Keeping Clean All Weekend: a Scrub's Tale of the Star City Invitational

Amid the hullabaloo of the scandalous, but not entirely unexpected, accusations against Alex Bertoncini and the article written by Brian Kibler about the problems with PWP, it seems one very important thing was forgotten: there was an Invitational this weekend. Now I am sure that there will be a  few hundred tournament reports written about that and both Opens. That is not what I will be doing. I don't think you want to hear a play by play of even the most interesting game states. Instead, I am going to walk you through some things I learned over the course of the weekend and maybe that might help you the next time you head off to a Star City, or any Magic, event.

The first thing that should be noted is I am not a competitive player. I don't go to a lot of tournaments and I don't make an attempt to say ahead of the meta or to brew up the most secret of technologies. Instead, I enjoy the mildly competitive nature of FNM. I have never played a Grand Prix or a Pro Tour Qualifier. Instead, I have played what comes to three open weekends held by Star City. This likely means that my evaluative criteria may be slightly skewed. I feel that some of the things I learned, others may have picked up elsewhere without any real effort and think nothing of the observations I noted this weekend. In any instance, I hope this serves someone, somewhere.

It was late, Thursday when the three of us finally pulled away from Norman. The 18 hour drive was daunting and I had already made a 5 hour round trip earlier that day. However, I took the wheel and set our course eastward, toward opportunity and excitement. The drive was not dull. We talked. We laughed. Occasionally the passengers slept as their turn at the wheel neared. And of course, I got to catch up on a few choice podcasts while I awaited my turn in the back seat.

We pulled into Charlotte 17 hours later, despite the multiple deer sightings, the horror movie fog that covered the mountains eerily along I-26, and our slight detour to the pleasant state of South Carolina. Having made excellent time, we checked in to our hotel and proceeded to the venue a mere three blocks away. We sign up for the Invitational and the three of us acquire our free sleeves. You should note that this is only the second thing I have ever gotten from playing Magic, aside from product. I was thrilled to receive these, despite not actually wanting them at all.

Now here is where I thought the learning started. As we walk away, on the look out for trades and an empty table to iron out a few sideboard details, I run into a fellow I met at Star City Kansas City. He is from Canada and is friends with one of the 3-D alterists that were present at the Invitational. I note all this because there is almost no reason for me to know anyone from Canada. Except he plays Magic. He immediately recognized me and took a few moments to talk while he sideboarded for the match he was presently playing. This was surprising.

I look a little different than I did at the KC Open. November caused hair to sprout from my face and I was dressed reasonably well instead of just jeans and a t-shirt. I hardly recognize me. Yet he snap identified me. Why does he care about some kid he met a few months ago who lives in Oklahoma? Because over the course of that Open, I built a rapport with him, along with several other people whom I also ran in to over the course of the Invitational. I know what you are likely thinking: "Well I'm glad you made friends, Sam. Now why does this matter even remotely?"

It matters because I realized that the main reason I still play Magic is not the challenge to my mind, nor the competitive atmosphere, but the people who also play Magic. The community is what makes Magic fun to me. My best stories from the event don't come from my sweet plays or my bad beats but from the car rides there and back and from sitting at tables just talking with people or from our evening ritual of dining at Buffalo Wild Wings (For 3 days I ate nothing but BWWs. My insides feel odd.). This learning experience began long before I got to Kansas City or played my first game day.

Sitting down across from my round 1 opponent, I was cheerful and so was he. I told him "Good Luck" and he replied with "Have Fun" which is something that I feel most Magic players forget. I enjoyed myself immensely all three games we played, despite the fact that in game 2, I literally could not cast any spells by my turn 2. Thanks, double Chalice of the Void. At the end of the match, I emerged victorious and cordially offered the handshake, thanking him for the games. Instead of my opponent's former positive outlook, I was met with a limp handshake and a fair amount of ridicule for my deck choice.

This player put me on tilt simply by being rude. Our games were fairly matched and each player demonstrated a fair amount of play skill and competence. Why then should he ridicule me for my deck choice? If anything, shouldn't I ask him why he chose his deck? The point I am attempting to make here is were I a less involved player, his conduct would have put me off Magic. Don't be that player. Yes, losing is bad but being a poor sport about it is worse. I know that the rage happens. But, as far as that tournament goes, a high majority of those players were adults. What is so special about Magic players that we feel like we can act like children? This kind of conduct hurts the game as a whole and is deplorable. Despite the stakes, at the end of the game you should recognize that at some point it is just a game and as my opponent said "Have Fun."

I played Burn for the Legacy portion of the Invitational (Shocking, I know.) and went 3-1. One other member of our car also opted to fling red spells instead of trying to make the fish swim upstream against Snapcaster Mage and the 12 swords (If I ever start a MTG related band, I so just found my band name). He went 3-1. Austin Yost also decided to burn it up and went 4-0 in the Legacy portion day 1. This is a point of pride for me. Ignore for a moment the fact that I am bragging on myself. One thing I noticed when watching the other two play is how confident they were about things. Then I realized that I too was exceptionally confident when I played.

Confidence is a huge strength in Magic. Not in the annoying, cocky sense but simply acting as if you are constantly making the best play not only presently but the best play imaginable. If you act like every spell you cast is a blowout, even if your opponent knows your list back to front, they start to wonder if this is the spell that blows them out. And as your confidence persists, despite possibly being on the clearly losing side of table, your opponent will start to question their own plays. I noted that most players, even ones who claimed many years of competitive play, were unsettled by my ease during the games. The fact that I was playing a deck that can just up and kill you from 18 on turn 4 also aided to the tilting but as I watched our friend play Caw Blade (I refuse to call that deck or any of its variance anything else), his play was tight and though his deck was not as explosive, there was a confidence there that mimicked the Burn players and that showed in his opponents.

Now perhaps you know all of these things but I think everyone could use a reminder occasionally. I actually was fortunate enough to be handed the perfect example while watching the Invitational, waiting for my next Legacy round to begin. Brian Kibler shuffled up across from a person I did not recognize. He drew his 7 after his opponent cut his deck. He looked at his hand, frowned slightly, and called a judge. He had forgotten to take one of his sideboard cards out from the previous round. He received a game loss and then proceeded to lose the match in game 3, I believe. The judge awarding the game loss apologized and Kibler simply smiled and said that it was okay; it was part of the game. He never got mad or acted rude towards his opponent, despite the fact that he was in a very awkward position, being down game 1. Instead he remained cheerful, focused, and cordial.

In short, Brian Kibler is how Magic players should act. He is friendly, even to people he doesn't know and likely has a great deal of friends and support from the Magic community. He doesn't act on tilt or rage, despite the times when he likely feels foolish or frustrated. He acts like an adult and has my utmost respect due to this. I know it isn't as catchy but perhaps the Magic community should #EmulateKibler. Be friendly, mature, and confident and even if you lose more games than you win, you will still be a better player than many of your opponents.

I know this wasn't my usual lighthearted, jovial romp through the magical, Christmas land of Magic but I feel that these observations need to be shared. Despite not taking home anything tangible, aside from 80 sleeves, the experience was worth every minute and dollar and I hope that my experience helps you. I hope the next time you want to flip a table because your opponent casts their 4th Doom Blade in a row, you decide instead to smile and politely ask "Targeting?"

If you actually want to hear my sweet stories from this weekend, tell me in the comments or contact me on Twitter @samdavisboyhero. Since you clearly have too much time on your hands, you should probably head over to Couch Pirate Radio and listen to the latest Planeswalker Asylum. Thanks for reading!

Until next time, keep your sleeves clean and your handshake firm.