In the end, an 8-2 does indeed make it… But alas, it won’t be me this time. I end up in 11th on tie-breaks, which is still pretty damn good for my first tourney in a year and a half, particularly given the size of the crowd that showed up. Still, if you’re looking for a fantastic tourney report and a good idea of how Wake works, look here!
Regionals was an uncomfortable car ride followed by a big disappointment diced up to lay amidst small flares of occasional fun, the meetings with friends and MODO clan members that were like little pepper granules of merriment amidst the undercooked, salmonella-inducing hamburger patty of defeat. This whole putrid meal was served up with a side order of uncomfortable accommodations and a large Pepsi. No, I didn’t have fun at Regionals, where I saw two weeks of intense study and preparation go down the tubes – but mark my words, I’ll have fun writing about it, or die trying.
Somebody asked me to write about my wolves Tribes deck, curious as to how I had built it. Now, the deck is in constant state of flux – or at least the non-tribal part of it is – so I couldn’t really write about the deck. Furthermore, the non-tribal part is so taste-dependent and highlanderish that I can’t really do a good article about it, since there would be no real strategic reasoning behind the cards I chose for the deck. And yet that will not stop me.
“So you finally lost.”
“Yeah, it was a good run. First match loss in the eighth round is not a bad day. I mean, five, oh, and two is great after seven rounds. That’s top eight in a seven-round PTQ, right?”
“That’s true, man. But you suck. No lies; you really suck at this game, and yet you managed to be in contention for seven rounds. That’s pretty cool.”
At this point, I am sitting at 3-1-1 and feeling pretty good about myself… But of course, we all know that I did not X-0 the rest of the tournament. Locusts would have swarmed the earth, fire would have rained out of the sky, and other bad times would be going on.
It has to be read to be believed. But there is a major revelation for Chris Romeo fans.
Basically, the system is set up to punish the regions that have a more active Magic community. The odds are grim if you competed in the Ohio Valley Regionals; with 674 people brawling for eight slots, you had a measly 1.19% chance to qualify. But fortune smiles on you if you live in the Southwest, where attendance was 213 people, giving you a 3.76% shot at the top 8. Your chances of qualifying go up 315% percent depending on where you live. Is this fair?
There’s this guideline I have when I’m playing Sealed or Draft and I don’t know what to do; it’s kind of a philosophy, really. It helps in Constructed matches, and even in deckbuilding. Furthermore, I know that a lot of players who I have great respect for follow this idea. Curious? I call it The Savage Rule.
Don’t ever let it be said that you can’t go rogue and place highly in a major tournament. If you work hard, test diligently, and learn your deck’s strengths and weaknesses inside and out, you can succeed. It’s definitely easier to play a potent netdeck whose power is already well-documented, but I must say that nothing, I repeat, nothing matches the satisfaction from winning with something original that you’ve incubated for months.
It takes a”special” player to be at 4-0 with a solidly-tested and built rogue deck, and then throw away the next two matches while being up a game in each. Working your ass off for two months, only to be done in by your own poor decision-making skills, is not a pleasant thing to have happen – but it happened to me. This is my story…
My goal that day was a winning record. I knew that I hadn’t playtested enough and would get caught by tricks and sideboards I had not anticipated. I also figured to lose one or two matches to manascrew, since I was running a two-color deck with non-aligned colors and no Birds of Paradise. That about summed up the day: Winning record, lost two matches to my errors, one to mana screw. But along the way, I learned some lessons about Rob Dougherty’s Elvish Succession, some changes in the metagame that have weakened it, and some tricks on playing it properly.
The headline says it all! Meet Ron Spears… artist of Akroma (Angel of Wrath), Phage the Untouchable, Entomb, Astral Slide, Naturalize and many more of your favorite cards… at the following upcoming events…
Friday, May 30 – Sunday, June 1 @ Grand Prix Pittsburgh!
I have slowly come to the realization that I will, in all likeliness, never become the next big thing on the Pro Tour. Yes, there are a few”old timers” on the Pro Tour, such as the inimitable Mike Pustilnik, but I have never been able to reach that”critical mass” point where I had the momentum to carry my skills, such as they are, into lucrative employment as a professional Magic player. For me and all the other Bennie Smiths out there, the two tournaments we really look forward to are States and Regionals. A win at States or a Top 8 at Regionals would be the pinnacle of my competitive Magic career, Pro Tour or no Pro Tour.
When a beginner sees creatures, especially weenies, he usually labels a deck”aggro.” When he sees control elements, especially counterspells, he usually labels it”control.” Aggro-control decks, however, have creatures and counterspells. The problem with misidentifying an archetype, as usual, is consequently not knowing how to play against it, much less sideboard.
The Regionals Tournament reports have been coming fast, and I’m still completely buried. (Alan Meaney’s thirty-page report didn’t help matters, taking up an amazing two and a half hours to edit, though it was about as good as tourney reports get.) As of this point, I still have twenty-six tourney reports to go – and as has been noted before, tourney reports are the hardest single Magic report to edit. (HINT: The next person who sends in any damn article that doesn’t have all of the card names capitalized is going to need a proctologist to remove my sneaker.)
As a result, I’ll try to catch up this weekend, but the reports pour in. I will ask, cheerfully, that unless a) you finished in the Top 32 or b) were running some sort of notably interesting rogue deck, you please refrain from sending in any reports for the time being. It will save me time and effort. Thank you.
Also, thanks to everyone who offered to pinch-hit for me; alas, the time it would take to train you to do it to my retentive standards would take more time than it would to get out from under this flurry of reports. And, God willing, this should only happen twice a year. Message ends.
