Is there some kind of Alcoholics Anonymous for Magic lingo?
It’s become a problem. I thought I could keep it under control, and would chuckle under my breath when a friend of mine subconsciously slipped a “DI” into a phone conversation with her boyfriend, or when (returning home for Father’s Day) my Dad asked me if I had “mised savagely” at the PTQ the preceding weekend (I had not). But I realized I’d hit rock bottom when yesterday I described a loaf of Hawaiian bread as “unreal.”
Let’s be clear for just a second. There is nothing on Earth that is more real than a loaf of bread. Nothing. Timbaland and Genuwine may think they “keep it real,” but they’ve got nothing on some Kings Hawaiian. It has been a staple of the human diet for millennia, and it’s a fair bet that random aborigines know just as much about how to bake it as I do. Furthermore, the object itself is firmly anchored in reality. It’s not liquefying and phasing all over the place like some sort of schizophrenic Trespasser I-Vec. Like George Bush in the White House, it Just. Sits. There.
I bet you could make a drinking game out of this.
There are other offenders. “Retarded gas” is a hot one, because I guarantee you independent of a particular context there is no way to know whether you’re trying to say that something’s good or bad. Actually, I don’t even know what indicates that you’re trying to form a value judgment at all. Can gas even be retarded? If so, what elements of the gas would you have to retard for it to be considered “retarded,” and not merely “flawed?” My other favorite is “SOOOOOOOOOOO Good.” I have taken to asking “how good?” after anyone says this, no matter the context. What’s tight is when they keep responding “SOOOOOOOOO Good” every time you ask. That doesn’t get you weird looks at restaurants at all.
((Cue Seinfeld sound byte—“What IS the DEAL?))
So, Two-Headed Giant.
Richard and I ran the PTQ equivalent of a Craig Jones (4-0, 0-3) last week in Louisville, losing to a) a team that showed up six and a half minutes late for the round, b) Ervin and Sam (who went on to win the event – grats, guys!), and c) a bunch of face-down creatures. Despite the fact that we won every game when we won the die roll and lost every game that we didn’t, I think the format’s extremely healthy. All of the good teams seem to be winning events, and it does seem like every time someone makes a mistake they end up losing the game because of it. Strategy is also extremely important; Richard and I won our second match because we realized we’d have to face-up a Coral Trickster on turn 2 to make our Veiling Oddity very likely lethal on turn 7.
That said, why on Earth does the playing team’s B-seat get to draw a card? At thirty life, it’s unreal AlJSJDIERMCFSDOJWIE OPUIDSJDF ahem to be able to have initiative in basically every combat phase from turn 3 onward. Why make it even better by placing the playing team ahead on cards from the outset of the game*? It makes even less sense than the card Flash working the way it does in Legacy right now**.
I think I’ve played enough 2HG to come up with some sound theory about the format. I can’t guarantee that I’ll express it coherently – but hey, threadbare philosophy coupled with poor presentation worked for Ayn Rand, so I might just be in good company***. I also don’t have cute-yet-meaningless-and-undefined terms that I can attach to every concept I mention, so pardon me in advance if the subject matter isn’t arcane enough to qualify as “classic Magic theory.” If you’d like, just pretend I referenced three or four players or deck designers that haven’t turned a land sideways since the Backstreet Boys were popular, and I’m sure you’ll be satisfied****. Brian Davis Truc Bui Trevor Blackwell Jay Elarar. Man, you don’t even have to pretend!
So here is the thing about 2HG: creatures don’t actually matter. Well, okay, that’s an oversimplification – sort of. The exact text on creatures doesn’t actually matter because they fall into two important categories: ones that are relevant to the board, and ones that are not. Every single relevant creature is going to either a) get killed or b) probably win you the game if it doesn’t. A creature is relevant if your opponent cares that exists – or, more specifically, has to take actions that he wouldn’t otherwise take in order to accommodate the board presence of this creature. If your opponent has a 2/4, then Coal Stoker’s 3/3 body is not going to be relevant, because the opponent doesn’t have to actively do anything about the creature.
Obviously, in an ideal world (Ayn Rand again) you’d want your decks to be filled entirely with creatures that are going to be relevant all of the time, but unless you open Joshua X Claytor’s sealed deck from this past weekend in Louisville, that’s not going to happen. Ergo, you’re going to want to play creatures that are likely to be relevant in common board positions.
What this essentially means is that, of course, Dragons are good, but there’s really not all that much differentiating a Dragon from, say, a Pouncing Wurm or even a Durkwood Baloth. Similarly, Jaya Ballard, Serendib Sorcerer, and Urborg Syphon-Mage aren’t all that different from Prodigal Pyromancer or Saltfield Recluse. There’s simply exponentially more removal in a 2HG game – both because players can generally play all the removal they see, and because between two players’ hands there’s a much greater chance that the removal they do have access to actually kills the problem creature.
By extension, then, removal spells are at an absolute premium even beyond how good they normally are. That’s not really useful, though, because removal is always insanely good.
We can learn something from why removal, particularly instant-speed removal, is so good, though. This is that part of this article that’s most difficult for me to articulate, so I might belabor the point extensively just to try and get enough of it through.
In 2HG, there is going to be infinitely more interaction between the two sides than in a normal dual. With every possibility of interaction comes the possibility to gain advantage, because of the information that you have access to that your opponents don’t. This is true in a dual, but is much more important in 2HG because of the exponentially greater amount of factors that both sides must take into account – and the exponentially greater potential for a blowout. Because of this, all things being equal, you want to have mana untapped as often as you possibly can. This increases your potential for interaction at every stage of the game – and by definition, then, the potential for you to gain advantage. Everybody who has ever played a single game of the format knows how impossibly complex combat is when both of the defending players have three or four mana open and three or four cards in hand. There are so many things that could go wrong that most attacks become unreasonable. Furthermore, it’s not as if you’re being paranoid and blowing yourself out by worrying about phantom threats; with two players across from you, it’s pretty likely that one of them has something relevant to cast.
That’s the problem with a giant dumb creature: when you cast it, you have to cede initiative to your opponents. It’s not like Jedit or Numot or Avatar of Woe are bad cards; it’s just that they make you lay your balls on the table, so to speak. You’re giving up your ability to interact for a turn and letting your opponents do what they will to you. Of course, your teammate hasn’t gone off and joined the Hare Krishnas, but depending on what’s in her hand or what her board position looks like, she may not be able to do anything about what’s going to happen to you / your guys.
So, you want to play cards that don’t force you to cede initiative. You also want to play cards that minimize the opponent’s ability to interact with you. Great. How do you do that?
The first lesson is that bomb spells are even more insane. Everything that has some sort of mass effect is even better than it usually is – again, because you and your teammate can strategize around that card for the entire game, whereas conversely against your opponents it’ll be two times the blowout. Combat tricks that can target either player’s creatures, too, are even more ridiculous, because unlike in a dual it’s rare that you’ll encounter a situation where the card is just completely dead. Note that I don’t think Fortify or even Tromp are nearly as good as they are in duals, precisely because you have to deal with four times the amount of complexity on the board than in a dual, but only get a dual’s worth of effect out of the spell.
The second is that Morph creatures are so good because they solve two problems at once. For one, they allow you access to hidden information that, by definition, makes it possible to outplay your opponents. Again, this is possible in a dual, but the myriad possible interactions make the number of bad outcomes for your opponent increase, and the number of factors they have to calculate into their decisions even greater. Also, because they’re face-down 2/2s, it’s impossible for your opponent to tell if the Morph creature falls into the relevant or irrelevant category until it’s too late. This is why sometimes even creatures that are extremely likely to cause your opponent any concern – Coral Trickster or Aquamorph Entity – are nevertheless the best cards to put into a deck.
Finally, many cards that are considered investments in a dual are actually insane in 2HG because they do not require you to cede any initiative – they have the potential to do something the turn you cast them. If you’re dropping Magus of the Arena on the table, insane as he is there is no way he is doing anything relevant for you the turn you spend that six mana. By contrast, if you Careful Consideration your teammate, rather than have to wait a turn for those cards to come online like you do in a dual, he instead has access to all of those cards right now. He may not be able to deploy them all at once, sure, but it is capable of increasing the number of options at his fingertips.
Having said all of that, I want to look at some cards that might only be considered average in a regular draft that are positively ridiculous in this format. Note that I am not going to be covering obvious things like Storm, because I’m hoping you know all of that already.
Chameleon Blur
In duals, Fogs aren’t that good because they rarely win you the game. Moreover, it’s pretty easy to see in a dual if someone is telegraphing a spell like this, because it’s extremely awkward to keep four mana open at all times. By contrast, it’s not nearly as suspicious for one of two players to keep that much mana open, and the Blur will likely be killing twice the number of guys, preventing twice the amount of damage, and offering the potential for twice the amount of damage on the counterattack.
Avoid Fate / Rebuff the Wicked
Spending one mana on anything is extremely tight, because it allows you to spend most of your mana on a threat while still retaining the potential for interaction. Moreover, if a creature is important enough for your opponent to spend a removal spell on in this format, keeping it alive is probably going to be several kinds of ridiculous. Again, all these principles are true to an extent in a dual, but the reason these cards are unplayable in that context yet insane in 2HG is because there will always be targets for them in 2HG.
Cradle to Grave / Mana Tithe
Mana Tithe will always connect with something, and it’s one of the few ways to keep pace with a fast start on the draw. Cradle to Grave fits the plan of sitting back with mana untapped on the opponent’s turn waiting for the best possible time to interact with them, and unlike in a dual you don’t lose much by ceding your main phase plays to keep mana open because your teammate can still cast permanents.
Fool’s Demise
Wow, what a bomb. In a dual, you Time Walk yourself to cast this and give your opponent an entire turn to prepare. In 2HG, you wait until your teammate can cast removal immediately, and you begin the process of Treachery-ing ridiculous creatures for the remainder of the game.
Traitor’s Clutch
Any time you enter combat, you’re pretty much letting the defending player have her way with your creatures. Sure, you may have tricks, but it’s equally likely that the opponent has tricks, and then what have you accomplished? Clutch lets you circumvent that phase entirely, and there’ll always be giant Green fatties to cast it on. There are giant board stalls in basically every 2HG game – unlike in most dual situations – making the card exponentially more effective in that setting. Also, I can’t tell you how many Cradle to the Graves and Premature Burials I have Counterspelled with this card – again, the advantage of keeping as much mana untapped as possible.
Dust Elemental
Well, Flash in general goes up tremendously in value, because it allows you to maximize the opportunity for interaction until the last possible moment, and doesn’t give your opponent a main phase with which to deal with your guys. The Elemental, in addition to being gargantuan, can of course save a guy from a removal spell, deal with a Sulfurous Blast, etc. – but what makes him particularly good is that it’s fairly likely that you’ll have a few irrelevant creatures on the table that aren’t doing anything, and so picking them back up won’t hurt you all that much. Now, I know this seems counterintuitive, because I’m saying “he’s good because some of your guys will be bad,” and the obvious solution is to play fewer bad guys so you don’t have that problem. The thing is that you usually don’t have the luxury of choosing to play with more good creatures. That’s kind of a priority, but despite your best efforts, sometimes you are stuck with some random 3/3s and 0/5s.
There are a few other specific cards as well that go way up in value, but I’m sure y’all will be able to figure them out if you apply these same principles.
The season’s almost over, but there are still a few qualifiers left. I’ll be in Atlanta with Cody on the 12th, so I hope to see some of you there. For everyone else – good luck!
Zac
* What this means is that whoever is on the play never has to play “catch-up,” because he’ll either be half a card ahead or half a card behind (all things being equal) at all times, removing even the illusion of an incentive to draw first.
** I don’t understand the detractors of that deck. “It has 12 dead slots.” Sure it does. It also has a 2 mana, 2-card kill at instant speed that is wicked easy to protect. Something needs to be done about it.
*** I know I’m going to have to defend this sentence against some extremely intelligent***** people in the forums, so I just wanted to let y’all know I am gearing up.
**** This is in fact my trying to disguise my own shortcomings by drawing attention to the shortcomings of other people. Just so we’re clear. I do in fact possess the mentality of a lunch-money-thieving playground bully. “I am comfortable with my identity.” That’s what the psychologist told me to say so that I could stop crying myself to sleep.
***** Not being sarcastic for once.