Magic Online is a disease. It’s a vile, despicable entity hell-bent on keeping us all paunchy and complacent while robbing us of our energy, creativity, and coherent thought. Tragically, I’m not merely striving for a “delightfully tongue-in-cheek” tone here, although the semblance thereof serves as a nice benefit for me, since I’m sure quite a few of you have a penchant for that sort of nerd-humor. I wish I were kidding. This plight is what passes for a muse nowadays, though, so I’m going to have to embrace it with the very foundation of my being. The result is likely to be an amalgam of disparate and/or disjointed rambling and nonsense. I mean, why should this week be any different?* However, if you saw what I was once capable of, you’d understand my angst. I was…I was…I Was Valedictorian. [Which is funny, since it’s difficult to picture you working that hard. Maybe if we paid you in medals…- Knut, clearly not helping]
I’m far too lazy to save myself. Modo already has it firmly in its clutches, having stolen my motivation with round-the-clock free drafts and instilling in me a false sense of accomplishment with its little numbers in my collection that announce I possess four digital Kokushos or those “Limited” numbers in my profiles that are slightly higher than most people’s. Whoever said it was better to reign in Hell must have been quite the piece of work. Who was that again? Oh, right. The devil. I can’t even perform menial, asinine tasks like exercise, writing passable internet Magic articles, or cleaning the whole twelve square feet of my room anymore. Any ambition to find a job or otherwise improve my life is a thing of the distant past. The easiest way, nay, the only way to solve my problem is to convince everyone else to quit Modo so I can’t play anymore. Another option, I suppose, would be something known in some circles as “jump cuts,” or alternately, “leap slices,” “plummet slashes” or plain old “biiiiig cleaves.”
Now that I’ve fulfilled my obligation to provide an “introduction” while simultaneously making my trademark pathetic excuses for diminishing quality, it’s time to talk about The Invitational, and What It Means to Me.
First off, I would like to thank everyone who voted for me. I truly am grateful, even if I’m not sure I “deserve” it and still assume someone was rigging the ballots somehow. I had misgivings about attempting to Curt** my way into the Invitational, since for one thing it basically makes me a whore, and for another I’d feel really stupid if it didn’t work. Do you have any idea how slimy I felt bothering people and asking them for this pitiful favor? Or writing the “Vote for me, please; I’m desperate” article? Sometimes this detestable technique yields fruitful results though, and this, evidently, was one of those times. I would now like to take a moment to thank individually all the people on my buddy list whose life I ruined with my sales pitch, regardless of whether or not they actually voted for me, Brian Ziegler.
Thanks go out to: Kyle Boddy, Derek McClasky, Tony Chopcinski, Kurt Hahn, Scott McMullen, Takanobu Sato, Brian Ziegler (sigh…and to think I considered wasting time messaging Paul), Ryan Opalk, Brent Heaser, Nate Siftar, Mike Abraham, Allen Jackson, Cedric Phillips, Josh Day, Adam Chambers, Jon Lewis, Eugene Levin, Brian Stroh, Mike Hayner, Noah Weil, Kate Sullivan, Kevin Koppes, Jill Costigan, Alana Burman, and Tim Bulger. I’m sorry I did that to all of you, and I still feel bad about it. I’m not thanking Ben Bleiweiss (the man who could singlehandedly have prevented this entire near-catastrophe) though.
Sometimes, an event will transpire in a man’s life that forever changes him and how he sees the world. Optimists can become pessimists, pessimists can become optimists, and even the coldest of hearts may melt in the glowing radiance of finally obtaining or achieving the one thing that means more than anything else to it. Or is it “him?” Is the antecedent the “heart” itself or does it go all the way back to the “man” from the previous sentence? I certainly haven’t lost my prowess at writing myself into corners. A sheer master of prose, I am.
Either way, for me, that one thing is most certainly not “qualifying for” the Invitational, so it’s business as usual.
This doesn’t mean I’m an ingrate. This doesn’t mean I don’t want to go. It’s a great opportunity, especially considering all the time I’ve spent playing Magic; it was flattering to be invited through popular vote; and I’m sure I’m going to have a lot of fun, even if I’m dreading writing the report afterward, as it’s sure to fall short of people’s lofty expectations.
What “business as usual” does mean is that I’m not going to be all sunshine and gumdrops for the rest of my life because something worked out for me. I don’t remember signing any “sweet disposition for two years” contract, despite what Ted’s interjection in my Pathetic Invitational Plea (TM) may have led you to believe.
I’m not going to stop “playa hatin” on the overrated because I got an Invitational slot. If Ted says his adopted son “the Star Wars Kid” has broken a format when in actuality all he’s done is swapped 4-5 cards into a pre-existing archetype, I’m gonna call him out on it. If anyone says anything nice about one of my colleagues in any realm, I’m still going to scoff or snort, as appropriate. If people gush about The Postal Service, or in the case of my household, the aberration known as “Happy Hardcore”…well, I think you get the point. I worked very hard for many years to earn my title of “Most Diabolical Hater This Side of the Mississippi,” and I’m not about to throw this distinction away on a whim.
I’m not going to snap out of my near-suicidal depression because I got an Invitational slot. That’s a dysfunctional pattern of thinking ingrained into my being, and it would probably still be present if I won the Mega Millions Jackpot. I would get counseling, but
1) after having been on the “inside,” I have my doubts about the healing powers of anything but good old-fashioned drugs and
2) there’s no time, since I just opened a Kiki-Jiki, Mirror Breaker.
I’m no Morgan Douglass. That man transcends “prolific.” But if you’re playing a solid three colors featuring Venerable Kumo, Kashi-Tribe Warriors, Sokenzan Bruiser, Kumano’s Pupils, and 2 Villainous Ogres, and I get draws so atrocious with my passable deck (i.e. keeping a 2-lander with four castable spells then topdecking land #3 on literally turn 9) that you manage to defeat me, and you say “gg” as you cast the lethal Strength of Cedars on the aforementioned Kashi-Tribe Warriors, and you think I’m not disconnecting on you just because I got an Invitational slot, it might be time to stop putting off that Down Syndrome screening.
Truth be told, I rarely disconnect on my opponents, unlike, say, Morgy. I’ve done it only a handful of times, and in each case, either my opponent was a horrifying, abrasive troglodyte who had it coming, or I realized that I was being childish for being upset at a loss, rejoined the game, and conceded. As I mentioned alllll the way back in the previous paragraph, Morgan is an artist. It’s a life-affirming experience to watch him work. Recently, I beat him in the first round of a Champions Block Constructed 8-man, and when his defeat seemed imminent, he disconnected from Modo. Then, with around 10 minutes left on his clock, he rejoined the game, clicked okay, then disconnected once again, leaving me to wait the longest possible time. All this despite the fact that we’re on friendly terms. You really have to respect that degree of steadfastness.
I hope the three-color-special-strength-of-cedars-gg-durf-durf guy voted for me so I can feel like even more of a dirty, undeserving, sellout hypocrite than I already do. I truly make a fine “ambassador to the game.”
Hi, I’m Tim Aten, Internet Magic Personality, and this week I’ll be talking about Magic etiquette.
Wasn’t that funny? Oh, sweet irony. What I’ll really be discussing this week, as I’m sure you discerned from whatever lame title Ted gave this article and/or the intro, is…more about building Sealed decks. Next week, once I synch up with Noah Weil, we will be writing a dual draft walkthrough article. So as not to disappoint you, the week after that, I will have a valid excuse for forestalling the “How to Play a Land” article for at least another seven days. I swear that once May rolls around (at latest), I’ll have stopped writing the same old boring crap.***
Yeah, I said it. Boring crap. I don’t hear anyone disagreein’.
Last week, I was under the mistaken impression that Ted Knutson wanted me to write about Craig Stevenson sealed decks again. Apparently, I could write about anyone’s card pools rather than just regurgitating ones that have already been explored. What this actually meant is that Ted Knutson wanted me to write about how badly Ted Knutson screwed up one of his card pools, since he’s not only a sucker for a name drop that he doesn’t have to add himself, he’s also some sort of masochist. Let’s examine one of Ted Knutson‘s card pools from the Magic Online IPA qualifier sealed deck tournaments. [Some day Tim will be nice to this here editor here and the world will stop turning. Not likely to happen soon though. And to be fair, I screwed the pooch on this sealed build. – Knut, hating el diablico]
White
2 Eight-and-a-Half Tails
Kabuto Moth
Kitsune Blademaster
Harsh Deceiver
Kitsune Healer
Vigilance
Candles’ Glow
Indomitable Will
Moonlit Strider
Takeno’s Cavalry
Kami of Tattered Shoji
Silverstorm Samurai
Blue
Wandering Ones
Soratami Cloudskater
Graceful Adept
River Kaijin
Teller of Tales
Consuming Vortex
Hinder
Lifted by Clouds
Honden of Seeing Winds
Callow Jushi
Kira, Great Glass-Spinner
Walker of Secret Ways
Ninja of the Deep Hours
Phantom Wings
Toils of Night and Day
Ribbons of the Reikai
Black
Nezumi Cutthroat
Nezumi Ronin
Scuttling Death
Soulless Revival
Oni Possession
Rend Spirit
Waking Nightmare
Devouring Greed
Night Dealings
Okiba-Gang Shinobi
Skullmane Baku
Crawling Filth
Blessing of Leeches
Horobi’s Whisper
Three Tragedies
Red
Ember-Fist Zubera
Akki Underminer
Kami of Fire’s Roar
Earthshaker
Desperate Ritual
Stone Rain
Unearthly Blizzard
Uncontrollable Anger
Frostling
Shinka Gatekeeper
Blazing Shoal
First Volley
Ire of Kaminari
Overblaze
Green
Hana Kami
Dripping-Tongue Zubera
Humble Budoka
Burr Grafter
Order of the Sacred Bell
Rootrunner
Commune with Nature
Kodama’s Reach
Joyous Respite
Child of Thorns
Traproot Kami
Budoka Pupil
Sakura-Tribe Springcaller
Scaled Hulk
Mark of Sakiko
Vital Surge
Artifact
No-Dachi
If you’re like most people, the first thing that jumps out at you is the Green. It’s got a lot of solid creatures and a good mana fixer in the form of Kodama’s Reach.
…
…
…
Actually, that’s only if you’re like Ted Knutson.**** I’m sure the first thing you noticed if you’ve ever picked up a piece of cardboard with magical elves and goblins on it before in your life is that you have Two Eight-And-A-Half Tails In Your Deck. To the uneducated, that would be seventeen tails. Seventeen. Most decks I open have three, four tails max. If I ever open the fabled “regular bomb rare + foil bomb rare” card pool, I’m sure to do everything in my power to get those gold expansion symbols into my deck, even if it means playing 30 land.
Here’s how I built the deck this week:
17 Tails
38 other cards
Okay, moving onto the next card pool…
But seriously, folks. I’ll be here all week. 9:00 show completely different from the 7:00 show.
When in doubt, play your bombs. If you have two ridiculous cards in a single color that can win the game all by themselves, regardless of whether it’s two copies of the same card or, say, Fumiko and Kumano, play them. Each player only gets 75 cards to work with, and a lot of these collections of 75 simply roll over and die to certain cards. There’s no need to play fair, assuming you actually want to win and aren’t some sort of crazed self-defeatist. As I discuss every single week, most creatures and spells are replaceable. All else equal in the two colors, if your White has a Hundred-Talon Strike, a Kitsune Healer, and a Hikari, and your Green has a Kodama’s Might, an Order of the Sacred Bell, and a Rootrunner, play the White. The Strike is considerably worse than the Might, but it serves as a passable proxy if it means getting to play Hikari. You will win more games on the strength of a 4/4 flier than on the power differential between a +2/+2 card and a +1/+0 and first strike card. If two of the other colors were very deep and very strong, I could see keeping the 17 Tails in the sideboard, but such a card pool would be rather anomalous.
When Ted Knutson laid out the card pool, he didn’t put Kitsune Healer and Harsh Deceiver in the “playable” pile. These are not the optimal cards for their slot in the mana curve, but it’s certainly acceptable to play them as 21st and 22nd cards, particularly if it means being able to play two copies of 8.5 Tails.
The theme of this deck, obviously, is maximizing the awesome potential of the Fox Cleric Legends. That means playing a lot of Plains, which probably means limiting the deck to two colors if at all possible. Thusly, let’s try systematically pairing the White with each other color (besides Red, which is clearly a joke) to see what we come up with.
Green/White
Child of Thorns
Hana Kami
17 Tails
Dripping-Tongue Zubera
Humble Budoka
Kabuto Moth
Kitsune Blademaster
Budoka Pupil
Kitsune Healer
Harsh Deceiver
Moonlit Strider
Burr Grafter
Order of the Sacred Bell
Rootrunner
Sakura-Tribe Springcaller
Kami of Tattered Shoji
Silverstorm Samurai
Scaled Hulk
Commune With Nature
Indomitable Will
Candles’ Glow
No-Dachi
Kodama’s Reach
That’s 24 cards, but there are some evident problems no matter which two cards we cut. First, this deck is comprised almost exclusively of creatures. Even if you have a lot of “utility” creatures that are capable of performing functions other than attacking or blocking, you normally want to keep the deck to around 16 (or maybe 17) creatures, maximum. Even if we cut two men, we’re left with 17 creatures, a creature-searcher, and a land-searcher; this leaves three actual spells, all of which are combat tricks and/or creature enhancers. A second problem is the glut at the 4-mana slot, and a third is that a lot of the creatures are rather “lacking.” Hana Kami isn’t likely to get anything relevant back; Humble Budoka and Dripping-Tongue Zubera are fairly useless; and the majority of the abundant 4+ drops are 9th-pick quality. A probable cut is Kodama’s Reach, since we’d rather play a creature on turn 3 and one of our 800 4-drops on turn 4 than accelerating to the pointless five-mana threshold. Reach does little other than thin lands out of this deck; I would avoid playing it in any deck unless I was splashing, had some higher-end bombs, or was splashing some higher-end bombs.
This deck is poor and light on tricks, but thanks to the 17 Tails, it could still pull out quite a few match wins. One of the other builds is likely to be better, but if that’s not the case, we have something passable to fall back on.
Black/White:
17 Tails
Nezumi Cutthroat
Kabuto Moth
Kitsune Blademaster
Nezumi Ronin
Kitsune Healer
Harsh Deceiver
Moonlit Strider
Okiba-Gang Shinobi
Kami of Tattered Shoji
Scuttling Death
Silverstorm Samurai
Indomitable Will
Candles’ Glow
Soulless Revival
No-Dachi
Rend Spirit
Horobi’s Whisper
Waking Nightmare
Three Tragedies
Here, we only have 21 cards, and two of them are discard spells. Those are okay in moderation, but you don’t want to play too many cards that don’t affect the board in any way. To flesh out this deck, we’d have to play a subpar Devouring Greed, Blessing of Leeches, Skullmane Baku, or Crawling Filth…and that’s in addition to Waking Nightmare, Soulless Revival, and the semi-sketchy White 4-drops. Still, it may be worth trying to force this deck into existence because it has some removal to compliment White’s considerable creature base.
Blue/White
17 Tails
Soratami Cloudskater
Kabuto Moth
Kitsune Blademaster
River Kaijin
Callow Jushi
Kira, Great Glass-Spinner
Ninja of the Deep Hours
Kitsune Healer
Harsh Deceiver
Moonlit Strider
Kami of Tattered Shoji
Teller of Tales
Silverstorm Samurai
Indomitable Will
Candles’ Glow
Consuming Vortex
Phantom Wings
No-Dachi
Hinder
Honden of Seeing Winds
This looks to be the best of the three possible builds; it seems to have everything. There’s a decent curve, a smattering of bombs, some “removal” in the form of Consuming Vortex and Phantom Wings, and some card advantage engines. Its only major drawback is its mana base. We’d ideally want ten Plains and ten Islands to support all the double-colored cards in the deck, but we’re not actually about to play 20 lands. When I said I’d be willing to play 30 lands, that was my little joke for the day. Heh. Heh heh. Nine is definitely the bare minimum for each color, so that’s what we’re forced to play.
Something about this deck somehow rubs me the wrong way, though, and it’s not just the 8.5 Tails/Kira anti-combo. I just have this sinking suspicion that I wouldn’t do well with this deck if I opened it. Is a better build than this possible with this card pool? Anyone? Forums? I find it hard to believe voter fraud wasn’t involved in my Fan Favorite ballot victory considering my typical forum response. I beg and plead for everyone who reads to say anything, since a lot of forum action makes me feel special, like people actually take in the fruits of my labor. Yeah, the fruits are a little rotten nowadays, but it’s gotta be better than starving.
Now, for a change of pace, we’ll examine one of my own card pools. These were the 75 cards I received in the Last Chance Qualifier for the IPA sealed event.
White
Silent-Chant Zubera
Kitsune Blademaster
Pious Kitsune
Harsh Deceiver
Kitsune Healer
Hundred-Talon Kami
Kami of the Palace Fields
Reciprocate
Kami of False Hope
Split-Tail Miko
Genju of the Fields
Hundred-Talon Strike
Mending Hands
Terashi’s Grasp
Blue
Hisoka’s Guard
Student of Elements
River Kaijin
Teller of Tales
Reach Through Mists
Consuming Vortex
Lifted by Clouds
Cut the Tethers
Shimmering Glasskite
Soratami Mindsweeper
Quillmane Baku
Tomorrow, Azami’s Familiar
Phantom Wings
Minamo’s Meddling
Quash
Black
Rag Dealer
Nezumi Ronin
Gibbering Kami
Painwracker Oni
Soulless Revival
Rend Spirit
Devouring Greed
Hideous Laughter
Honden of Night’s Reach
Skullsnatcher
Takenuma Bleeder
Crawling Filth
Stir the Grave
Red
Ember-Fist Zubera
Brothers Yamazaki
Brutal Deceiver
Kami of Fire’s Roar
Sokenzan Bruiser
Desperate Ritual
Stone Rain
Unearthly Blizzard
Blind With Anger
Soulblast
Goblin Cohort
Akki Blizzard-Herder
Akki Raider
Frost Ogre
Ire of Kaminari
Sowing Salt
Torrent of Stone
Green
Orochi Leafcaller
Kami of the Hunt
Matsu-Tribe Decoy
Order of the Sacred Bell
Iname, Life Aspect
Commune With Nature
Kodama’s Reach
Serpent Skin
Petalmane Baku
Isao, Enlightened Bushi
Sakura-Tribe Springcaller
Roar of Jukai
Sosuke’s Summons
Uproot
Artifact
Jade Idol
Shell of the Last Kappa
The White is, to continue to bludgeon the deceased equus of Magic writing cliches, solid if unspectacular. It sure feels dirty to write that, but it’s hard to come up with one’s own terms when there’s something so convenient and fitting to fall back on. Maybe I’ll come up with new terminology when I write my land article. Barhar. Regardless, White has some good cards and some decent cards, but nothing that pulled me strongly in its direction. I was willing to play it if I had to, but it wasn’t the most attractive option.
Blue has a few fliers, a few bounce spells, and a lot of filler, precisely the mix I’ve come to expect from this frail color. Perhaps I should have given more credence to the Student of Elements, given the Phantom Wings and the Lifted by Clouds. Perhaps not. As often seems to be the case, I put the Blue aside, leaving open the possibility of some sort of splash.
The Black, much like the White, seems “S.I.S.” I wouldn’t want to play Rag Dealer ever; I wouldn’t want to play two Raise Dead type spells; I wouldn’t want to play the Painwracker Oni with only one ogre; and I wouldn’t want to play Devouring Greed with, presumably, only a handful of Spirits. There’s a little bit of removal, but once again, not enough to make me really want to play Black. You can’t win with just Skullsnatchers and Nezumi Ronins.
There are several powerful Red cards, complemented by enough solid creatures to make it a viable option. Blind With Anger is a not-quite bomb, while Torrent of Stone kills just about anything. Those combined with Soulblast compelled me to play Red.
I decided to play Green as well, although I’m not entirely sure why at this point. I probably figured that the creatures were solid, and its mana fixers were the only way to make a three-color Soulblast deck come together. In addition, Isao seemed like a “quality creature” for sealed. All told, I built this deck based not on what was lacking in some colors, as they were all playable on some level, but rather what was present. Cards like Soulblast and Soratami Mindsweeper are great stalemate breakers in sealed, a format frequently marked by each combatant’s animals staring at each other until one of them plays a Moth, Dragon, or Jukai Messenger.
My Deck:
Petalmane Baku
Ember-Fist Zubera
Akki Raider
Isao, Enlightened Bushi
Kami of the Hunt
Matsu-Tribe Decoy
Brothers Yamazaki
Brutal Deceiver
Order of the Sacred Bell
Sakura-Tribe Springcaller
Kami of Fire’s Roar
Shimmering Glasskite
Soratami Mindsweeper
Frost Ogre
Iname, Life Aspect
Tomorrow, Azami’s Familiar
Sosuke’s Summons
Serpent Skin
Kodama’s Reach
Torrent of Stone
Blind With Anger
Soulblast
Card Choices:
Petalmane Baku
This probably should have been Orochi Leafcaller. Each card enables some form of mana fixing, but the Leafcaller’s is more reliable. Petalmane Baku triggers Kami of Fire’s Roar and Kami of the Hunt, and can be returned by Iname, whereas the Leafcaller will bring back Sosuke’s Summons, which is more likely to be pertinent. The only real advantage the Baku has, other than being able to survive a First Volley or a Frostwielder activation, is its potential to be a mana accelerant in some rare games. If “stuck” on four lands, the Baku will sometimes enable me to cast a more expensive spell.
Akki Raider
This card is mediocre in Sealed; naturally, I included it to help my mana curve. Whenever an opponent played a Mountain, this guy was easy to cut in favor of Sokenzan Bruiser.
Sakura-Tribe Springcaller
I thought the Springcaller would be mediocre, but his actually the jolliest. He can block nearly anything that costs as much as or less than him without dying, and one can frequently make good use of his free mana. This deck in particular wouldn’t mind seven mana on turn 6, say; its tricks and spells are fairly expensive, so the Springcaller can be integral in enabling me to play both a creature and a Torrent of Stone in the same turn. To top it all off, thanks to the Springcaller, the mighty Iname could hit play as early as turn 5. That’s probably game.
Soratami Mindsweeper
The Mindweeper can both contribute to a board stall and capitalize on it. Once it hits play, in order to damage you in the air, an opponent would need to cast multiple flying attackers with toughness greater than one, not necessarily an easy task.
Soulblast
This card is likely to “steal” a lot of wins. If you attack someone for about eight in the early and mid-game, the Soulblast will often deal the final twelvish points. It puts the proverbial ball of inevitability squarely in your court of, um, magical wonderment.
Tomorrow, Azami’s Familiar
Tomorrow, like Soulblast and Mindweeper, benefits from the slower Sealed format. Because the decks aren’t as aggressive and super-focused, there’s more time for the card selection provided by the Familiar to let you assume control of the game.
Teller of Tales
Obviously, this card is ridiculous. Much of the time, it is in fact better than Uyo, Silent Prophet as postulated by Patrick Sullivan. However, I didn’t want to further weaken an already shaky mana base by the inclusion of a double-Blue spell. It’s possible that I could have taken out a Red card and a Mountain for the Teller and an Island, or maybe just thrown Teller in the deck in place of the weakest card and hoped for the best. If I had played Leafcaller instead of Petalmane, Teller would have been that much easier to “splash.”
Should I have played the Teller? If so, in place of what? Did I completely misbuild the deck? I’m sure these requests are, as usual, falling on deaf ears. Nevertheless, try to remember that I’m not infallible, and if someone berates you for criticizing me, that person is probably very mean and/or my dad incognito. I said Dampen was unplayable, remember?
Of course you don’t remember.
No one remembers.
No one likes me.
How did I get into the Invitational again?
Oh yeah. Computer fraud. Or so I assume.
Join me next week as I drink lots of Cherry Coke and pass out at 7am after watching fifteen hours’ worth of Oz. [Dear God, the dreams that would result from that combo. At what point does Chambers start to look a whole lot like Adebisi? – Knut, wondering if anyone else thinks these things] That’s the only promise I’m sure I can keep, unless you allow me to redefine the word “week” to mean “period of time lasting between 5 days and a month.”
Tim Aten
1981-2012
a.k.a. Mr. Blindside
Blah Blah Et Cetera
(Not EXcetera, you cretins)
INV_TimAten on Modo tee hee
Possessed Aten on AIM (I’ll block you so fast..)
[email protected] (so very lonely)
“You disappoint me. Maybe you’re better off this way.”
Post Sign-off Bonus: The Half-Assed, Two-Thirds Complete Making Fun of Team Names Thing I Always Do
$mir – Nice dollar sign. I don’t care what country you’re from; putting a dollar sign in a team name couldn’t possibly make any sense whatsoever. You know the episode of Celebrity Jeopardy? Same basic deal. I asked Andre Mueller about the origins of his team name, and apparently it has something to do with sponsorship. However, I’m not sure what information could be gleaned about any store from three random letters and a random symbol. There’s no URL or other information about the store, and as Mueller said, Americans probably couldn’t access the website anyway. In short, a job well done on the team name front. I would like to point out that Mueller’s teammates, Daniel “Sebastien” Zink and Hans Joachim Hoeh are probably the two most evil human beings alive. Zink tried to get Gadiel a match loss for “marked” Pus Kami/Horobi’s Whisper/two basic lands, but the judge informed him that he wasn’t going to do anything since Zink had already won 2-0. To his credit, Hans Joachim Hoeh made Pelcak cry. I hadn’t seen Pelcak cry since they cancelled Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and it’s not something I like to see. If you are ever unfortunate enough to come across these Germans at a tournament, please spit on them for me. I’m sure Jesus will look the other way.
:B – Oh, hey, it’s a little face. Yeah, cute. The best part, though, is how it’s really annoying for judges to announce. Is it “colon bee”? Is it “little face”? Who knows, who cares. After a very good run, we finally failed to convert, and now this team name disgusts me. Before the event, I was thinking about changing it to Taking Back Sunday, but, in the event of a poor performance, I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with crap from superstitious people who would suggest that the name swap was responsible. Regardless, using little symbols to “break the format” in team naming is passe. If you do it, you will get a big fat F.
152 Snow Ninjas – Well…if it isn’t our good friend Mr. Random Number. See, part of the reason this name is so great is that there’s actually only THREE of them…not really anywhere near 152! Where are the rest of them? Are they hiding in the snow? Ooh, those sneaky ninjas!!
Albuquerque Isotopes – Since I trust Kevin Pettinger’s judgment, I’m sure there’s a good story behind this team name. It also “sounds like a team.”
Amigos del Cole – Cole chupa, y sus amigos chupan tambien.
Big Decks – All the members of this team, ostensibly, enjoy another format as well as Team Sealed. I certainly feel more spiritually enriched for having that information. I shudder when I consider the probability that these doofuses thought this name also doubled as a clever sexual quasi-innuendo. People have said it before, and they’ll say it again: It’s both logical and fortunate that gamers seldom reproduce.
Big-Tyming w/ A.DeRosa – I get a kick out of this name because whenever I hear it, I get these half-images in my brain of Ant “Big-Tyming,” whatever that may be. It’s hard to express what I mean, so just try this for yourself…
1) Picture Antonino in your mind. I prefer to have him clothed, but, y’know, whatever floats your boat.
2) Now picture him in the act of simply “Big-Tyming.” For me, this usually involves him wearing gold chains and doing a little dance. If your image is anywhere near as rebonk as mine, you’ll know why I appreciate this moniker even if it has a member’s name in it.
BLACK Generation Take 2 – Yes! Everything I could possibly hope for in a Japanese team name. Why is BLACK all capitalized? What the heck could this team name possibly mean? I’m sure they think it sounds pretty cool and sinister, but to me, it’s nothing short of sheer mastery. I give this squad an enthusiastic A.
Bmh – The members’ first initials. This is getting really tiresome. It’s actually even worse than “Team Couldn’t Come Up With a Team Name” for people who couldn’t come up with a team name or “Last Minute” for a squad that came together at the last minute. Are you trying to make the worst possible team name? Well, congratulations; you’ve succeeded admirably.
Care Bear Stare – Yeah, sure, it rhymes and all. However, I’m not feeling particularly generous today, so it’s going to take a little more than that to catch my eye. The Care Bears are slightly too oft-referenced a bit of eighties nostalgia nowadays for my tastes. If they sell products bearing its likeness at Hot Topic, it’s no longer counterculture.
Chris Jarmak – Here’s a thought. Let’s just open the DCI database to page 17 and write the first name we see down as our team name. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Yes, this will truly go down in history with Luke Weaver and Kenneth Churchill as one of the awesomest team names that ever awesomed. On a scale of 1 to 1,000,000, where 1 is Bmh and 1,000,000 is the Max Fischer Players, I give this name a 4.
CMA Darmstadt V1.30 – Whoa, whoa, whoa…how did these guys get visas?
Corbett & Sons – One of them looks a lot older than the other, so wouldn’t it be funny if they somehow mentioned that in their team name? The biggest strike against this name is actually that it bears too strong a resemblance to the dreaded “Two ______s and a _______” format.
Cosmopolis – Google turned up that this is a book of some sort. I can’t say I care for it as a team name. Sounds too much like a drink Ken Krouner would order.
Dar Fluggen Taggen – You kids are American, right? Then act like it. Go upstairs right now, take off the black turtlenecks, put on some Maroon 5, drink some Gatorade, maybe start a war with an innocent country, and come back down when you’re ready to speak English.
Dave’s the Boss – Complete sentence that references a team member. Boring, unoriginal, painfully obvious pop culture reference. Maybe this name would be acceptable if, every time it appeared, there was a link to Little Darwin’s story about Dave’s 21-Land limited deck, but as it is, I’m left feeling unfulfilled. I expect more from Rietzl, but unfortunately, I suspect he’s lost the will to succeed at anything. Masahiko Morita really crushed his spirits for good, I think.
Desperate Ritual Seething So… – and there it cuts off. Apparently an even remotely passable team name costs far more than five red mana.
Eight and a Half Dales – Look, man. I see what you were trying for here. This is a play on that awesome little fox legend from Champions of Kamigawa. You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you can just change one word of an already existing name or phrase and, in so doing, create cleverness out of thin air. To put it in perspective, ask yourself if any of these names sound remotely intelligent:
“Meal of Fortune”
“Kleenix Foundation”
“Reinhard Blech”
“Harold and Kumar Go to Mike Castle”
That’s what this team name is. It’s Harold and Kumar Go to Mike Castle. Embarrassing.
Eteliose – Man. I searched this one on Google, and apparently it’s something in Greek. However, it’s not REAL Greek since it’s not in Greek characters, so it took more effort than I was willing to put in to find out what it means. Nonetheless, NotFfej was on this team, and they were parading around the tournament site in soccer jerseys complete with a soccer ball (not kidding), so I’ll just assume whatever it is is too asinine for words.
FBI – This falls under the category of “stuff that sounds a lot cooler to the Japanese than it does to us.” I like stuff like that, but at least one other team did it better, so I can’t put this in with the “Winners.” Plus, it might not stand for Federal Bureau of Investigations, but rather Fusashi Bi Iyami or God knows what, and as I said, I’m not willing to give the benefit of doubt. And I apologize if I accidentally cussed in Japanese just now.
FireBall.Pros – This is probably some sort of boring sponsorship sort of deal. What is it with people from other countries and their excessive use of the period? Like the dude on Modo, TeamRatpack.Trade? Why is it Team Ratpack Dot Trade? Is that a symbol that somehow translates the whole phrase to “The Account Which Team Ratpack Members Use to Trade”? Don’t try to squeeze more utility out of these symbols than the good lord intended. It reminds me of when, the other day, Taka messaged me a few lines of Japanese in all caps. It turned out it was just song lyrics as he had initially claimed, but when I tried to search the words up one by one in a Japanese to English dictionary, I was flabbergasted. The word “ni” could mean, depending on context, “baggage or cargo,” “takes after (as his mother),” “red or red earth” or the number “two.” Foreigners are way smarter than we are if they can keep track of all this mumbo jumbo.
Free Yayo – I don’t catch the reference, but I don’t like the “Free _____” format (I think one team once used “Free Nick Eisel“), and quite frankly, I don’t like the “Baby-Faced Assassin.” Your act was fine when you were 12, but it’s just not cute anymore now that you have a mustache. I will say this, though. Zach Parker has a loyal following of barns that rivals even Dan Cato’s or Gerry Thompson. I did a money draft with Chambers and the BFA, and no less than half a dozen cronies were present to laugh at anything Parker said, offer random praise or anecdotes in an attempt to garner favor, and if the BFA were interested, probably fetch a cool, refreshing beverage at the drop of a hat. Not that he needed any more beverages by that point in the night.
Frisørlandslaget – It has one of those crazy crossed out zeroes in it. I ain’t touchin’ it.
Gatas Brilhantes – The English translation of this name would be the shiny cats, or the colorful cats, or somesuch. It gets a slight boost for being the feminine “gatas” instead of “gatos.” What really pushes this into the realm of greatness is the fact that this isn’t a Portuguese team; it’s a Japanese one. How they opted for this name and, at the same time, this language, is well beyond the realm of my understanding. No wonder the man won a Pro Tour.
Gee Squared – Two of their team members are named Guillaume, and when you really break it down, is this name actually one whit better than “Two G’s and a J” or “Hey, We Have Two Guys Whose Names Start With G On Our Team”? The answer is yes. It is exactly one whit better. Not quite a skosh.
GG Unit – I gave this team a begrudging thumbs-up in my Washington D.C. report, and in the forums, Rosholm lauded it as the best name in the tournament. I’m going to have to shed my skepticism and side with Rosholm. I wouldn’t say it’s the very best name, but it’s easily in the top 5. Pop culture reference + gamer-related phrase + style points = mastery.
Rosholmarfartillallabarns – Okay, the Rosholm part I understand, and the barns part, sure, but can we lose the other crap? “Arfartillalla?” This is not to say, however, that “Rosholm’s Barns” on its own is a good team name. I just think these guys outthought themselves and their team name ended up sounding a little contrived. Incidentally, this name is out of place alphabetically; perhaps they tried to be GG Unit before realizing the name was already taken.
GWalls Soaking Wet – I’m proud to say that was the catalyst in naming this team. I noticed that Pat Sullivan’s team is actually comprised of three of the scrawniest people on the Pro Tour – Sullivan, Adam Horvath, and Eugene Harvey – and suggested that they name themselves after something the three of them combined weigh roughly as much as. Sullivan apparently thought this was a good basis for a team name, and he came up with GWalls Soaking Wet. According to Pat, another name they considered was Ken Krouner Wearing Shoes.
He’s Not Our Dad – That Is a Complete Sentence. I like the concept behind the name considering the members (all of whom I like a lot), but their particular name is somewhat lacking in style. If I approved of complete sentence team names, and if there weren’t a de facto length limit to consider, I’d name this team “SOME CRAZY OLD GUY KIDNAPPED US AND MADE US PLAY MAGIC WITH HIM!!! SEND HELP!!!” Then, the opponents would look at the match result slip, then up at Alana, Star Wars Kid, and EDT, and hopefully wonder whether the name was serious.
His Grumpy – G-R-U!! M-P-Y!! Rich ain’t got no alibi, his grumpy! This name was borne from AIM conversations with Takanobu Sato, one of the members of the team. For those not in the know, Taka is completely obsessed with Rich Hoaen, and he’s taken to making up factoids about the Canadian Limited expert. For more information, please see my Betrayers White review, specifically the Heart of Light entry and the “post-signoff bonus.”
I Blame Bung – Hey, now. It’s not Bung’s fault you still couldn’t come up with anything remotely resembling a non-wretched team name and/or win a single match. You guys had your breakout weekend two years ago where you got 13th or whatever, but it’s time to give up the dream and stay home. Tough break, fellas.
Kleenix Foundation – Harold. And Kumar. Go. To. Mike. Castle.
Lab Who – Lab Who Cares is more like it, right fellas?
Last Minute – Say, fellas, when did you guys get together? Oh, it’s right in the team name. Silly me.
Ligers – Bred for their skills in Magic. A masterful reference to, tragically, the chic-est of movies, this team name was unfortunately used by Jill and Aaron in a PTQ years ago. Literally years. As to his comment about me being Napoleon Dynamite, I can only retort Efro You Fat Lard. Come Get Some Ham.
LNT Super Dario Bros. – The whole “Super Dario Brothers” thing is cute, but what the Hell is LNT? Anyone?
Mammoth Teikoku – I swear I’m a Sweden barn, not a Japan barn, but I like this one too. I could look up “teikoku,” but I think that would just spoil it for me.
Marc H – Again, naming a team after one random person is pretty passe, with a few exceptions. Here are some acceptable “one person’s name” team names:
-Reinhard Blech (already ran it, sorry)
-Wilco Pinkster
-Douglas Conway
-(mix and match the above)
N.A.I. – I’m running on fumes by now, but I still HAVE to take the time to berate the “initials strategy.” C’mon guys. You’re Japanese. You should know better.
You know what? Screw it. I’m done for this week. Maybe I’ll finish it next week. Maybe I won’t. Cheers either way, mate. Hugs until next time. Baby whoever says buy my dad’s games.
LOVE
TIM.
*Another disease is that of saying “I mean.” I’m not sure whether it’s a NY/NJ thing, but it’s spreading rapidly. I find myself saying it several times per hour, albeit in a Paul Ziegler voice. The two worst offenders concerning this phenomenon, for whatever reason, are Josh Ravitz and Ken Krouner. If you ever find yourself in a conversation with one of them and you hear them say it, start your next sentence with “I mean…” Then, if they start their next sentence with “I mean…” you do it again, and repeat this process until they figure out what’s going on. By this point, you’ll usually end up saying “I mean” with no sentences attached back and forth until one or both of you get sick of it.
**Schilling. Bar-har. Oh, I don’t watch baseball, make no mistake. I pay just enough attention to subjects outside my areas of expertise (i.e. everything but Magic Online and jump cuts) to be able to make pretenses of knowing a lot more than I do. Any time I say anything that makes me appear intelligent, well-read, or otherwise well-versed in a particular subject, it’s probably the one relevant fact I know, used to make you wonder if, in fact, I really do know everything. Coming up with or stealing this technique could be considered a sign of intelligence, in a cunning skulduggerous sort of way, I suppose. I have Rodman fooled at the very least.
***That’s when I’m quitting Magic.
****As if the man’s job wasn’t frustrating and thankless enough, he now has to go through this. He did ask for it, though, literally.