Hey, I finally wrote up that PT retrospective! Unfortunately, I'm doing it three time zones away from the match notes I took so it's
extra anthropological this time. Think of the below as a first draft, which I'll amend once I have my notes with all those delirious biznasty plays I couldn't remember. (critique the fuck out of it, if you want) I went 2-4 drop with an incredibly clunky manabase (6c midrange). It's what kills me in the end and I lose not one, not two, but three games to Crumbling whatsit not playing nice. I deserve all of this for splashing Baloth Null in a Jeskai deck, but I had no illusions of making day 2 so why the hell not, right? I slammed it on turn six literally half my games and couldn't make
for dudes or removal.
I get tbere a lil late (sorry, Dom, I thought it'd work out!), and after I eventually find my seat I thiiiink James Turner from those LoadingReadyRun videos (they're local, it's not implausible!) is very, very kind and answers my baby
Magician questions from a few seats down the table. Nice dude, I really wish I'd said something.
The Hedron Crawlers give me a bunch of
, which I never really find myself wanting, but splashing Baloth Null and Void Snare off Fertile Thicket, Crumbling Vestige, and a Swamp is incredibly stupid. I do it anyway because it's not like long tournaments reward consistent hands or anything.
I'm not too late, though, to get the Stoneforge promo (which I like more than the OG art actually??) but everyone else has already done pool registration, swapped piles back, and started to deckbuild. A judge comes over and gives me the forms, pool, and so on, and the clock is on. I'm not that worried - twenty minutes to build a deck? I can do it in three on modo - but I'm totally unused to these deck registration sheets and fuck mine up not once, not twice, but thrice. I figure I'll never get deck checked (I don't), know I'm the one verifying my own pool, and proceed to build Jeskai midrange. There's five minutes left of the twenty by the time I get my pool registered, which I spend accordingly:
(minutes six and seven, are finding a judge to take my forms, and I still get to the table before my opponent does. I'm not used to being the most punctual player, and decide to use the time to eat half a brownie.) Carrying around all this stuff (cards, playmat, water bottle, lunch, dessert, travel j, headphones, battery charger for my phone) in my nice messenger bag is stupid. On day 2 I lose the food and bring my Cube, too, and that's equally brutal. I can see the appeal of huge backpacks, even if they make you look like a dweeb. Like the loose, voluminous sleeves of European swordsmen, this terrible, terrible look is entirely functional. Who knew!
Round one I'm up against a very polite tournament grinder. A grinder without byes is depressing; an invested one more so. Why is it that these guys are so bad? I 2-0 him in half an hour (t6 Baloth Nulls: two) and we chat about
Magic for a little bit; he started in Revised as a kid, and I've probably done a dozen sober drafts in my life since getting blazed and introduced to RTR. In my naivete I even thought it was a great format, though I always forced Boros (
Aurelia was my first rare, gotta draft cards for EDH!) and none of us were terribly good.
As I explain this to him, some time during game two, the light sinks out of his eyes. His grinder lifestyle sounds sad enough that I don't feel any worse about it. I'm
2-0 going into round 2, which is, I learn, when the people who know what they're doing start to show up. First, though, it's time for commerce.
There's a few companies represented, and a trio of artists. I consider having Jesper Myrfors sign my Duress, but I don't actually have the right Duress with me, so there's nothing I can do about it. Moving over to the guys with worse business plans, I check out their wares, buy half a dozen cards (mostly OGW includes but also a WL doomsday to replace my shitty Sixth Edition one) and some officially-printed tokens I was missing.
R2 I play a guy (named Kevin i think?) who couldn't be more obviously piscine without sprouting gills. He's playing one colour with a splash, and not very well. He's nice enough though (I let him take a thing back at one point and caution him about his later rounds) and we chat about the event, his experiences with the game, and I also give him a few pointers on his manabase. My own manabase is atrocious but a) I'll probably draw the right cards at the right time anyway, I usually do and b) do as I say not as I do, asshole.
2-0, (4, 0)
Our games and conversation take most of the hour, so I go and cluster by the boards to see who I'm up against next. As a naïf in these affairs, I get there on time - the round doesn't start for another 20 minutes. (I surreptitiously eat a brownie from my bag.) Nobody is talking to anyone, or even on their phones; they're just standing around, and it kinda weirds me out. None of 'em know how to get through throngs of people, and two minutes after the Judge comes by with printouts, I finally just elbow a dude in the ribs and get my table number. The rest of the tournament I use the last dregs of my data plan to load the online pairings for myself and anyone nearby. I don't have any left by the time I leave;
smooth, babe.
R3 I play this nice dude who's driven up from Seattle with his Legacy squad. I awkwardly ask if he plays with CML, and he goes 'yeah, don't know who that is'. It couldn't have been more awkward if I'd asked him whether or not Humble Pie were good, back in the day.
Brad (I think his name is Brad?) is well-built, with a cute, bushy brown beard and nice clothes, so I don't resent him when I get utterly stomped 0-2. "Wait, that was game two?" I've really got to get better at remembering which game I'm in during these tournaments; see my
Origins report for a similar story except that I conceded game two at 16 life and therefore lost the match. Here, though, I'm kept off
or
for Isolation Zone / Cliffhaven Vampire long enough that he gets there with fliers.
2-1 (4, 2)
Between rounds 3 and 4 I get to talk to a few of his squad; they're pretty interested in filling out my Cube draft when it fires tomorrow, but I never get his number and so that falls flat. I warn him that it's "unorthodox" and he calls another guy over. We spend ten or twenty minutes chatting Legacy brews and the Infect guy and I come up with a real doozy. I've tried to reproduce the beats as best as possible, because I was having too much fun to record:
a. Infect is cool.
b. Legacy Infect is the coolest.
c. Legacy Infect doesn't want Ponder, he argues, because of the deck consistency. I don't actually play his deck but I keep arguing this point for a lil; "maybe not all four", I reach in desperation. Daze, Invigorate, match loss.
d. UG Infect is probably the best Infect build. What else is out there?
e. At this point I start to feel knowledgable again; strictly worse Legacy brews are my fuckin' wheelhouse. I bring up R/G Blazing Shoal infect, which is 'so fast'. I suggest
Reckless Charge to make the deck even faster ("Look, dude, you drop the elf, Charge it, and you have the flashback in case you don't Get There.") I think I mention something about Haste being "basically Time Walk".
We're captivated by the idea of this awful Reckless Infect build. I suggest splashing the Blazing Shoal / Progenitus kill ("with Natural Order in the sideboard for grindy decks", I joke), and collectively we reason that Through the Breach / Emrakul dilutes the game plan a hair too much.
Maybe the deck wants Chrome Mox so Progenitus is always live and it can Charge a glistener elf t1. Simian Spirit Guide instead in case you get Surgically Extracted? Maybe it should play Lightning Bolt. Maybe it
shouldn't play Lightning Bolt. "Your combo matchup is worse, but you can bring stuff in aggressively post-board, right?"
"You can't play Chalice-"
"Well yeah, of course, but...wait, why not? Don't we have Chrome Mox?"
"It's so bad-"
"yeah, if we're killing with a free spell maybe some REBs, splash for Thalia?"
"You're doing this deliberately at this point.", Brad (Benjamin?) says, and our little charade is over, but the Infect guy has vowed to get the last few cards and run it at FNM for two or three weeks. What a mensch.
r4 I lose both games to mana issues, and go over to check on Dom. He's utterly crushing some guy on-board and finishes him off with
Fall of the Titans just after I get there.
"Hey, Dom, can you take a look at my deck? I really don't know the format."
Dom suggests two cuts, both good, and a sideboard strategy I immediately forget to write down.
Between rounds Dom and I go for coffee at a gelato place. There's a Hot Chocolate Festival on and I get a hot chocolate with bourbon in it, for which I pay the princely sum of seven dollars. If I had to be charitable with sizing I'd call it a "small". It's disgustingly good and I hate that I almost feel justified in the purchase. I order before Dom, and the drink was ready while I was still using their bathroom so I have to very, very confusedly collect Dom(outside), my drink(on the counter), and my self-respect(grade ten) in short order.
I lose my next two rounds 1-2 for a 2-4 (6-8) drop. It's late when I get home - fuck, this took way too long for something not held at my house, Cube has spoiled me - and then I have dinner and pass out.
DAY TWO
I had two deckboxes of basics, an M14 Deckbuilder's Toolkit, an OGW fat pack, my utility land binder, a whole Multiverse of chaff, cuts, trade stock... also, a couple loose packs, some old promos for prizes, dice, a 'Khans / Dragons' poker chip, and a Paper Tiger/Scissors Lizard/Rock Lobster set. Not that I needed all that for the draft, the only thing that really worried me was the trade stock. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a
Magician with their eyes on your binder, and I knew we'd get into it pretty soon.
Of course, an hour and a half later I still didn't have a draft. After getting a few more cards (highlight: a pair of Blue Blasts with what Google Images seems to confirm is Richard Garfield's signature???) out of a 25c box, as well as a foil Russian
Celestial Crusader for Dom. "I'm the only one who knows what it does anyway", he laughs) I decide to call it quits.
I went home for lunch, did some work, then got wicked blazed, did the dishes, and bailed on meeting Dom at the cat café (it's raining out, i moaned. get it together, babe!). If I'd hustled a little harder, or been (even) more aggressive in sticking to people, the draft might've come together, but alas. The GP was a fun experience, though, and I got what I wanted out of it (a baby nerd's first hajj, the Stoneforge Mystic promo). As always, thanks for reading!