Before I get into this week's article, I'd like to show a letter that I received last Thursday, the day of my last Magic Campus column and my first Star City featured article:

Subject: A fans words
Date: Thu, 06 Jul 2000 10:44:08 -0400
From: Bobby <XXXXXXXXXXXX.com>
To: derangeddad@magiccampus.com

I am truly going to miss your column here at Magic Campus. Your writing has enlightened me in what Magic is really supposed to be... a game. A game where everyone can get together, have a good time, and a good laugh. Your writing was also very deep and emotional and your absence will leave a large hole in the site and in the staff. There will never be a replacement for you. Good luck .

A great fan,

Bobby H#####

Thank you Bobby. Your letter touched me. (And he's not even a relative!)

Okay, here we go with a parable, fable or metaphor.

There once lived a man who was obsessed with Magic. He lived and breathed it. He awoke in the morning, groggily jumped from bed and raced to his computer, logging on and cruising all of the Magic sites he could before preparing for work.

He would check the trading sites. The entertaining article sites and the informative sites. And of course it took a long time to answer all of his mail because he made many trade offers every single day.

Often he wouldn't have enough time, and would almost have to drag himself away from the computer screen. But that was okay, because he knew he would be right back there online once his work for the day was done.

All day during work he thought of Magic. How to improve his decks. He even had a copy of Jamie Wakefield's Tournament Reports for Magic in his locker, ready and waiting to fill him with a jolt of Magic. Picking up that particular book never failed to thrill him and renew his love and interest in this wonderful game.

At first, when he had just started this wonderful book, he had wanted to imitate Mr. Wakefield. Play Wakefield's decks in Wakefield's style. He soon came to realize, of course, that everyone had their own style and his wasn't exactly Wakefield's.

So if he wasn't thinking about Tournament Reports, or trading, or ordering cards online - boy, was his credit card bill starting to rise - he was pondering how to speed up his Sligh deck for the next tournament.

Sure, he was by far the oldest player there. But that was okay. No one seemed to give him funny looks. He seemed to fit right in.

A man. Like any other. Only this one was Obsessed.


Or...


Once there lived a man who had left competitive gaming behind. He had been a chess expert in his youth. Had grown sick and tired of the struggle to remain near the top of the particular mountain he and players similar in ability resided.

No more, he thought.

Then he encountered Magic, and his love of games was renewed. It was confusing, at first, with many seemingly conflicting rules, and he had no one to guide him. So he began by playing Portal. Sure, some would've laughed at him for starting at such a low level. But he didn't care. Because he played for love of the game and didn't care much what anyone else thought.

In time he grew, became a better player. Not tons better, but that didn't matter at all. Better, nonetheless. He began to enter tournaments, never losing sight of the fact that this game was tremendously fun.

He had his butt handed to him many times by teens playing $250.00 decks. Card-for-card copies of the top decks in the land. At times he was tempted to pay "net" decks himself. But he resisted mightily, and continued to build his own decks using perhaps substandard but fun cards.

He often went up to two weeks without playing a single game of Magic. For while he wanted to play, he had no particular craving to play, and awaited the next convenient opportunity.

He built a red deck. A Sligh deck. At a time when no one was playing red because it was too weak to win. He still loved green, but came to realize red was his favorite color.

He did okay in tournaments. About 50/50. But even if he'd lost just about every single game, he wouldn't have minded. He found that even in defeat he could have tons of fun.

For he had found a new and wonderful place to play tournament Magic. A place where there were fun decks mixed in with evil combo decks. A place that played more than the single elimination tournaments he'd been used to playing.

He loved the game and the bond only grew stronger as the days passed by.

To him Magic wasn't an obsession, but something that weaved its pattern throughout his life, intertwined with the strings of his heart.

Oh, the joy, the love.


Or...


She was in no way obsessed with Magic, nor did she love the game. Yet she continued to play. Why? For love of another.

She did enjoy Magic; marginally, at least. Never the poster girl for being observant, mistake prone, she nevertheless strove to enjoy and please.

She couldn't stand to play more than two or three matches at a time, but that was enough.

She repeatedly made the same mistakes again and again, through lack of attention, not ability.
She even played in a couple of tournament matches. Losing both. Hasn't played a tournament in months. Says it makes her too nervous.

Is she obsessed with Magic? Does she love the game? Is she indifferent to Magic?

No, to all of the above. She falls somewhere in between, as do many of you, no doubt.


Or...


A long time ago in a faraway kingdom there was an URL (not a duke or a baron) filled with Magic.

Many came to study, and all left with a full heart and a generous smile.

No two were alike. They fell into numerous categories. Each partook of the Magic for various reasons.

And you?

Later,

Sean Erik Ponce
Deranged Dad