the boards, checking out the standings, when a girl walks up. I noticed her earlier, and now she's standing too far away from anything but me. There's no one around she's talking to, no game going on she's close enough to see, and she's too far away from the list to read it. Proximity alert theory tells me when a girl does this, she wants to talk to a guy but wants him to initiate the conversation. Of course, there are other guys standing around, but being the arrogant bastard I am, I just assume she wants to talk to me.
“I like your earrings.” She's got on these big pink hoop earrings.
“Thanks.”
“My grandmother has some just like them.”
Horrified expression.
“What, I love my grandmother!”
She laughs.
“Which one are you?” I ask, indicating the standing sheet.
She tells me and I look, “Your name is Ashley Ashenburg?”
She nods and I say the only thing one can say when confronted with a name like that.
“Are you a porn star?”
Round 6: Critical Mass
Derrick flew in from Louisiana to compete in Regionals. He wanted to go to Nationals that bad. And you could tell, from the twenty minutes he took shuffling my deck. I've never seen anything like it. Rifle, rifle, rifle, pile, pile, pile, the Asian slide, the newbie insertion, the magician's bridge. Wash, rinse, repeat.
And the bastard jacked up my cards something fierce, to boot. I had to mulligan twice the first game, but felt okay, since I had a Jitte. Until I put it down, when his terse nod and head cock told me that I had not ruined his day at all. His came down next turn and blew mine out of the water. Then his frogs kicked my ass while he countered all my spells.
Game 2 I only had to mulligan once, but this time he was the one with a Jitte, and I had no answers. Good Lord, that's a broken card. I died by Elves and a Jitte. How embarrassing.
Match count: 0-2
Tournament record: 5-1-0
Round 7: Migraine machine (He said it was rogue, that's just the name I use when I think of it.)
Oh. My. God.
So. Many. Counters.
Okay... Robert, who's a hell of a nice guy and funny to boot, sits down across from me and busts out his deck. He's been paired down, so I'm playing the one undefeated guy in the room, aside form the two guys who get to ID twice into the final eight.
His deck has something like twenty counterspell variants, four Wraths, four Final Judgments, and four Condemns. The games lasted FOR-E-VER. (Relatively speaking. Forever for a Gruul deck is like twenty-five minutes.)
The first game was downright interminable. I'd try to destroy a land, he'd counter, then he'd go and pass the turn, waiting to counter whatever I cast the next round. I finally out drew him, and managed to beat him into submission.
To the sideboard!
I did something bit... strange here. I knew the only way I could win was if we were going card for card and he eventually had nothing but land in his hand. So I sided out my Gruul Turfs, and played with seventeen land. Then I kept only one creature on the board at a time, so he couldn't two for one me. Luckily, and I am giving good fortune most of the credit for this one, I drew the mana I needed, and no more, and was able to steadily lower his total until victor was, at last (long last) mine.
Match count: 2-0
Tournament record: 6-1-0
Round 8: the quest for the I.D.
So I'm ranked third, my opponent, Allen, is ranked first. There's a problem. His buddy is on the bubble, and needs to win, and have me lose, to have a shot at making Top 8.
This does not make Braeden a happy camper.
Allen goes to confer with his buddy and I wait; when he comes back, he tells me it's all good and we can draw. Yippie-yi-yo-ky-yeh. Top 8, here I come!
Match count: draw
Tournament record: 6-1-1
We sit around waiting for the last rounds to settle out, and then we're gathered and left in the care of judge-girl while the matches are set up.
“You, know, we draft every week at my house.” she tells me.
“You're trying to get me to go to your house? I barely know you!”
“No! That's not what I meant!”
“I need, trust, comfort, and attraction before I can do anything like that.”
“Oh my god! I-”
“Hey, matches are up! Later.”
I make the Top 8 along with Bruce, the Firemane Angel guy; Robert, the super counter monster; and of course Derrick, who kicked my ass. I'm ranked fifth..... which means I'm up against the guy ranked forth, who happens to be: Derrick, the one guy who beat me all day.
Damn it.
Final round: Fight!
The first game was incredibly tense. After he was finally done shuffling my deck, I had to mulligan. He got out a Jitte early, but I was able to kill it with Creeping Mold. We raced, and with three life to spare, I make a critical mistake. I attack with a slum I've been using to whittle down his creature force and slap him for one life a round, not even thinking about the fact that he just played a second frog and now has a pair of 3/3a, which he uses to kill my Slum.
Wow, I almost fooled myself into thinking I knew what I was doing.
Luckily, I topdecked a Solifuge and ended it on my next draw.
I love that card.
Game 2 I tried a repeat of my seventeen land tactic from round 7, as well as sliding in smaller creatures, realizing that I needed to develop my forces before he was counter-capable rather than attack his manabase, which hadn't worked so far. I wanted him worrying about what was on the board and what was in my hand as well as having to field threats of his own. Surely between the three he wouldn't have mana left over to counter my critters.
I can't say if the reasoning was accurate, but the strategy was effective.
At the end, I was in shock. Not to mention a bit loopy from now being up for thirty-six hours. He was trying to offer me a deal, which I didn't really want to take, while a judge sat next to us telling us we couldn't bargain.
He reached over the table and offered me his hand, and since we weren't playing down from the Top 4, my day was done. Thirteen hours after I had walked in, looking to get some Tournament experience under my belt and see how the deck a buddy and I had built would perform against “real” decks, I was holding a box of Dissension and an invitation to Nationals.
Utterly bizarre.
So there you go. My Regionals experience. Now it's time to go bring joy into the life of a deserving young woman. Since I have no idea what to say at the end of one of these, I'll leave you with a meaningless aphorism:
Remember, before you can ever hold victory in your hands, you must first live with it in your heart.
May you always be prepared when opportunity presents itself,
Braeden
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