Author: Bateman

If somebody were to ask me what my 10 favorite magic cards of all time were right now, my reaction would be in 2 parts.

The first part would be a huge grin, as top 10 lists bring me a great deal of joy. In fact, on my top 10 greatest things of all time list, top 10 lists themselves are ranked at number 6, just behind my favorite sushi restaurant in Seattle, Musashi, and just ahead of hot showers on a cold day.

The second part would be a very lengthy dialogue with whoever asked me the question. So lengthy in fact, that they would probably try and shiv me to get away from the conversation. Even then I imagine I would keep going.

Some of the cards I would certainly list would be ChronozoaChronozoa, Grand ArchitectGrand Architect, Jhoira of the ghituJhoira of the Ghitu, and probably some broken artifact like Memory JarMemory Jar or something. That’s just a quick snapshot, but do you see any similarities between these cards?

You should.

They’re all too cute for their own good.

Aside from obvious things like color, they’re also cards that all require a great deal of steps and complicated interactions with other cards to be any good. Even Memory JarMemory Jar, which is ridiculously powerful, requires you to set it up, so that you don’t spend 5 mana and a turn to just play some random extra cards.

My entire life playing magic i’ve been fascinated by cards like these. I think it comes from wanting to play magic the way I want to play it, rather than the way it’s “supposed” to be played.

Kitchen table magic players will have an easy time relating to this, while tournament players are a bit more focused on playing “the best deck,” or at least the best cards irregardless of creativity. The interesting thing though, is that you can usually find a truly powerful deck that plays very similarly to whatever deck you wanted to play but found out wasn’t good enough to compete with.

I’ll give you an example;

Last winter the featured PTQ format was Modern, so my friends and I spent a great deal of time playing around with modern cards and brainstorming deck ideas for the tournaments. Here’s the list I started with:

Vial Mayor

Maindeck

4x Mayor of Avabruck
4x Aether Vial
4x Spellstutter Sprite
3x Voidmage Prodigy
3x Mothdust Changeling
4x Lightning Bolt
2x Cackling Counterpart
2x Forbidden Alchemy
2x Sword of War and Peace
3x Mana Leak
2x Spell Pierce
1x Disrupting Shoal
2x Vedalken Shackles
1x Mindbreak Trap
4x Mutavault
19 Other Land

Sidboard
Casual brewers Don’t worry about sidebaords. We rarely get that far.

If this list looks totally ridiculous to you that’s because it is. The interactions are very strange and ultimately very very cute and gimmicky.

Firstly, you have 3 relevant creature types here, between Faeries, Humans and Wizards. The Mothdust ChangelingMothdust Changeling’s are there to tie them all together and enable things like Spellstutter SpriteSpellstutter Sprite on turn two, or Mayor on turn two attacking for 2 with the changeling. He’s also there to sacrifice to a Voidmage ProdigyVoidmage Prodigy later in the game.

The heart of the deck is in the ability to play a turn one Aether VialAether Vial, and set up a strong turn 3, with the nut draw being Mayor of AvabruckMayor of Avabruck. Because he’s vialed in instead of being cast, he will flip immediately at the beginning of their upkeep.

The versatility of having Voidmage ProdigyVoidmage Prodigy on the same curve to flash in as a counter spell is pretty awesome too. The Cackling CounterpartCackling Counterparts are there to copy flipped Mayor’s, because if the token is a copy Howlpack AlphaHowlpack Alpha, it won’t ever flip back. It also work nicely with Spellstutter SpriteSpellstutter Sprite as an additional counterspell.

This was the first draft of the deck, and though I tweaked it and tested it extensively, it ended up as just as much of a train wreck as it looks like on paper. However, even now as I recall the deck in all it’s disappointing glory I get excited to try and make it work again!

This is just the sick nature of a casual brewer. We rarely ever let an idea go.

I did end up playing a deck with a similar feel at a PTQ that season, and next week i’m going to compare the 2 decks.

Can you guess what the deck I played was? Let me know in the comments.

Happy 4th of July, and until next time,

Take care and play magic

– Ben

My girlfriend went out of town on Saturday morning, leaving me home alone.

For the entire weekend.

I realize this sounds like the start of one of those movies where tons of partying and bad decisions end up happily ever after, but only after an incredibly efficient cleaning session takes place moments before the front door opens. One of my all time favorite movies is Risky Business, so I briefly considered just what it would take to organize and manage a brothel out of my 3 room duplex for a couple of days, but came to the conclusion that some things just work better in movies.

However, as you might imagine I did play some Magic the Gathering over the weekend.

My local store, Hi De Ho comics in Santa Monica runs a very relaxed legacy tournament every Sunday, but because I normally spend Sundays with my lady, I have never played in it.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with legacy, it’s format that includes cards from every set all the way back to the beginning of magic’s history, making for some very powerful and diverse decks. I’ve also never played legacy before, and being that most of the decks i’d want to play retail somewhere in the $1,800.00 to $2,500.00 range, i’ve always just assumed i’d have to borrow some cards or sell off most of my cards to play at all. Even so, I figured it could be fun to put together a deck with the cards I had laying around and try it out. It’s not a competitive scene, so I figured I might be able to win a game or two unexpectedly.

DISCLAIMER:

If you’ve ever felt intimidated by not knowing a format, or not playing a “good” deck in a tournament, please take the time to read the rest of this article, as I promise you’ll find some value here.

Not every “tournament” is really that at all. The public ones with big money prizes like Pro Tour Qualifiers, Grand Prix, and SCG Open Series are going to be a bit more serious, but the local events often aren’t even in the same ballpark. Your local Friday Night Magic will be a much less serious field of players, and many of these 10 and 20 person weekly events feature a much lower level of competition.

The legacy event I mentioned that I played in last week had 11 players show up to it, with maybe half of those players playing decks of their own design. I spent about 30 minutes in the morning putting together a blue/red Delver of SecretsDelver of Secrets deck with the few cards I had available. I was missing all of the classic dual lands, as well as the Chain LightningChain Lightnings, Force of WillForce of Will’s, and probably about 50% of the other ideal cards for a deck like this.

My sideboard was nearly useless, with a bunch of singleton’s of cards due to availability. However, when I arrived people immediately started offering to let me borrow cards to fill out my deck. I only borrowed maybe 2 or 3 things, including my buddy Claude’s foil Thunderous WrathThunderous Wrath. I mean, why not. Winning with the foil had to be sweeter than with the non-foil right?

In the first match I was paired against the guy who organizes the Sunday tourney, Roger. He was playing a home brew b/r MindcrankMindcrank/Bloodchief AscensionBloodchief Ascension deck with Sinkholesinkholes, ThoughtseizeThoughtseize’s and Phyrexian ObliteratorPhyrexian Obliterator’s. I beat him in 3 games, despite having almost no answer to his Obliterator’s. He even got it into play in game 2 on the second turn with a Dark RitualDark Ritual. Holy Crap!

The second match I was paired against a nice guy named Kyle who was playing another brew. This time with Temporal SpringTemporal Spring, Plow UnderPlow Under, and Crystal ShardCrystal-Shard. He had a reasonable number of good creatures, between Troll AsceticTroll Ascetic and Eternal WitnessEternal Witness, but ultimately I beat him in 3 close games with a nail-biter finish to an epic game 3.

The final match I was paired up against my friend Kevin, who had actually lent me a couple cards for the afternoon. He was playing G/W Maverick, and a near perfect version of it at that. He told me he had been playing the deck for a year solid and told me he’d win because he knew how to play his deck better than I did.

Though I agreed he had an advantage, I wanted to play the games anyway, just for fun. We ended up going to 3 games and playing off the top of our decks at the end.

I was going to lose if I couldn’t draw a burn spell for the final 3 damage, and after he resolved ChokeChoke, I knew it was almost over. I activated my Desolate LighthouseDesolate Lighthouse for the last time i’d be able to with my available Islands and drew an ElectrolyzeElectrolyze I couldn’t even play anymore!

My next card was my single copy of Price of ProgressPrice of Progress and despite almost playing myself out of the win by not reading one of his cards close enough, I managed to narrowly win the match.

So there you have it.

First place at a casual legacy event, playing a 30 minute home brew, probably worth less than $200 matched up against a legitimate tier 1 deck in the finals.

If you have a fun idea for a deck, I recommend you build it. Build it, take it to your local game store and play it. I promise you, winning is more fun than just about every other part of magic, even if you have to lose for a while to find out.

Until next time.

Take care, and play magic.

– Ben Bateman

Today i’m back to finish talking about how to get better at losing. You can check out part of 1 of this article here

Whenever I lose a match, unless i’m in a particularly balanced moment, my default behavior is to become incredibly self reflective, and to try and engage my opponent while doing it. It will sound something like this;

ME: It may not have been correct to attack with the Hanweir LancerHanweir Lancer into your Soulcage FiendSoulcage Fiend on turn 6. I mean, I know he wasn’t paired, but I was just trying to push damage.

THEM: Yeah, I think that was a mistake.

ME (defensive): I guess I could have tried to top-deck another creature to pair, but it seemed like my only out against your deck was to stay aggressive.

THEM: I guess, yeah (not really agreeing, but not wanting to challenge).

Here’s a valuable piece of news for you.

Magic isn’t a game determined by variance more than a fairly marginal amount of the time. It’s a skill based game that rewards it players for playing more, and recognizing patterns as much as possible.

He had better cards? Maybe, but did he actually outplay you? Bad luck? It happens to me too, and the law of averages will punish us all equally, so don’t look to me for an excuse.

In my years of organized play, i’ve learned that if the same player beats you most of the time, it usually means he’s a stronger player for one reason or another. Don’t do the classic thing most of us do when we lose a game. The thing where we walk around repeating one rehearsed sound bite of an excuse, only really understandable to someone else who plays magic.

EXAMPLE: If I had just drawn that one Island I could have had him. Just one! OR. He got turn 2 Mayor both games. I can’t beat that.

The only excuse for losing is winning next time.

The only statement you should be making to the guys that beat you should end with a question mark. When you find yourself in that position after a loss it’s okay to engage the guy that beat you, but try asking questions and listening instead of telling him your reasoning and then defending it at all costs. Unless you’re part of that tiny percentage of us who never make mistakes (nobody), I promise you he doesn’t care how amazing your logic was if you lost with it.

That’s your ego getting the best of you. Set your ego aside for a moment and try to understand the choices you could have made differently all throughout the tournament.

Did you draft a clunky deck? Did you forget to sideboard in a relevant card after losing game 1? Did you mulligan too aggressively because you had too narrow an idea of how you were going to be able to win? In my experience with magic and with life, it’s very easy to become complacent and not push my decision making beyond the most obvious or seemingly most rewarding scenario. The easy choice is rarely good enough to be the answer, and often it’s thinking outside the box that does the most for me, no matter how difficult it is to see that reality sometimes.

Some of my greatest breakthrough’s in magic have come from simply listening to the advice of a better player, and putting that into practice over and over even if it seemed counter intuitive to me at the time. Understanding why it was better than what I was already doing comes later on, but unless I had learned to take advice irregardless of the state of my fragile ego, I would never have moved forward as a player and started winning anything.

I know that opening up to someone like this can seem intimidating at times, especially if you don’t know them, but being able to recognize your self confidence and your value in the real world enough to let your guard down in magic is the answer to improving. Trust me, i’ve been there.

Even if they’re too socially awkward to handle being engaged that directly, it’s much better that you try to bring them to your level, rather than come down to theirs. This is a good policy for life as well, not just magic.

All it takes to succeed at any strategy based game is practice, you just want to make sure you aren’t practicing things the wrong way. That will almost certainly doom you to failure.

Here’s a great suggestion for you to try next time you play; on your notepad you use to keep track of life totals (any piece of paper will do), make a note after making a play during a game that was difficult to decide on, whether or not it worked out. After the game, win or lose, bring it up with your opponent. Simply ask them what they would have done, or if they thought you misplayed or played correctly. You’d be amazed how often you miss something obvious when your doing difficult combat math in your head, or trying to plan for the next 3 turns.

That’s all for today guys. Feel free to let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to talk about, or that you’re curious about in the comments. As always, thanks for reading.

Until next time,

Take care, and play magic.

– Ben Bateman

It’s game 3 of round 1.

You’ve got well over 5 minutes left on the round and you’re holding the trump card. Looking across the table, you can tell you’ve got this one. You’ve been focused all match, playing tight when you need to play tight, and loosening when appropriate. You’re just biding your time, waiting for the right moment to close it down.

He’s out of options and you both know it. He goes for it. You exhale, smile a little on the inside and reach to tap your lands and blow him out

Wait. Something is wrong. Why is your land tapped this way? You had no reason to leave yourself in this position. Unfortunately you’re not playing at the kitchen table anymore, and there are no take-backs in the real world. You can’t cast your trump card. Seriously!?!! You just blew it! You had it!!!

And that’s where it all goes to hell.

For the next 6 rounds, you slouch more and more, play with a little less edge, and expect your opponent to have it most of the time, even it you should be hoping with every fiber of your being that they don’t. You peel cards off of the top of your deck, practically willing them to be crap instead of action. As much as you tell yourself you’re playing to win, you’re really not even in the game anymore

Sound familiar? Alot of players refer to this as being “put on tilt.” Here’s the thing; we all make play mistakes. I don’t care if it’s your first time playing in 11 years, and your too busy reminiscing about Sliver QueenSliver Queen‘s and RancorRancor‘s to notice you forgot to attack, or if you’re in a legacy feature match, and you took the bait and cracked your Misty RainforestMisty Rainforest during combat to turn on their SubmergeSubmerge when you didn’t have to. Our brains aren’t constructed to be super computers, and if they were, we would find more satisfying ways to test their skill than Magic. I’ve probably read a dozen articles by the pro’s talking about taking their losses in stride, and how to avoid getting put on tilt in the face of mistakes or tough losses they felt they could’ve avoided.

However, I do think that there is a level beyond that realization. A level that can work wonders for any player smart enough to face up to it. What i’m talking about is recognizing your self confidence, and learning how to do it with an objective eye to your magic playing throughout. To illustrate what that means i’ve prepared a list of 3 things to try and remember for the casual or competitive player that will help you avoid repeating your mistakes over and over again;

1. The “secret” to success in life is positivity. Don’t show up to play magic in a poor frame of mind whatever environment you’re playing in. There’s a reason Lebron James reads a non basketball related book before playing in games. It clears his mind.

2. Play with as many different people as you can, with an eye towards better players when you can. You learn infinitely more from your losses than from your wins. Especially if you’re able to set your ego aside when taking criticism. A good rule to remember is that if you lose to the same player more than 50% of the time, it probably means they’re a stronger player than you for one reason or another. Respect that rule and learn from them.

3. Be a gentleman when you play magic. Treat every win, every loss, every cool person you meet and every obnoxious or socially awkward d-bag with the same respect. We all win, and we all lose all the time. If you remember this, it will go further for you than you could ever imagine in the long run.

Let me know if any of this stuff resonates with you. Do you have a story like the one I started with that you always remember? Let me know in the comments and i’ll see you guys next week!

Until then, take care and play magic.

– Ben Bateman

Last week I stated that there is a casual player inside every competitive player, but suggested that the flip side of that coin may not be so true.

Is there a competitive player in every casual player, and if so, which profile do I fit? The answer is not so simple, and the explanation may shine some light on the shortcomings of many a casual magic enthusiast turned competitive.

Today, i’m going to pick up where I left with some thoughts regarding my transition from casual planeswalker, to aspiring professional planeswalker. You see, many of the greatest minds to ever play professional magic are gifted at not just this one game, but have incredible innate talent at many other numbers based hobbies, the most common of which are Poker and blackjack. A number of great writers have explored this subject exhaustively, so i’ll spare you the details for now, but the point i’m trying to illustrate is that to succeed at magic ahead of the expected learning curve, it’s likely that you’re drawn to the game for reasons it takes many of us years to realize for ourselves. I’ll give you an example you’re probably familiar with; when asked to explain the gist of the game to someone that has no concept of it, my explanation usually sounds something like this;

Me: It’s like poker meets chess, mixed with lord of the rings. Roughly.

Person: Wow, sounds pretty crazy. Do people dress up and stuff?

Me (lightly frustrated): Rarely. It’s not really about that. The flavor, though important, holds no bearing on the game play. It’s just numbers and percentages really.

Person: Oh, so then it’s a math game.

Me: On paper it can look at it that way, but math isn’t the reason it’s fun. Unless i’m explaining it in this context, math is a pretty narrow aspect to focus on. I’s important to win, but not to play.

Person (confused and no longer interested does not respond).

You see, the aspect that makes magic interesting and easy to grasp for the professional is precisely the opposite of the aspect that draws most people to the game. My earlier statement regarding player types existing inside each other may have been confused in retrospect. There may in fact not be a casual player in every competitive one, only because so many of them bypassed the casual part of the game completely when they learned how to play. Some of them just want to win, no matter the cost.

So when you’re sitting across the table from one of these players, and you curve out with Aether FlashAether Flash into Swans of Bryn ArgollSwans of Bryn Argoll, your thought process is completely different from theirs. While you may be grinning on the inside, excited by the turbo MulldrifterMulldrifter you’ve just made, they’re not registering the art, the flavor, or the awesome synergy you’ve just presented at all. They’re just thinking about how they’re going to abuse your swans for their benefit, and how cumbersome that combination is compared to playing a Vendilion CliqueVendilion Clique and a Jace, the Mind SculptorJace, the Mind Sculptor instead. Some pro’s i’ve spoken to have even admitted to being so conniving, they’ll placate you or intentionally hurry you just for the sake of breaking your focus.

Sound a little foreign to you?

Welcome to the vast majority of my life playing magic.

There are 3 basic player profiles that they talk about in card design that will basically show both sides of the matchups i’m talking about.

1. Timmy: The casual player interested in having fun and only fun. This is his reward for playing.

2. Johnny: The creative mind interested in winning games on his own terms, and with his own deck designs and favorite cards. Cleverness is the bees knees here.

3. Spike: The competitive or professionally minded player. Win. At. All. Costs.

The articles that really break these psychographic profiles down can be found here and here, but the reason I mention them is that if you’re anything like me, you’re a hybrid of the second and third category, and that puts you in a position to fall harder than anyone else. You’re essentially incapable of giving in to common sense and playing with generally “good” cards, because that would be too obvious. However, you’re unwilling to keep your clever little creations out of the tournament room because you really want to win. You want to prove to the world that you’re good at this game you spend so much time, money and weekends playing, and the combination of those two will be the end of you.

Unless you adapt.

I believe it’s possible to do, and if I didn’t i’d probably quit magic tomorrow. I mean seriously. Who wants to lose that much.

From summer 2007, when I discovered the drafts and the tournament room at Cardhaus games in Lynnwood, WA, all the way through last weekend playing at my 8th competitive REL level event in this year, i’ve grown through many of the challenges that serious magic presents to its aspiring players. I’ve played homebrew decks dozens of times (not always to failure by the way), and i’ve won as many drafts as i’ve lost. However, whether losing or winning, the transition from Denny’s to international convention centers is a long one, and one that is fraught with peril and self exploration for the casual player.

That about does it for my introductory series here at The Casual Planeswalker, but don’t worry. If you’re enjoying my writing you can check back here every Wednesday for my brand new weekly column!

Until then, take care and play magic.

– Ben Bateman

When I have an idea for a new deck, nobody gets a word in but me. It doesn’t matter if I ask for your opinion, i’m really just waiting for my turn to talk so I can continue convincing you. You may try and explain that the way i’m doing something is strictly worse than another way, but it doesn’t matter. Once i’m on the warpath, I need to see the deck perform before i’ll change my mind. I wish I could say that this trait is a gift and a curse, but unfortunately the rogue decks I build for tournaments never win anyway.

And this is how I met O’sheen.

He was a very slight fellow, with a fairer complexion and though it’s hard to be entirely sure of it in retrospect, i’m fairly certain was a ginger. We were magic buddies around the time I first made the transition from casual to competitive magic, but unfortunately for his sake, O’sheen was repeatedly beaten over the head by my over-zealousness in what turned out to be an extremely one dimensional friendship. If you’re reading this story, please accept my apologies buddy. I was having too much fun.

Aside from a couple of pre-release sealed events over the years, and the odd novelty draft at my local store here and there, my history with magic predating the summer of 2007 had been punctuated almost exclusively with casual games of one on one with friends at summer camp, or my older brother and his friends. We would play with 60 card decks with no concept of sideboards or proper rules enforcement, commonly deferring to the local store owner for ruling disagreements, of which there were many. Over the years, he actually had to politely ask me to stop calling for rulings so frequently, as the frequency of calls were getting in the way of business. All that aside, the first 12 years or so of my experience with magic was pretty awesome. From ’95 when I was hotly anticipating the release of ice-age, all the way until 2005, with the release of Champions of Kamigawa, I played on and off, never staying away for more than a year or so, and though I periodically considered selling my cards, I managed to maintain my collection enough to encourage my return every time.

In the Spring of 2007, after a painful breakup, and a year very lightly sprinkled with MTG, I returned to magic for one of the more memorable summers of my life. A dear friend of mine had experienced a complete heartbreak about a year prior and had been introduced to magic as a coping mechanism during that time by some mutual friends. When I joined the group for that summer, they already had a very healthy weekly game going on, and with my inclusion, the game moved to Denny’s and became an all night affair more often than not. We would play casual multiplayer, one on one duels, Commander and even chaos draft sometimes, ordering milkshakes at 1am and sampler platters at 3. The power level of the decks we played with was very low, as nobody had an encyclopedic knowledge of the cards available, so we basically played with what we had. We’d buy cards every week or 2 to add to the decks, but it was really about having fun, not winning. There’s an element of magic’s flavor that is missed by most tournament players, and to say we embraced it would be an understatement. My good friend Zeke hadn’t played since magic’s early years, and had just gotten back into the game, so he especially relished the classic cards, and made a point to cheekily quote the flavor text off of Feldon’s CaneFeldon’s Cane every time the card was mentioned or played. We all soon learned to follow suit. One Thursday night, another friend of mine showed up with a combo deck he found online that began winning games in 3 or 4 turns every game. We discussed this as a group and agreed that banning the deck from our weekly game was the only solution that made sense. Who cared about winning if you did it the same way every game?! I have many a fond memory of getting home at 4 or 5am in a complete junk food coma, and going to sleep as the birds started chirping.

I kicked off that summer reeling from my breakup and going to the Futuresight pre-release in Bellevue, Washington. Bellevue is a little bit of a bus ride from Seattle, and for some reason the fact that I had to travel a distance made the whole experience feel a little less routine, and a little more special. It was at that prerelease that I experienced my first win in a large event. I don’t remember my sealed pool, but I do remember going 4-0 with it, and being awarded 18 packs for my hard work! I can recall thinking to myself, “what an amazing way to play magic! You can actually get more cards than you pay for if you win!” this marked a major turning point for me mentally, as my outlook on magic became more and more tournament oriented over the next couple of years, sometimes even eschewing the casual games I loved so much in favor of frantic preparation for constructed events.

I soon started consuming as much information regarding competitive magic as I could as fast as I could, trying to understand how I could use the cards I liked well enough to win. My first high level event was Washington regionals 2007, the first match of which was documented by Great Designer Search 2 finalist Jon Loucks and can be read about here. The boogeyman in standard at the time was the original DragonstormDragonstorm combo deck, but Jon was playing the infinite life gain combo rock deck, titled “Project X.” I had decided to play DragonstormDragonstorm, but instead of actually playing the namesake card, I replaced it with Niv-Mizzet the FiremindNiv-Mizzet the Firemind, Ophidian EyeOphidian Eye and Jhoira of the GhituJhoira of the Ghitu. My deck was completely unreliable and infinitely worse than the original, but was at least unexpected and clever, two details I was beaming about until I went 2 and 5 with the deck at the tournament and admitted defeat. Although I realize now that the deck I played was terrible, I still have a soft spot for Jhoira of the GhituJhoira of the Ghitu and all things Time Spiral related, and i’m still trying to find ways to abuse JhoiraJhoira, Mishra, Artificer ProdigyMishra, Artificer Prodigy and ChronozoaChronozoa (good lord I love me some ChronozoaChronozoa).

I wish I could tell you that I over the years i’ve learned my lesson regarding rogue deck choices, and that I don’t still harass my friends about the cards I love, but the truth is, it’s much easier to recognize these things than it is to put them into practice. As I called O’sheen so many times to explain over those first couple of years, every new idea or clever combination of cards seems like the best idea in the world at the time you have it, no matter how miserably it fails you in reality.

In conclusion, it’s important to remember that there’s a casual player in every competitive player, but not a competitive player in every casual player. Which am I? You’ll have to come back for part 3 of this series to find out!

Until then, take care and play magic.

– Ben Bateman