On Saturday night, I had a rough time at my local poker game. A newcomer had arrived, and he looked like easy pickings. He was drunk as a skunk, slurring his speech and absolutely reeking of alcohol. Additionally, he had absolutely no idea how to play either Texas Hold ‘Em or Omaha High (the rotating formats of the game). He literally did not even know the difference between the terms “check” and “call,” and he had no idea how to raise.
Yet I simply could not beat the guy. Time and again he would call me down and show down a better hand. He wasn’t just invincible – he was untouchable. It’s not like he was faking, either; in every hand I didn’t play, he got crushed by the rest of the table, but he was paying them off with my money.
When I left the game, I was pretty angry, until I realized that karma must have been paying me back. After all, earlier that day I had played in my second Vintage tournament, and somehow managed a Top 4 finish out of thirty or so people. This is the story of how that happened.
A Fish Called Mark
In my first Vintage tournament, just a few months before…
[I should stop here to mention that it actually wasn’t my first Vintage tournament ever. After all, I did get started in Beta, so every tournament I played in back in those days was Type 1. However, I quit the game during Tempest Block and sold all of my cards, so I am referring to these being my first Vintage tournaments since I got back in and Vintage became a seriously competitive format.
[Wow, is this digression boring. I gotta stir things up to get more readers. Hey, Mike Long tried to take candy from a baby last week!]
Anyway, In my first-ever Vintage tournament a few months previous, I had played Doomsday combo. I cannot over-emphasize the magnitude of this mistake. It was easy for me to come up with the deck; the problem is that the ease of putting the deck together belies its near-impossibility to play. I thought I was familiar enough with the format just from reading the Vintage articles on Star City – particularly Steve Menendian’s and JP Meyer Doomsday primers – but it was not so. I have never before seen a deck where it was so easy to “lose to self” (i.e., throw away a game). Against Virginia Vintage guru Marc Perez, I managed to lose a game by setting up my Doomsday stack such that I would deck myself with Brainstorm. How humiliating!
I was not going to make the same mistake again. Here’s what I played:
Creatures (15)
Lands (20)
Spells (25)
Thanks to ten-proxy rules and the copious collection of local judge Paul Miller (who was not judging the event; if he was, he would not have loaned them to me), this deck was fairly easy for me to assemble even though I have virtually no cards from before Invasion Block. I did want to try Carl Winter suggestion of Serendib Efreet in the sideboard for the mirror, but I was unable to find any copies. The Scrabbling Claws in the board should probably be Phyrexian Furnace, but I couldn’t find any copies of those either.
(Have you tried our online store? – The Ferrett, gently hinting with the cluestick)
I basically tried to reassemble Adam Chambers‘ deck from the Shooting Stars tournament, but I wanted to replace the underwhelming Gaea’s Skyfolk with the more disruptive Meddling Mage. I also added another Kira to the board, as an answer to cards such as Old Man of the Sea, at the expense of the fourth Umezawa’s Jitte.
I doubt that these changes improved the deck. In theory, you should be able to put Meddling Mage into play pretty easily with Aether Vial, but in practice the Vials don’t turn up that often (or opponents will decide they’re worth a Force of Will) and you can’t trust your lone Tundra to support you in the cases. However, I’m still not a big fan of the Skyfolk. So, it might be worth it to turn those four maindeck slots into the fourth Ninja and three Serendibs.
Even though I doubt my deck was ideal, I would still highly recommend the Fish strategy to people trying to enter Type 1 events. Why? Well…
Standstill is busted.
Before the tournament, some small child asserted that Standstill is an awful card because “It doesn’t help you when you are losing, and you don’t need it when you are winning.” The second half of that statement is patently absurd; although the first half is technically true, it is based upon a misunderstanding. Standstill is, in fact, the whole reason for the existence of the Fish strategy. Once you put the Odyssey enchantment into your deck, you then build the rest of your deck around the ideal board position you want to obtain: you have a threat or two on the board and a pitch counter in hand. Then your opponent will want to break the Standstill to answer your threat, but the Standstill will fill your hand up with more threats and/or pitch counters to stop his answers.
So, yes, Standstill does not help you when you are losing – but if you are losing, it is because the other fifty-six cards in your deck let you down. The purpose of those other fifty-six is to set the game up such that resolving Standstill will give you a huge advantage. More often than not, it does.
Nobody draws the nuts all of the time.
A lot of people complain about Fish because it is an underpowered deck, and as such it does not do absurd things. As I understand it, this is why people originally named the deck by questioning the Fish’s sexual orientation.
First off, this isn’t always true; as you’ll see in the tournament report, I was able to go “land, Mox and/or Black Lotus, insanity” a couple of times on the day. Second, even the heavily-powered decks are not going to draw the nuts every game. They’ll keep some iffy hands, get some bad draws, and make some sketchy plays to open the game. There are few decks in the format as able to punish this tendency as Fish. If your combo-playing opponent draws any less than his turn 1 or turn 2 win, he’ll have to fight through a mountain of disruption to get there, all while facing a steady clock of damage.
(Shouldn’t that be an island of disruption? – The Ferrett)
You’ll see this on a couple of occasions during the tournament report: my opponents might have beaten me with their best draws, but as it turned out, all I had to do was keep the beats coming and Force of Will the right spells, and their draws couldn’t overcome the pressure.
Umezawa’s Jitte is a nice card.
Yessir, that is the kind of secret tech that you can only get here at StarCityGames.com!
But seriously, folks…Prior to Orlove’s and Adam Chambers‘ success with the U/G Fish deck, everything I had read suggested that Fish rolls over to Juggernauts on the other side of the table. With the 5/3s and Mishra’s Workshop being as popular as they are in this area, that was a real problem at one time – but not anymore. The Jitte completely shuts down any Workshop deck that doesn’t resolve (and find a way to protect) its Goblin Welders. This is another one that I learned through playing.
Anyway, on to the tournament report. I didn’t get the exact number of players, but it was five rounds with a cut to top 8. Forty-eight packs of Saviors (or draft sets) would be split amongst the top 4 players.
Round One: Ron, Playing The Fish Mirror
Not much to say here, since we were playing a mirror match of sorts (his sideboard was different, and he had the Skyfolk). In game one, he drew two Jitte – one to destroy the Jitte I played and one to kill me with. In game two, I had a Kira holding his Jitte at bay until he drew his own Kira and Wrathed my squad.
For those of you who don’t play Vintage, take my word for it: losing to Jitte is just as frustrating in Vintage as in any other format.
Round One peeve: Unfamiliarity with the cards.
It didn’t really matter since I was already losing by that point, but at one point I wasted a Basking Rootwalla by attacking into a Mishra’s Factory that got double-pumped. I hadn’t played with the Factory in years and I thought that it, like Blinkmoth Nexus, needed mana to pump (in case you were wondering, my own Factories were proxied). Also, at one point I tried to use a tapped Strip Mine to destroy a land, which would bite me in the butt later.
(Note: my Strip was not a proxy, so in this case I am just a savage idiot who did not read the cards he borrowed.)
Round Two: Tricia, Playing Mono-Red Burn
Again, not much to say. In game one, Chalice of the Void for one shut her Lightning Bolts down. In game two, she played a Howling Mine, which filled my hand with Blue Elemental Blasts for her Kaervek’s Torches (and yes, I did remember to pay the two extra mana).
Round Two peeve: None.
Not much happened, so nothing to report.
Round 3: Sorry, Lost Your Name, Playing Gifts Ungiven Combo
I didn’t see his win condition, but I assumed it was Darksteel Colossus, as he seemed to be running Menendian’s list card-for-card.
In game one, a Chalice of the Void for zero completely shut him down. He finally went for Rebuild when I had lethal damage on the board, but after he dropped a ton of artifact mana and played Time Walk, I Forced, and he scooped up.
Game two went the same way, except his post-Rebuild spell was Yawgmoth’s Will, and I didn’t have a blue card to pitch to my Force, so I scooped up.
In game three, I had a strong start of “Lotus, Land, Mongrel, Standstill”; I even had Force backup for this absurdity, but he didn’t try to counter. When he broke the Standstill, I drew into another Force and another Blue card, so Mongrel and friends went all the way.
Round Three peeve: Shuffling.
Before game three, my opponent crush-shuffled his deck, looking at it the whole time, and presented it to me. It seemed fishy (puns, derf), so I riffle-shuffled, and he got very annoyed with me doing so. Look, folks, I know these are expensive cards – but these are also real tournaments, in which the rules allow me to riffle-shuffle your deck. You should expect that your cards are gonna get shuffled when you show up.
Also, don’t always assume that the cards are going to get destroyed when they get shuffled. I borrowed a Beta Lotus, two Beta Moxen, and a Beta Ancestral Recall from Paul, I riffle-shuffled multiple times every round, and Paul was perfectly happy with the condition in which he got his cards back. It’s possible to follow the rules and be gentle at the same time.
Round Four: Justin, Playing Eternal Witness Oath
Justin had an Oath of Druids deck running cards such as Oxidize, Echoing Truth, and Red Elemental Blast in the main. His only two creatures were Eternal Witnesses, and he had Skullclamp and two Gaea’s Blessings, so I guess his plan was to Oath into infinite Time Walks. He also had Living Wish to dig up a backup win.
In game one, Justin’s draw was pretty bad; either he didn’t draw an Oath, or he couldn’t answer it when I Forced his Oath, I forget. In game two, he drew double Oath, but Tundra allowed me to use one Ray of Revelation to stop them both.
His draw was also unspectacular in this game, as he cast something like three or four Impulses but the only answer he could find was the Spike Feeder he boarded in. I simply waited until he used all of the Spike counters and won with beatdown.
Round Four Peeve: Winning And Crying.
This one is my fault. I was very morose when the pairing was announced, and telling anybody who would listen that I was about to drop from the tournament because Fish just can’t beat Oath. In reality, that’s not quite true; I can’t beat Oath if he can trigger his Oath. In these games, Justin was unlucky enough to get draws that would not allow him to keep an Oath on the table… and then I looked like a giant jerk for all of the crying I did beforehand.
Kids, don’t let this happen to you.
Round Five: Sorry, Your Name Lost Also, Playing Workshop With Juggernaut
He was the only 4-0, and was paired down to me. I pointed out that if he scooped to me, we both made Top 8, but he insisted on playing “just to see.” The games were quick and brutal.
Game one, I won the roll and a turn 1 Chalice for zero stalled him; he eventually got a Juggernaut and Welder, but a Jitte killed them both and he had no further gas. Game two, I was owned by Triskelion, because I forgot to board in Kira. In game three, he was savagely manascrewed and I won without difficulty.
Round Five Peeve: Deck Names.
He complained about riffle-shuffling also…. but I’ve already mentioned that one, so instead I will talk about all these weird deck names running around. Someone asked me what deck my opponent was playing, and I said, “a Workshop deck.” He queried, “Stax, or Workshop aggro?”, and all I could say was, “There’s a difference?”
Why the big obsession with the deck name? People kept calling my deck by Jacob Orlove’s pet name, “Worse Than Fish” (or “Double-you Tee Eff,” which sounds equally silly). In reality, all Fish decks are pretty much the same: small creatures, pitch counters, and Chalice or Null Rod will all be present. There might be some nice tech, such as running a new and different color with your blue, but they’re all Fish.
Same with Workshop decks: some go with a prison, some with Juggernaut, some with Masknaught, but they are all just trying to abuse Workshop; do the names really matter? (Well, yeah, in subtle ways; whether the difference is enough for different nomenclature is arguable, but you do have to shift your play style depending on the Fish build – The Ferrett)
Some Vintage articles are starting to see the light; you hear Menendian talk about “Mana Drain decks” and “Workshop decks” as being the main groups in Vintage, which I think is a good way to look at it. Certainly better than trying to figure out if the deck you just faced is Stax, or Workshop Aggro, or Welder MUD, or The Riddler, or Cerebral Assassin, or…
Top 8: Van playing Food Chain Goblins
Van and I had played before, during Mirrodin Block season. I was playing Affinity, he was playing G/R, and he beat me in games 2 and 3 by boarding in thirteen hate cards. We’ll soon see why that is relevant here.
In game one I won the roll and dropped a Chalice for zero; it turned out that Van had a hasty turn 1 Goblin Lackey hand … with no mana sources except Moxen and Lotus. He didn’t draw any land until it was far too late. Again he boarded a massive amount of cards against me. So he was able to Blast my early Meddling Mages and Artifact Mutation my Jitte, but he didn’t have a way to hate out Wild Mongrel. I foolishly allowed a Lackey to hit me when he had one card in hand; that card turned out to be Siege-Gang Commander. Fortunately, I topdecked Kira, forcing him to Wrath his board just to kill my Mongrel…. then the backup Mongrel I had in hand went all the way.
Top 8 Peeve: Super-Hateful Sideboards.
Twelve cards is 20% of your deck. So, if you board twelve cards for a single matchup, your deck is no longer what it was by a large margin. Sometimes, that’s good – like with the Tooth and Nail decks that board out Tooth and Nail against opponents who will try to deny their mana – but only if you have a plan in mind when you’re doing it.
Van, for example, boarded out Goblin Recruiter in order to bring in his infinite hate. It’s not like I’ve tested this matchup or anything, but it seems like Recruiter would utterly break me, by stacking the deck with more must-counter Goblins than my Force of Wills can handle. A back-breaking Recruiter is one of the Food Chain deck’s winning plans. Removing it for hate, but not changing the deck’s plan, can only make the deck weaker as a result.
Top 4: Sorry, Your Name Lost Also, Playing Workshop With Karn, Silver Golem
I wanted to arrange a four-way split for twelve packs each, so I could money draft. My opponent would have none of that, however, so I offered to drop for some packs (yes, the judge allowed me to make this offer, because the event was unsanctioned). He wouldn’t go for that either, he came to play.
He also came to crush me. I looked okay in game one with a turn 1 Louts into Mongrel, Standstill and Chalice for zero, but eventually he was able to get out a Welder, Weld my Chalice into Lotus, throw down a bunch of Moxen, play Tolarian Academy, and own me with Karn, Silver Golem. I soldiered on by attaching a Jitte to a Ninja and killing his Welder, but when he parlayed Memory Jar into Darksteel Colossus I had to pack it in.
In game two, I had the choice of playing a Mongrel or a Jitte against his nothing on turn 2, and I played the Mongrel. He had a Welder and a Juggernaut on turn 3. I could not play and equip the Jitte to my Mongrel on my turn 3, and I was owned even worse on turn 4 when he went Thirst for Knowledge into Triskelion. I was soon quite dead.
Top 4 Peeve: When Is Vintage Casual And When Isn’t It?
As many others have pointed out, Vintage has a high casual factor. My Round 5 opponent, for example, kept calling his Goblin Welders “Wel-Dar,” which I thought was very funny.
This was a tournament, though, with prizes, judges watching over us, and a sixty-minute time limit in the top 8 rounds. So when game one of the Top 4 took over twenty minutes – including three minutes when my empty-handed opponent topdecked Brainstorm – I called a judge over to watch for slow play. My opponent took offense, especially after I did the stupid “attempt to use a tapped Strip Mine” thing again in game two and he tried to get me a warning. The game ended with quite a bit of acrimony.
This is my central problem with Vintage, and the reason why I’m not so sure that I want to play in the next Richmond Power 9: there are now some serious tournaments with serious prizes – the Power 9 events are REL 3 now – but its roots are in casual play, and always will be. So you get players who become upset when you call a judge on them (as my opponent did) and accuse you of rules-lawyering (which my opponent didn’t do in so many words, but his tone suggested it). Hey, I appealed to my inner casual player by offering the drop; if you don’t take it, then we have to play for real, and by “for real” I mean that rules issues are important.
Hmm…. I just looked up “Vintage issues” and found this fine article by Carl Winter and JP Meyer, in which they spell out many of my same peeves in much more humorous fashion. So, I guess that’s my final lesson from last week’s event: I can’t tell you nearly as much about Vintage as Carl, Steve, JP and guys like them. They do this stuff all the time; I just got lucky in a single tournament.
Until next time, here’s hoping your draft deck has Hikari, Twilight Guardian and three Barrel Down Sokenzan (as Rich “Cartman” Herbert’s deck did in the money draft I missed out on).
This article was written after watching the Washington Nationals lose to the New York Mets on July 4.
mm underscore young at yahoo dot com