Welcome back to Memories of an Old Magic Player 9.

If you missed yesterday’s article, click here to read it first, or this part will make no sense to you at all. Or maybe none of my work ever makes sense to you, in which case, you can feel free to continue reading from here without part one, and feel exactly the same as usual.

On with the show…

When I began my Sophomore year, I knew that most of the older Wide Receivers had graduated the year before, and if no one had joined the team, I would be the number three wide out, which meant I would get some Varsity play time. I was very excited about that aspect.

Then it happened. The coaches let our Punter try his hand at Wide Receiver. Come to find out, he was pretty damn good. I was insulted. I was intent on hurting him, or beating him, or something! I was determined to get my Varsity time in.

It never happened as I intended. I did get in enough quarters to be a Letterman, but something more important happened, that I would not recognize until many years later.

The Punter ended up being all-state as Punter, Place Kicker, and Wide Receiver that year. Every day in practice, he owned me. He was bigger, stronger, and faster, but I still gave him hell. My efforts not only improved my skills, but I made him better too. I did everything I could to break up all his passes. I tried to make him look bad by tearing the ball away. I even tried tripping him during pass patterns. When it finally came to game day, what could a guy do legally in the game that I had not done to him during practice? He was well prepared with the experience of practice.

Team-mate Competition vs. Game Day Performance (1:1)
Practice vs. Success (2:2)

In the end, while I did not see it then, I clearly see it now. His victory became my victory, as he was my team mate, and he led our team to a six win season, and nearly a playoff birth.

Magic:

Patrick and I recruited many guys to our team, and most came and went. They didn’t like the fact that we kicked their butts in practice, or they didn’t like our attitudes, or they just wanted to go their own ways. Regardless of the path that they went, they could not deny that we had made them a better player by putting them into situations that they could not expect.

They would have to learn to deal with a player that could not be read like an open book in me. They would have to deal with a calculating, deep thinking, and analytical player in Patrick. They would have to deal with someone who could play any type of deck, on any given day, in any different color in me. And they would also have to deal with someone who would master a control deck, and then continue to develop the decks build until it was next to unbeatable in Patrick.

It was a lot to ask of a young player. Of all the guys we took in, only two ever stuck it out long enough to be able to be recognized by us as team members. One was forced into the group, as he was Patrick’s girlfriend’s younger brother. The other was skilled to begin with, but became extremely good under our tutelage. How the others even lasted as long as they did, I will never know. I can remember plenty of times where I wanted to axe murder Patrick myself, but I knew that in the end, I needed him to make my deck, so I could axe murder everyone else in the tournaments.

Understanding of the system is and was the key to our partnership, and ended up being the foundation of our team. Patrick was the deck building genius who couldn’t play himself out of a paper bag. He could take any deck, and tweak it until it was so clockwork and tight, that we could predict the final outcomes of practically every possible game match-up. However his weakness was my strength. I could take a pile of 60 pieces of cardboard and make is sing like an angelic choir. I could beat practically anyone with any deck. In the end we both realized that we needed each other. I certainly could not make a deck and be competitive with it, and Patrick could not even dream of just picking a deck up and playing it without hours and perhaps weeks of study, followed by altering it, and playtesting it until finally that deck would rotate out of playability.

What ended up happening was that I would read up on the meta while at home, and would playtest the decks that you guys were playing. I would figure out your flaws, I would figure out what your deck hates to see, and I would make mental notes. I would beat you by being you. After a few days of this, Patrick and I would meet up and have dinner and talk about the meta. Normally, Patrick would have read the same articles, so we would not need to re-hash that part, but I would fill him in on the flaws of all of your decks, and we would sit and work out how to exploit your decks. Finally, we would prep our decks with the ammo we needed, forge the perfect sideboards, and head off to beat your butts on Friday night. That was how we could be so successful and could go into your store, beat all of you, and take your prizes.

We did the research. We worked as a team. We were prepared for you. We beat you.

Preparation vs. Success (1:1)
Study vs. Success (1:1)
Team Work vs. Success (1:1)

…The Continuing Struggle…

Football:
Heading into my Junior year, I knew for sure that I would get playing time this year. Everyone else had graduated, and I was winning the war of attrition. This time there was only one guy older than me, and since we played in a system where there were two receivers on the field at one time, I felt confident that I was going to get my playing time.

Confidence is a truly great thing, however, sometimes confidence over inflates your head. I worked really hard, but neglected to realize that the coaches could recruit anyone from our school that they wanted too, which is exactly what happened.

They brought in a senior, who stole my spot. He was taller than me, but he wasn’t faster, wasn’t stronger, and he wasn’t as experienced as me. Yet, he got the playing time.

Finally the day came when the number one receiver was hurt in the game. That should mean that I get to play right? No, the coach instead just began playing with one receiver, which I felt was a direct slap in the face.

I felt insulted, I felt put off, I just didn’t want to do it anymore. I put in my time, I put my small frame in the way of people all the time, and what do I get for my efforts? Snubbed to my face.

I would not quit though. I kept my mouth shut, and I decided to punish the new guy like I tried to do to the previous guy who took my spot. However, he was not as good as the all star. I broke up his passes, and I tripped him up, and I knocked him down.

Guess what happened. It payed off! The coach took notice of my efforts, and how easily the other receiver was disrupted.

Then came one fine Saturday, when I was playing in a Junior Varsity game. I caught a pass and took a hard hit afterwards, however, instead of me going down, the defender did, and I took the pass 80 yards for a touchdown. When I came back to the sidelines, the Varsity coach called me over to him. He said, “Son, get those pads off, you’re not playing JV anymore. Welcome to the show.” My team mates shouted out and one of my linemen picked me up and carried me around. It was then that I realized how a lineman can stand in front of a charging 300 pound guy and let him run into him, and fight to keep him away from his Quarterback over and over again. I realized why they kept doing it. It was because of moments like that. It was me being promoted to varsity. Not him, yet he was the most excited of all the people there, including me. He carried me around like I was his kid and it was then that I realized that my victory was his victory. We were a team.

That particular guy never made the varsity team. He barely got starting time on Junior Varsity. But he was the loudest cheerleader for me when I finally triumphed, and that is what being a good team mate is all about. The fact that I still remember his name over ten years later and the fact that he made an impact on my life is a testimony to that.

Magic:
There came a State Championship tournament, where Patrick and I began to prepare weeks and months before hand. It was our turn to win this thing. Or so we pumped ourselves to believe.

It was the time when Odyssey had just rotated out and Onslaught / Mirroden was the blocks for Standard. Everyone expected a heavy dose of Affinity and Goblins. Blue-White Control was rising, and so was Red Deck Wins.

I felt that I needed to be able to kill artifacts and survive a Goblin assault; however I was having trouble getting a two color deck to work at that time. All we had were Fetchlands and compliment color Painlands at that time. Color mixing was not nearly as friendly. The memory of that time leads me to the climax of the preparation when my deck utterly failed me at the Friday Night Magic before the States Tournament. I was so mad; I could feel the steam rolling from my ears. How could I have been so wrong about a deck! I had one night to make a new one, and I knew it wasn’t possible. Patrick tried to console me, and told me that he would help me out, and in response, I turned and threw my deck across the room. That thing hit the wall solid, and dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks. The store owner looked at me funny, and Patrick spoke ominous words. “That deck is either going to burn in flames tomorrow or you are going to win with that thing. It didn’t even fall apart when it hit the wall!”

I was obviously too upset to even realize that the deck had not flew to pieces as it made impact, or even when hurtling through the air. Regardless, the deck stayed as one piece from the time it left my hand, until the time it completed its trip to the ground.

The deck was just a simple ball of hate. It was Mono-Red Land Destruction, during a time in which I was counting on sheer surprise and luck of match-up to guide me through the tournament. Patrick went in with a Blue-White Control deck, and our other team mates went in swinging blindly with Mono-Black Control. We also brought with us a full compliment of players from our store, including players piloting Red Deck Wins, Green-Red Ponza, and even a chick playing of all things, a Game of Chaos deck (Which as the law of averages will tell you, she went 5-5 with the dang thing!).

So the stage was set. We walked into the tournament hall, seven people strong, and found 650 other people staring back at us. As we walked through the place, we saw pretty much everyone playtesting their decks (like morons), and we found that I was right all along, most everyone was playing Affinity or Red Deck Wins. The other viable option was the killer of both decks, Astral Slide.

I was shaking in my boots, as I had not been so nervous about a tournament in a long time, and I simply didn’t want to go through with it. I was seriously considering dropping now, as I knew my deck was not going to work. Patrick asked for my deck and after a convincing look, I gave it to him, and a fascinating thing happened right then and there. He took my deck out of its deck box, and began shuffling it. But that was not the strange thing. He began talking to it like a small child. “It’s your big day. You are going to be doing well today, and you’re not going to give Chris troubles today. If you do, so help me, your remains will be scattered all over the apartment complex when we get home.”

I had never seen anything like it before, but even though I thought Patrick had just lost his mind, he set me at ease. What could possibly happen? I lose a few games and drop. I had money for booster drafts, I’ll just hope my luck is better there right?

The pairings went up, and the sea of people migrated across the hall, and began to filter itself out. I then found myself sitting at the third table. “Great!” I thought, “I can’t wait to go up in flames right in front of everyone!”

However, it didn’t play out as you might expect. My opening hand revealed the precious mana that I had been deprived of the previous night. I held three mountains, a Blistering Firecat, a Chartooth Cougar, and two Oblivion Stones. A damn good hand I initially thought, but then I remembered, I was playing Land Destruction. “Crap! My deck is going to screw me the other way!!”

As it began to play out, my opponent leads off with a Plains and passed the turn. I draw a card, and find a second Blistering Firecat and groan. Mountain pass. “What? No Goblins?” The guy chuckles and sifts through his hand like some pro.

He lays down another Plains and passes again. I draw my second card and am staring at another freaking Blistering Firecat! “What the heck is going on here?! Alright deck, you won’t play how I want to play, fine, I’ll play how you want to play.” I play another Mountain and pass.

Then a funny thing occurred…

…he draws a card, sighs and passes. He was mana screwed!

I happily draw a card, my fourth Blistering Firecat, and play a Mountian. I then tap down and put a card into play, face down and pass. “Great. Well, your Exalted Angel will be sitting and waiting for a while. You don’t have a single Plains or Slide in order to flip him.” I simply nod and remind him that I passed him my turn.

He draws and discards. I begin to get excited. This couldn’t be true! I draw a card, and there is my fourth Mountain… how sweet Red mana is! I hammer that bad boy down tap it all and send in a Firecat, plus a morphed creature. He begins to flap about his arms and complain about how sick he is of Blistering Firecat and about how little skill it takes to play it. Heh, he hasn’t seen anything yet…

He takes his turn and nets a Mountian, which brings out an Astral Slide. At this point I start to beat myself up, because I can’t remember my results against Slide, and begin to worry about game two and three. I also could not remember my sideboard, but I knew that he had to have Sacred Ground and Circle of Protection: Red in his side. Was I in trouble??

I draw into a Starstorm, and send another Firecat plus morphed guy into his face. He actually grabs his neighbor and starts explaining the situation to the guy, as if I was doing something illegal or something, but I just kept my smile a secret and sifted through my hand like I needed to think about my next play. After long false debate, I pass my turn and remove the Firecat from the board.

He draws, drops a Rift, cycles, and pops my morph, which he then cries out when he discovers it was yet another Firecat. At this point I couldn’t keep my composure anymore and I show him the fourth in my hand and ask if he wanted to start game two.

I head over to my sideboard, and suddenly realize something. Oh yea, Astral Slide is my girlfriend (censorship at its best). I see looking back at me my playset of Lightning Rifts, my other two copies of Oblivion Stone, and the two copies Naturalize just chilling in the short box.

After shuffling up, I draw my opening hand and laugh outloud as I hold two more Firecats. The guy looks up and says, “Show me two Firecats and I’ll submit right now.” Ironically, when I showed him two Firecats, he did submit! And I moved on in the tournament.

That is how the tournament went for me. Come to find out, Astral Slide decks did really well against the aggro decks that were a fan favorite, which meant that the rising players were control players and decks. As we just learned, my deck hated Astral Slide, and had Blue-White control as an auto-win due to my LD elements, and so I ended up going 7-3 on the day, and getting 31st place. Due to tie breakers, I missed the top eight by one victory. As a matter of fact, one of my three losses came at the hands of a guy who made it into the top eight.

Afterwards, we found that prizes trickled down to the 32nd place, which meant that I won a prize! I ended up winning just under a box of boosters, and I chose Mirroden as my box. Even thought the tournament was my victory, Patrick was the biggest fan that I had that day. He had dropped out early, and was following me around and doing a bit of scouting. When all was said and done, I let no one open my booster packs except for me and my buddy Patrick, as on this day, the victory was ours.

Team Work vs. Success (2:2)

… In the End…

Football:
In my Senior year, I was the starter finally, and I lead the team in receptions and receiving yards. Unfortunately, we were still a running team and not a passing team.

I learned a lot that year. I believe it was because I was mature enough to listen while working with my body. I could take in the coaches words while still working on my footwork, and coordination. It was then that words started to mean things to me. Words like, integrity, inspiration, motivation, hard work, and discipline. These all meant a lot to me and as the years rolled by, they have molded the way I look at things. For example, I would rather starve to death than steal food to survive. I would rather work and make money for the food, as that is the meaning of self pride.

Pride. To me, pride is the value you place in yourself. It is the standard that you always strive for. It is what makes you go, and what you try to keep at all costs. Pride.

At the end of my senior year, we had our yearly awards banquet. At that banquet, my coach was announcing a certain award, and as he began talking he said words that still aggravate me, but as I look back at the words of this article, I realize that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“When this kid came to me four years ago, if you had told me that he would be starting or even playing for me one day, I would have laughed at you. Yet, here he is, four years later, a three time letterman, your starting Wide Receiver, and a strong man. I hereby give the Most Improved Player award to Chris Newton.”

“I would never play for you ey? How do you like me now?”

Magic:
There is no Magic story for this at this time.

Learning Magic is tough. You won’t understand the stack, and you will be nervous playing against someone who is quickly riffle shuffling his deck. You will lose in your first twenty tournaments, but that is no reason to quit, as there will be a twenty first tournament, and that could be your time. You will learn about life, and life will teach you.

Since I am short a Magic related story, I will give leave you with something that I hold dear from my football days.

If you are going to do something, then do it. Don’t be bashful and half-brass whatever you are doing. Go at it, full force, and be aggressive. This can relate to your Magic career or anything else you have decided that you want to do. In the case of Magic, apply it. If you know that you want to be a good Magic player, then BE a good Magic player. Put in the time and effort. Throw some money at it, and get the best cards. Go to the tournaments and get the experience. Read the articles and keep up with your meta game. Don’t let someone else tell you what you should or should not be doing. You just do what you know to do, and that is be aggressive and accomplish your goal.

My coach taught us this lesson while we were standing in our formation. He stopped us before the snap of the ball and made us hold our stances. Thankfully I was standing upright, but lineman were down in three and point stances. He wanted to see who would fall out of position first. He wanted to see who would jump offsides or would start shaking or whatever would result. When finally someone did fail, a defensive lineman, he stumbled forward and avoided hitting the guy in front of him. He quickly jumped up and got back into his stance.

Coach was furious and stormed over to him and began reading him the riot act. “What is your problem?!! Can’t you watch the ball? Can’t you see that it didn’t move? Why did you move?” Obviously you don’t answer the coach when he is fuming, so he just continued on. “Get your fat brass into position and stay there until the ball moves!” So the Quarterback continued the count and still no ball movement, and again the guy fails and falls out of position.

This time, the coach screamed, “What are you doing?! Have you learned nothing at all from me? If you have to make a mistake, make it aggressively! Like this!” So he climbs down into the four point stance and holds it for a few moments, and finally, he ‘fails’. He surged forward and knocked the holy crap out of the offensive lineman in front of him, and sent him reeling to his seat.

He turned around and said, if you are going to jump offsides, then freaking jump offsides. Knock that guy on his brass and get back into the huddle. The penalty is going to be five yards whether you hit the guy or not, but let that guy know that I am coming for you, and I’ll be right back in a minute. If you jump offsides, do it aggressively! Now watch this!”

The coach got back down into the four point, and the Quarterback began his cadence. The coach lifted one hand, and the offensive lineman flinched, in an effort to protect himself from the coach, and another coach blew a whistle, calling the guy for False Start. The aggressive mistake left its impression.

While I don’t claim to know all of the answers of life, I do know what life has given me thus far. It has given me a taste of the future, and I desperately want more. I know the path I took to get to this point, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I earned my whip lashings, I earned my glory, and it has been a hell of a ride so far.

When it begins to feel like life has you down, and you can’t keep doing the same old thing, try something else, but keep on trying, as that is the lesson life has for you. Oh, and if you are making a mistake, whether you make it aggressively or not, it is still a mistake, but an aggressive mistake is one that gets noticed by others.

And knowing is half the battle…

cpn

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Articles Spotlights from 2007:
Lorwyn Theme Week Intro & Schedule of Events
Blink And Bounce: Timing is Key
Going Blind: XCB Metagaming - A Prolonged Conclusion.
The Science of Magic: Genetic Engineering, Part Two.
Shifting Lineaments: Casual Metagaming (Pt. 2).
The Dungeon Of Malefict: Pure Evil!
Land Week Introduction & Schedule.
Combofusion: Legends Timeshifted.
One Card to Rule Them All: Coastal Piracy
Irrational Love: Chimeras. The Lego's of Magic.