Subject: Every Tuesday Night [unsolicited] Date: Thu, 18 Jun 1998 22:43:11 -0500 From: Tim Kilgore To: fkusumot@ix.netcom.com (I started this discourse a few weeks ago, and decided to wrap it up as it seemed to fit within a 'hot' topic here. If you read this and conclude that I am a scrub, I'll happily accept the accolade. Regardless, this is humanistic in nature and hopefully speaks more to your heart than to your head.) Every Tuesday night, without fail, I can be found at a storied Columbia restaurant called the Sub Shop. It's nothing fancy, with a bare concrete floor and some of the worst art on the planet proudly displayed. You can come and eat while pondering an art-deco lamp with cereal glued to the lampshade. Or you can ponder the meaning of the Chair of Many Bent Coat Hangers while you feast on a hot meatball sub. And if it is Tuesday, you can drop in and play Magic with a group of about 30 or 40 friendly gamers. The weekly Tuesday tournament is non-sanctioned. It starts at 7pm and goes on until someone wins it. Now you might be thinking that it would be pretty late by the time the last round is played, but we play single elimination - lose once and you get to try again next week. So, by 8pm, fully half of the players are out of the tournament. By 9pm only a quarter of the field is still going. And if you're playing at 10pm then you are probably hearing Chris Berman mouthing, 'He…could…go…all…the…way!" Going the distance is big deal. You see, this is the only organized tournament in my area. The first time that you win it all, it serves notice that you've either been extremely lucky or that you have arrived. Win it a second time, and you'll gain a lot of respect from the veteran players. Win it again and people will groan when they discover that they have to play you in the first round. Variation is also important, particularly if you've won the tournament a few times. Playing the same stuff, especially if it is effective, will make enemies. One time I was in the quarterfinals with a guy that was playing his sligh deck for the second week in a row. A group of three players watched the match and did everything but applaud when I eventually bested the evil red deck in two straight. One of the three later took me aside and actually thanked me. The sligh player got the message and next week he brought a respectable black deck. There are also a couple of other cardinal sins. Failing to be at least a little friendly is a bad thing. Breaking the ice with a joke or two can make for a friendly and more enjoyable match. If a situation comes up where I can explain how a card or a concept works, I generally make the effort and hope that my opponents do the same. Unimaginative decks (decks that have zero interesting or rarely played cards) deserve a little contempt. Cheating is unheard of… I don't know what would happen, but I suspect that you'd be asked play somewhere else and would be vilified for many moons to come. The tournaments are fun and they can be very competitive. Our little burg has a couple of players that have qualified for the Pro Tour and, as should be expected, they help to elevate everyone's level of play. There are a handful of other players that are just as good, but they have elected not to compete at that level. Sometimes I wonder about why these really good players aren't competing. Some don't have the predatory bent that it takes. For instance, I've twice seen some of the better players lose because they had a really fun or just plain freaky combo that they wanted to play out. It was fun or interesting and, more importantly, it was inventive. Which is the heart of why they are as good as they are and I do not fault them since they are almost always more inventive (which earns points, remember) than I. If you recall, I mentioned earlier that the tournament is single elimination, meaning that by 8pm at least half of the field is out of the main tournament. For a long time, I hated being done at 8pm. What I didn't know and have recently just discovered is that a lot of the real fun is just beginning. Because there are so many available players, it is exceedingly easy to get a 5 or 6 player game going. So for the past several weeks, I've been building a competitive deck and a fun deck. If I do poorly in the main tournament, I have something to do afterward. Well, it's actually more than just 'something to do.' I am getting to the point where I look forward to the multi-player games as much as the main tournament. I like the multi-player games for a lot of reasons. First, they are rarely as cut-throat. Someone getting mana-screwed tends to take a couple of love taps, but generally is left alone in landless agony. Everyone generally realizes, consciously or subconsciously, that the goal is to have fun. Ruining everyone's fun tends to get you dead. Play a Winter Orb. You're soon to be deceased. Play a Mana Flare and you're loved as long as X-spells aren't popping off. Drop a Vineyard and your time is limited since everyone hates the pressure of mana-burn. Play a Howling Mine and you're loved again. Set a disk on the table and you've got respect. Anyhow, the point is that multi-player games require special consideration and skills. One of the GREAT things about multi-player is that you get to use cards that have forever languished in a binder. I've known the joys of a 25/25 Rock Hydra. I've giggled at a Wall of Roots getting auctioned off for 7 life in an Illicit Auction. I've witnessed first hand the horrible destructive power of a Polar Kraken (famous last words: What? That has TRAMPLE???). And I've experienced the pleasure of killing with poison when the opponent had an impossible amount of life. I certainly prize the few times that I've won the Tuesday night tournament. But there are only a few moments of those nights that I can remember. The thing that I remember most is the release of stress once I'd finally won or maybe opening the winner's boosters with hands that are still trembling a little with adrenaline. But I can remember precise moments of the multi-player games. I remember the gales of laughter that dying to the mana-burn of my own Vineyards caused because I was laughing too. One is a solitary accomplishment and the other is shared mayhem. From my perspective, they're both worth pursuing.