Imagine if you will, two idiots.

Two slightly overweight Magic nerds (one of whom hasn’t shaved in three days and is wearing an oversized T-shirt reading “JENIUS” [yes, with a “j”], the other wearing a watch that costs more than your car) wandering like aimless SuperBalls around downtown Baltimore for two and a half hours.

You have seen HBO’s The Wire, yes?

Baltimore, Maryland is known in some parts (like, you know, Baltimore, Maryland) as “Bodymore, Murderland”…because, you know, of all the murdering and stuff.

You see, Joshua Ravitz (who should be flush on account of just making Top 8 of the StarCityGames.com Invitational) and I had no idea where our car was.

… So we spent the latter part of Sunday afternoon tooling from parking lot to parking lot, visiting, in fact, any building decorated by an oversized blue “P” (and most of them more than once).

After the aforementioned two and a half hours, we were picked up by a female police officer who ordered us to get in her car for our own safety.

“In hindsight,” Josh would later confess to me, “we were pretty lucky to get out of there alive.”

But being rescued by a female cop (who referred to me only as “citizen” and addressed Josh over and over as “sir” to my childish delight) was simply the appropriate cap off to a weekend of rapid-fire and embarrassing daggers.

Well, unless you count not actually making it home in time for the season premiere of Mad Men.

It took her all of five minutes to find the appropriate parking garage.

The back of “the cage car”? There isn’t much legroom.

Matt Sperling-Inspired Decks

I played two decks last weekend, one for Standard and one for Legacy. Here they are:

As you probably know if you read this column regularly, I wanted to play a Gitaxian Probe deck. Initially I was going to play an Esper Spirits deck like the one Sam Black and Jon Finkel played at #PTDKA, but at the ripe old record of 1-0 in Magic Online 1v1 queues I was dissuaded from this course by a trio of Brian David-Marshall, Patrick Chapin, and Finkel himself. All of them told me to practice Delver instead of Spirits (though they all had different reasons).

Pouring my Standard preparation 100% into Delver, the main mark I laid on the archetype was the re-adoption of Mental Misstep.

I was rewarded in my very first Delver mirror match, where Mental Misstep annihilated my opponent in our first sideboarded game.

In all my testing for the Invitational, I only lost one total match to another Delver deck, a long, drawn-out affair where we both had terrible draws…but he had [one?] Midnight Haunting.

Matt Sperling once told me that he thought Thought Scour was Constructed unplayable. I knew I wanted a Midnight Haunting, and I needed to have Divine Offering functionality in my 75 (and sideboard room was at a premium with the previously unaccounted-for Mental Missteps and some very necessary Ratchet Bombs [my worst matchup online was consistently Tokens])… Thought Scour was simply the weakest unique spell in the 75, so those morphed into the aforementioned white instants.

Overall, my analysis of this deck is “can’t complain.”

I found myself envious at the end of the second day (more on that later) of grinders who can slug it out weekend after weekend. I am sure that if I gave myself 50 or so double-tournament back-to-backs, I could hit double-digit Top 8s.

But alas, this weekend was my only shot, and I squandered it.

Patrick Chapin added Stoneforge Mystic (Shuko redundancy on Nomads en-Kor), which allows the deck to encompass essentially the entire functionality of the Esper Stoneblade archetype in just six cards (on top of having a turn 2 kill deck). And because this section is dedicated to Matt Sperling, he suggested I play with Lim-Dul’s Vault last year (which largely takes the place of green searchers, improving mana consistency, and can be pitched to Force of Will).

This is an article about getting out of my losses, and as usual, you can make your own determination as to the deck’s viability. I think it’s excellent and can’t wait to play it again at the next Invitational. My losses were for the most part comical, ludicrous, generous, depressing (or more than one). My wins were…wins.

I’ve put a lot of thought into playing Grand Abolisher; I think it would be a fine maindeck card, but I like Abeyance as a sideboard card because it actually has a lot of interactive usefulness (i.e., you can play it against High Tide or in response to a planeswalker hitting play).

The Preamble

In the second round of the Invitational, I found myself paired against persistent enemy Dave Shiels. Dave is one of the players I respect most who I’ve played in the last couple of years (and with good reason, of course). At the time I was 2-0, with one win being a match where I made maybe five decisions, three of which were wrong…but I was playing Delver (and that was enough).

Dave, on the other hand, lavished me with tales of great matches that made him want to play more and more Magic. And really? What else can we ask for?

Later in the weekend, I had some matches that made me feel the opposite.

It’s been a long time.

Now after an initially frustrating Day 1, I got the “tough love” call from Patrick Chapin.

He brutally urged me to take everything awful I was feeling and channel that passion into a win in the Standard Open.

Not to spoil the ending, but I didn’t win the Standard Open.

With Top 8 on the line—on camera—I called Patrick to watch.

When I didn’t get there, rather than a Pat on the head, this is the text I received:

… So that’s what you get.

Let’s start with the match against Dave in round 3.

Dave was playing a kind of anti-Delver Delver, with a Humans sub-theme including Champion of the Parish.

The big kick for me in game 1 was that he had Timely Reinforcements, set it up against me, and even flashed it back with Snapcaster Mage!

A combination of Dave leveling himself around turn 5 (he held a land to bluff) and two consecutive topdecks on my part allowed me to steal the game.

Dave won a game 2 that either of us could have won.

So here’s the one that’s interesting.

Shuffling for game 3, before we’ve finished sideboarding/haven’t presented yet/etc., I told Dave that I was going to let him go first. He didn’t trust me, but I ultimately let him go first.

You can argue all you want about whether this is ever right in the Delver mirror, but this is what I thought:

1. Dave got me with Timely Reinforcements in game 1. A man with Timely Reinforcements in his deck might have lots of Timely Reinforcements after boards, and I wasn’t going to have any great way to beat those; I couldn’t count on getting lucky again and again and again.
2. On balance, I had my Timely Reinforcements in my deck. By going second, I could potentially set Dave up so that I could get him at his own game.
3. Most importantly, Delver was my #1 best matchup in Magic Online testing. I was very happy with my performance in the mirror, and I was used to going second with Mental Misstep in my deck.

What happened is that Dave got a savage Champion of the Parish + Delver + Delver draw with a Blade Splicer, and I had to work desperately just to stay in it.

He eventually bowled me over.

The death knell was not even that he had such a good set of quick drops, but he flipped his first Delver with a Mental Misstep of his own.

My jig was up. Finis. Etc.

It’s kind of a fun story because of the question about what I could’ve done differently. For one, I could’ve just gone first. Letting my opponent go first—and then his having such a savage draw—is like karma.

… But really, I don’t know that I could’ve beaten his draw even if I were on the play.

I took another loss in Standard, but it wasn’t very interesting.

My first loss in Legacy is just a classic “ring rust” one.

It was game 2 against GP Champion Tim Landale playing High Tide.

High Tide is a super good matchup for Breakfast (you’re a turn faster and have more than twice the disruption), but Tim got me in a game 1 where I played a million manips…and they got me nowhere.

Game 2 was looking superb, though.

I had already gotten Tim with Abeyance. He started a High Tide turn, I let him play a couple of spells, and BAM! Abeyance!

It was semi-Mind Twist-y.

Better yet, I was bashing him. I had a couple of guys out and a relatively short clock; one of them was a Meddling Mage on High Tide.

And best, my hand was insane…Abeyance, Brainstorm, Ponder, and more blue cards.

So what was the mistake?

On my turn I played Ponder, put three cards into my hand (I was staring at Brainstorm), and immediately called the judge on myself.

Tim chuckled, as he didn’t even notice the mistake.

Obviously I had played Ponder as a Brainstorm, and I was about to pay the game loss penalty for it.

So what could I have done differently?

It’s pretty obvious, no?

So that’s the first of four losses that were recorded on the standings that my deck didn’t really earn. The outcome of the match certainly wasn’t certain, but again, the matchup is superb and I felt like I had that game, at least, well in hand.

Next loss (the next round) was the first of many brutal daggers.

No, not the second.

I actually chuckled at killing myself with a Ponder at the time. Even knowing Tim didn’t notice, I would call the judge each and every time because that’s what a non-sociopath does in these situations, right?

The next match was the one against Zack Hall.

It was never really my intent to put this match under some dozens of thousands of microscopes, and I avoided the Twitter questions when they came last Friday (prompted by a discussion by the coverage team) just as I have the last couple of days.

It’s out there, and I’m sure many of you have already drawn your conclusions based largely on imagined semantics or entirely on predisposition.

Memory is a tricky thing.

I have told the story so many times (and I’m sure Zack has told his version so many times) that either of us could have convinced ourselves of a set of “facts” that in no way conform to the actual events of the match.

I will beg you this, though:

You must, I think, accept that all of us play physical Magic by a language that goes beyond the words we say, that summarizes many words, of body language, tone, how we hold ourselves, and how we hold our cards, that allow matches to end inside of 50 or even 55-minute rounds. How many times in the last week, for instance, have you verbally uttered the words “second main phase?”

Did Zack say, “Show me,” or, “Show me the combo,” or, “Just show me the combo?”

I certainly wasn’t Jedi Mind Tricked. Absolutely not. I typically high five anyone who successfully Jedi Mind Tricks me because I think it’s awesome, and I enjoy the experience and value the opportunity much more than any one game win (especially carrying three losses already).

As I said before, we all “speak” a particular language, and my reading of Zack’s response, the cadence of his voice, nod of his head, his body language, and so on was a reading of “I concede.”

Any third party reader is of course welcome to disagree with me, but they will not have any standing on this topic without having been in that exact spot.

Let me explain:

Can you tell me what either of these sentences means outside of context?

“I hate you” is pretty unambiguous of its three syllables, but who can’t imagine clapping his best friend on the back, laughing, and saying, “I hate you,” right after a well-executed prank? In that case, “I hate you,” means anything but and might even be a voice of admiration.

How about, “You’re going to love this?” Same words, entirely different meaning if you’re quietly smiling while handing your wife a tiny velvet box…and if you’re sarcastically delivering bad news to your boss. The words are the same—that is you can certainly read the words…but it’s ludicrous for anyone who didn’t have them directed at them to voice what they meant in context. There’s literally only one person in the universe whose opinion matters on this topic.

So… Did I screw up?

Obviously.

There are many things I could’ve done better.

But I don’t recall making any in-game mistake.

I never actually went through any legitimate part of the combo (i.e., I don’t recall actually ever targeting my Cephalid Illusionist with my Nomads en-Kor).

Lots of people have imagined all kinds of different scenarios, some plausible…but most not. I was so excited I had a turn 2 kill; I must have forgotten it was my upkeep! I’ve had a turn 2 kill with Force of Will back up before, believe it or not; this, in fact, was only turn 3. I didn’t forget that Dread Return is a sorcery. Zack had two Surgical Extractions! (He didn’t.)

Zack could have been playing Pyrokinesis or Force of Will… Why do I get free information? (Come on.) I must have had so many combo pieces and Cabal Therapy in my hand that I couldn’t actually go off, and I was tricking him! (It was in-game impossible for me to not go off.) I must have erred in haste! (Hasty what? I don’t recall ever targeting my Illusionist.) Like I said before, people will draw whatever conclusions they like, but most of the ones where I’m going off, shipping out Narcomoebas, and smacking myself in the forehead require at least some amount of imaginative invention.

Isn’t the world—and this fact pattern, really—perturbing enough without bringing in all kinds of imagined angles that we all know to not be true into it? Isn’t it pretty obvious that all of them take a bit more work to believe than the simple reality that if someone asks you to just show him your combo, you—you know—just show him that combo?

I said before I didn’t want to dwell on “facts” that really aren’t facts. My deck was upside down or in Zack’s hands or whatever. I didn’t call the judge.

Probably the biggest thing that could directly affect the outcome of the game was not calling the judge. Roughly 999,999,999 people have all told me the same thing, which is that it would have been very likely for me to get—at least—a backup, which would’ve most likely put me in the winner’s seat. As it was, I denied myself any such chance.

My mind previously couldn’t imagine a reality where this would happen, a reality where my opponent concedes and then opportunistically daggers me with some draw phase BS.

Tilt doesn’t describe what was happening in my brain.

Could the judge ever rule for me? There’s my deck, upside down or in my opponent’s hands. It certainly looks like I tried to go off! Reality? I never even considered it.

Probably should’ve called the judge.

… You know, like I did on myself the very round before.

Anyway, that was another loss.

If there’s any consolation, at least the FinkelDraft mailing list has ceased—for now—to crack “block the Wolf” jokes at Jon’s expense (yay!) in lieu of the “show me” stripe at mine (not so much).

After a round 1 loss in the Standard Open, I battled back eight consecutive times, including breaking my own all-time record. Win, lose, whatever else, I was fiercely proud of winning with:

Gitaxian Probe
Geist of Saint Traft
Invisible Stalker

No. No lands, you buffoon! That’s a pretty flaccid seven-card hand. But on 3?

How about if he extends the hand on turn 5?

Like I said, point of pride.

I got back-to-back-to-back G/R decks (Ramp, White Ramp, and Jackie Lee deck) with a solid sideboard plan.

Equipment sucks against G/R. Even if they’re beatdown and you’re Swords, all my opponents sided in two copies of Ancient Grudge. The bad, bad thing about equipment is that if you keep it in, you’re liable to over-value hands with it…which just put you even further behind if they have Grudge (they will have Grudge). Also, Invisible Stalker sucks without equipment; those are lots of cuts.

Josh watched me play a bit and came to the conclusion that the Misstep sideboard plan may be “too good” for G/R. You can stop Galvanic Blast; you can stop Birds. In reality, you are Birds. Birds jumps their mana; you’re trading at zero mana…basically the same thing, while you’re presumably acting with Delvers or Ponders.

I was actually very excited to play under the camera for Top 8.

I’d won two matches on SCGLive with the same 75 so far, and I wasn’t feeling nervous.

I also wasn’t in a great physical state. It had been ten long rounds, many of them stressful (even when they weren’t on three cards). The Starbucks had been closed for between five and seven hours, I ran out of almonds two rounds earlier, and there wasn’t so much as a working water fountain. At that point, I was drinking warm tap water out of a bottle Joey had stolen for me somewhere in the single digits. I’d like to think in New York, with a bag full of Sugar-Free Red Bull, it would’ve gone the other way.

Most of Twitter clapped me on the virtual back, saying my opponent severely out-drew me. True. But I still could’ve played better.

Here are all the things I could’ve done differently:

1. I paid two life for Gitaxian Probe on turn 1. I know this is controversial, but I didn’t have a one-drop; most players would pay two life, but given the same situation three previous times in the tournament I paid U.
2. I played a land before attacking with Sword of War and Peace the first time.

   — Between these two plays that’s three life. My opponent’s alpha on the last turn wouldn’t have killed me if I’d had three more life.

3. I also attacked with my Insectile Aberration when he had only a Delver of Secrets prior to the last turn, leaving back a Delver of my own. He blind-flipped the Delver and that helped to kill me on the alpha; leaving back the Insectile Aberration might have stopped it with a block.
4. In the second game, I drew Mental Misstep and countered a midgame Ponder with it. Patrick Sullivan said he doesn’t think this was a mistake (because who knows what Ponder would’ve given him), but I thought hard about one mana anti-creature spells like Vapor Snag and how important it was to suit up a Spirit. A turn later he had his one Gut Shot and a Snapcaster Mage… The game might’ve gone differently if I’d ever gotten in with my Sword of War and Peace.

I don’t know if I had made those plays differently that I would’ve made the Top 8; I only know that I didn’t and I didn’t.

Dagger number 187 on the weekend?

17th.

Playing for Top 8 to 17th?

Argh! What a roller coaster!

The last interesting game I didn’t win was in my last round of Legacy against Brian Braun-Duin.

I got the first game with the Breakfast combo when he made what was actually an awesome play. I had gotten Batterskull with Stoneforge Mystic and passed the turn. I went to use the Mystic at the end of his, and he replied by jamming me with Vendilion Clique (tapping out) and moving the Batterskull.

The Clique drew me into Cephalid Illusionist and the top of my deck Nomads en-Kor. Ting!

In the second game I was a mile ahead for most of the game, and I got Brian down to what I assumed was a lethal attack. I’d played a turn 2 Jitte but he had the Force, which led to an awkward situation of me having to name Umezawa’s Jitte with my first Meddling Mage (in order to avoid his just playing it, equipping his Mystic, and demolishing me).

Anyway, Swords to Plowshares, Murderous Redcap, and lots of two-for-ones in general had me with a board of two 2/2s, a Mystic, a Sword of Body and Mind, and an active Batterskull.

Brian had a Batterskull but equipped with Jitte. He had a card, but I knew it was a Surgical Extraction (irrelevant in the position at hand).

I mistakenly equipped my Stoneforge Mystic (the smallest) and sent the team.

Brian apparently knew that lifelink doesn’t wait until the end of combat to calculate (oops). The live Jitte and still-living 4/4 made long, tedious, work of my team. We ran out of time, so I scooped to Brian to go have the lady cop misadventure described at the very beginning (though with the original intention of making it home in time for Mad Men).

What could I have done differently?

Though his Batterskull made a lethal attack difficult that turn, I think my chances of winning the game went up a ton if I equipped Batterskull. Stoneforge Mystic was actually the worst creature to equip, as it was the only one the Batterskull + Jitte could eat without dying. Either Redcap or Meddling Mage would trade even if he got Jitte counters, but if I equipped the Batterskull he was almost obligated to Jitte down my now-damaged biggest guy and couldn’t really let me have the Wolf.

Either of the 2/2 bodies was better than the Mystic, though.

The last thing Patrick asked me to talk about is, “How player who can’t practice DI can actually go about training themselves to play tight in tournaments.”

I think most good players will find the right play if given sufficient time + the focus to look for it. What we really want is to give ourselves the best opportunity to make the best decisions the largest percent of the time, which means either being familiar with difficult decisions ahead of time or doing what we can to maintain focus if we have to puzzle through ourselves. Practice is one way (this situation has come up in the past, how did I deal with it in the past, and what was the outcome), but another is managing clear-headedness.

There are two large-scale (and relatively easy to manage) applications I can see here, and we can glean them from my two most dramatic losses:

1. Emotional Control — I’m of the belief that life is worth living primarily as an opportunity to experience high quality emotions. We move to build, earn, and otherwise accomplish things not just for the value they provide but because the process of doing so is self-actualizing; we get to feel things like pride, satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment, or contribution. Tilt and steam (or even the lapse in reality control I experienced in the Breakfast match against Zack) result when we allow circumstances to dictate our emotional states rather than dictating them ourselves. This may seem odd to some of you, but I try to resist the idea of having emotional reactions to events, rather trying to determine the “inputs” of my experience then reaping the emotional rewards. There are lots of exercises you can do to get better control of your base emotional state, and the most successful athletes tend to be unfazed by outcomes, good or bad (John Wooden used to say he didn’t want an onlooker to be able to tell if his teams had won or lost by how they acted at the end of a game). The applications to Magic, in particular in avoiding the sub-optimal decisions associated with tilt, should be obvious.
2. Operations/Supply – If I’d been more on the ball with my IRL tournament prep, I would’ve undoubtedly had a couple of four-packs of Sugar-Free Red Bull, my own water supply, and more snacks going into the late part of Saturday. Typically, playing in New York, there’s ample shopping around tournament sites; I just got lazy in Baltimore. Master Sun would’ve scolded me for not knowing the terrain, and with good reason. I don’t know how reliant you are on stuff like this, but when you’re 36 trying to compete with super sharp, often chemically enhanced players 10+ years younger than you are, you often need a cuppa joe circa round 7 just to stay alive.

The last bad play…

Really, we should’ve just written down the name and the address of our parking lot.

Because really, we were lucky to get out of there alive.

LOVE
MIKE