2003

I've been to most Vintage Championships, all the way back to that first in 2003. I played an awkward Keeper-style deck with a transformational Oath of Druids sideboard, years after Keeper-style decks stopped winning, and years before Oath of Druids would start winning.

In the years since, attendance would rise, the prizes would get bigger and bigger, the cards would get better and the plays would get tighter. The stakes would never be higher.

In 2005 I made second place at Champs with an early build of Gifts Ungiven, before the card would catch on in the larger community. I won a few packs of italian legends, not enough to cover the cost of my convention badge.

I wouldn't get close at a Champs again.

2017

Early in 2017, before the restriction of Monastery Mentor and Thorn of Amethyst, I'm firmly confident that Mentor and Shops are the top two decks, and I was consistently playing well and winning with both of them. This leaves me with options, in case Wizards decides to restrict a card out of either deck. Naturally they restrict cards from both.

Following the restrictions, I test heavily and come to the following two conclusions:

Mentor and Workshops are still better than everything else. For some reason unknown to me, I can no longer win a match with either.

Over the next two months I bankrupt my Magic Online account, losing league after league with every undefeated decklist I can find, and every personalized brew I can dream up.

I test Mentor decks and find they can't beat Workshops, then test Workshop decks and find they can't beat Mentor. I test decks which are dramatically metagamed to beat both and I can't beat either.

In the back of my head I grow more interested in Kess, Dissident Mage. Kess was printed in Commander 2017, which meant it isn't available on Magic Online. While all other ideas lose every matchup imaginable, Kess stands in its pristine, untested state. With each game I lose, an unknown quantity becomes more and more attractive by comparison.

September

Team Serious is a social dining club whose members share rooms at tournaments and talk about Vintage to avoid their day jobs.

In the Team Serious chat, I brainstorm ideas for my Kess deck and some of the gang is interested. Soon five of us are talking about running variants of the deck. We're having long discussions about how controlling versus aggressive the list should be, and whether Deathrite Shaman makes the mana better or worse.

Kess is only available in the Commander 2017 product, and only in foil. I've been trying to get out of foil cards entirely, but Kess leaves me no choice. I ask Abe, the head judge, if I can buy a few foil Kess, damage them, and be assigned nonfoil proxies, but he won't budge. Even if it's not technically illegal, playing a deck with 2 foil Kess and no other foils looks extremely shady to other players, and in Vintage the court of public opinion is more powerful than the DCI. I realize that if there's any chance I want to play Kess at champs, I not only need to buy Kess, but run some reasonable mix of other foils.

Sure, I still have some foils ... but do I have a reasonable mix?

Did you know that on eBay, you can buy Japanese boxes of Commander 2017 at the same price as english retail? It would be irresponsible not to get them in Japanese.

And if I have to buy foil Kess, Gush, Gitaxian Probe, and By Forces anyway ... why not get them in Japanese? I mean I don't want my cards to be mismatched, right? Aesthetics are important. Fund the arts.

Besides, these Russian Abrades won't be delivered by champs, but they're so cheap. I really can't afford to pass this deal up.

I haven't picked a deck yet, but I have to place the orders two weeks before champs if there's any chance I'm going to run Kess. I could have tested the deck last week, but it's too late now.

Cards in the mail, I finally proxy up a few builds of the deck I just paid for and play some test games against Stefan on Mentor.

It's not good.

For the most part I seem to lose to cards that both decks are running, which makes it unclear how to improve the deck. It's hard to get much information about the matchup, I can only assume I'm playing poorly. Kess herself feels very strong, but the deck needs some work. I think I should have stayed out of foils.

Tuesday

One day before my flight and there's no amount of thinking or testing I can do that's going to get me closer to an answer.

Objectively I'm sure that Workshops is the best deck, and the easiest to build correctly. This proves out, as my test list will end up being within 3 cards of the deck that wins.

I'm still convinced Mentor is a close second, and in the past it's a deck I've known fairly well, and competently played.

My testing results have been all-around poor, but objectively speaking, if I want to optimize match wins, I need to play one of these two decks.

As my Japanese foils start trickling in the mail, I'm reminded of a time when I played team decks and prided myself on expensive cards. I remember a time when I played unique lists which people would later name after me and play themselves.

On Tuesday night I pack the cards for Kess and leave everything else at home. I don't want the option to change my mind later.

Wednesday

I leave to the airport from work. On the way I learn that one of the Kess players has decided not to play in the main event, and another has opted to play Mentor instead, bringing the team deck down to three players.

I'm the first to arrive by a few hours, so I have dinner at the Pittsburgh International Airport.

In Boston I'm a vegetarian. On vacation, I'm not.

"Out of Town, Standards Down," is a Team Serious mantra.

I have a hamburger at Bar Symon. It's good, but nothing worth going carnivore for. We're staying in an AirBnB a short ride from the venue. I still have time to kill when I get there, so I take a walk to a nearby grocery store to pick up beer for the weekend.

Pittsburgh is a city wedged between three rivers on the edge of a plateau. Our rented house is one of many on a steep hill with a breathtaking view of downtown. The walk to the grocery store at night is lonely and tranquil.

My plane has landed and my deck is together. There are no more decisions to make tonight. In an hour I'll be surrounded by friends and acquaintances, old and new. My stomach will be filled with Polish pierogis and Scotch whiskey, my ears will be filled with bad beat stories and friendly debate about the metagame. I'll be signing playmats and agonizing over mulligans.

For now it's quiet.

The grocery store is closed, so I return to the house empty-handed. Jon, one of the two remaining Kess players, is first to arrive. My sideboard isn't settled yet and we play some post-board games against Workshops. Pulverize and Meltdown end up getting cut, though we certainly didn't play enough games to be sure. I think that after the Thorn of Amethyst restriction, Energy Flux might be better than it usually is. I become obsessed with the idea that Shattering Spree deals with Precursor Golem tokens when By Force doesn't.

The sideboard is strong in the games I win, and the games I lose feel unwinnable regardless of plan. I finish about 50-50 which is objectively bad for a post-board plan, but also the most encouraging results I've had since the restriction.

I decide that in order to have the workshop matchup I want, I have to have to skimp elsewhere. I fill up on Shattering Sprees and Abrades, leaving my 75 with absolutely zero answers to a resolved Reality Smasher. I regret not playing Jon's more controlling Kess list, with its Dismembers and Subterranean Tremors. I regret moving away from Jeskai Mentor, with its Swords to Plowshares.

Steve and Jimmy arrive, and with the house drinkless, we adjourn to a nearby tiki bar. Steve casually orders a Painkiller off-menu, impressing both me and the bartender, who has no idea what's in it. The decor is brilliant, but it turns out Jimmy and Jon don't like tiki drinks. I order, and my drink comes from a pre-mixed bottle below the counter. It turns out I don't like tiki drinks either.

It's Punk night, Jimmy approves of one song and scoffs at the next. At the bar we meet an Old School player who showed up after I Tweeted our location. Magic has a way of making conversations easy, and soon enough we're arguing over the reserved list like old friends.

Service is slow, but friendly. There's a large dance floor in an attached room, with strobe lights and oscillating lasers, billowing fog but completely free of people. The drinks are too sweet and too weak, but at 2AM on a Wednesday, nobody is complaining. We switch to beer and the bartender recommends a diner for breakfast the next day.

Thursday

The diner, like my play, is above average but not notable. Since the grocery store was closed the night before, we stop by a liquor store on the way to the Old School tournament. I've been getting into scotch lately, and team serious loves its scotch, so I buy a bottle of Ardbeg 10 year, which I hadn't tried yet.

The Old School tournament, with its tradition of mid-round drinking and Collector's Edition cards, is held unsanctioned in a hotel outside of the main tournament venue. This will be my second Old School tournament ever, and my first with a deck I didn't borrow. For me, the appeal comes from how little value I place on winning. Compared to Vintage, this is relaxing. I built my Old School deck months before, and have not played a single game, nor goldfished a single hand with it.

I built my list primarily to maximize the number of Alternate 4th Edition cards I can run. I play Blue/White because my Revised Tundras match my waxback Mishra's Factories, and my Beta Underground Seas do not. I suspect all of my opponents think my cards are just 4th edition, which I find quietly satisfying.

I run into Randy Buehler and we chat briefly. I tell him I'm playing a Kess deck tomorrow, which he seems interested in. As I talk to Randy, drink in hand at 11am, I quietly wonder if he watches my stream and thinks I'm an alcoholic. I wonder how this affects my chances of getting on the VSL again.

My round one opponent accidentally drops a Goblin King face-up on the table while he's shuffling. I'm feeling the casual Old School vibe, so I decide the fair thing to do is cut to a random card in my deck and show him. It's a Jayemdae Tome, and I can tell by the way he says "Oh, Keeper", than I'm not supposed to have a Jayemdae Tome in my deck.

In game one we trade off tons of cards, but I eventually pull ahead, because of Jayemdae Tome.

In our second game he casts two goblins and a Ball Lightning, bringing me down to 10 quickly. I tap out to play a Serendib Efreet and he casually casts two Goblin Grenades. I'm as excited to see it happen as he is.

In the third game, one of us stalled on mana and the other didn't. I honestly don't remember which.

My round two my opponent kills me in minutes. Turn one Ankh of Mishra, turn two Ankh of Mishra, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.

At one point in the second game he plays a Lightning Bolt. He's acting like it's bait for something scarier, but I'm pretty sure he's bluffing. It's clear I need to counter it now, or he'll have the mana to kill me next turn, but I don't, and he does.

"I was bluffing! It wasn't really bait," he says. "You needed to counter the Bolt so I wouldn't have the mana to kill you next turn!"

I nod and shrug, "You got me!" It's easier than explaining to my opponent that sometimes I just throw away games and I'm not entirely sure why. He played the game well, there's no reason for me to make a fuss about it.

With the extra time I go to check on Jon's match. His opponent recognizes me and says he wants to thank me after the game. Eternal Weekend is a place I get to meet a lot of TMD'ers and Twitch followers, but I can tell this is something different.

Turns out last year he played in a feature match at Vintage Champs, when I was doing coverage. On camera he made a mistake. Feature matches are incredibly stressful, and the fewer you've been in, the more stressful they are. He was playing a very complicated, borrowed deck and he hadn't played in years. He cast the card Mystical Tutor, a card he didn't own and had never played with, and did exactly what the card said to do - he found a mana source and put it on top of his deck. As an old grizzled vintage veteran I knew that the term "mana source" meant something different when Mystical Tutor was printed, and the card has long since been errata'd, but of course, he didn't know that. Under the circumstances, it would be impossible for him to know that, so he found a land. It's a mistake I've seen a dozen times in tournaments before, so I did my job as a commentator and explained why it was such an easy mistake to make.

It seems some people he ran into afterwards were not so understanding. It's a pretty common thing in magic to make fun of a person for playing sub-optimally, and it's a pretty easy thing to make someone feel terrible. But it also doesn't take much to make someone feel welcome, and sometimes I forget that.

We talk about Old School and my stream and the merits of playing magic 1000% seriously, as Team Serious might say. Being shitty to other players is all too common, and I haven't always been the guy on the right side of that scenario, and I was so glad that I was this time. He's genuine and enthusiastic and optimistic and it reminds me how important a thing that is to keep working on.

This 10 minute conversation would be the highlight of my trip. I suspect it would have been even if I had won the main event.

The next round starts and I lose easily to an intricate Mishra's Workshop-based prison deck.

I enjoy spending time with Old School players. The community reminds me a lot of what Vintage looked like when I first started playing. Still, I find myself missing vintage. I need more edge, I need more power, I need higher stakes. I'm having fun, but I need something else.

If I drop now I can still make the Vintage trial, so off I go.

On the way to the convention center I eat a quick lunch at Jimmy Johns, a place absolutely not worth being a carnivore for. I run into a judge friend of mine and chat about vintage. A new vintage player overhears the conversation and chimes in. He's playing Eldrazi and I wonder if my decision to cut anti-Eldrazi cards is a mistake. We walk to the venue together and talk about getting into the format. I've had this conversation hundreds of times online, but it's so fun to have it with someone who has no idea who I am, who's just super excited to try the format out.

A minute before the the trial I decide to swap out Jace the Mind Sculptor for Chandra, Torch of Defiance. I had some interesting results with the card online and the trial seemed like a great time to confirm them.

My first round opponent is on BUG. His game one is a quick three Deathrite Shamans. I'm surprised how much value I can get off of a Kess just by running spells into the Deathrites and recasting them without passing priority, but I find my kill cards too late. In his second game he opens with land, Black Lotus, two Dark Confidant, and I'm quickly buried. I don't miss the fact that Jon's Subterranean Tremors would have easily won both games.

The following two rounds are against Outcome decks, and I'm pleasantly surprised to find Abrade and Shattering Spree to be pretty effective at keeping them under control. This list has fewer dedicated anti-combo cards than I've been running, but the games feel smoother, making me reevaluate the matchup.

At some point in a long game, I've used a Dack Fayden to steal two of my opponent's artifacts, and work them down to two cards in hand. In a sudden reversal, my opponent sticks a Defense Grid and plays a Tinker which I counter, leaving me tapped out and unable to stop a Timetwister. My new hand is good, but his is better, and he draws a dozen cards and casts a dozen spells. With two mana floating he casts a Hurkyl's Recall and targets me. I smile, maybe more than I should. He want his two Moxes back, but that's not how Hurkyl's Recall works. Huryky'ls Recall was printed with awkward Antiquities wording and keys off of ownership. I own no artifacts, so a Hurkyl's Recall targeting me returns no artifacts to anyone's hand. Hurkyl's Recall has worked this way for 23 years, but it never mattered until Dack Fayden was printed.

If I offer him a takeback I'm an chump. If I don't I'm an asshole. I let the Hurkyl's resolve as targeted and he passes, two mana short of killing me. I easily win on my turn, unsure of how I should have handle the situation. My opponent is completely classy about the whole thing.

My round four opponent is playing another Kess deck. I know this about 4 turns before he casts it, because he's the only person I'll play against all week that didn't have to ask what the card did. I win the "strange grixis homebrew" mirror with my Young Pyromancer outpacing his Daretti, Ingenious Iconoclast.

My round five opponent is on a Blue/White Mentor brew. Sometime around turn five we both stop at the same time, look at the board, and laugh. There are four planeswalkers in play, including a Gideon of the Trials and a Chandra, Torch of Defiance. With a Kess on the stack we both wonder how either of us have a positive record. Chandra defeats Gideon and I finish the event 4-1.

X-1 is really the perfect record. When people ask you how you're doing, you get to shrug and disappointedly say "eh, X-1", as if you're so used to winning you're almost confused by the loss.

An X-0 player? maybe they got lucky.

A disappointed X-1 player? obviously a pro.

Good enough to run the deck back tomorrow at least.

By now some friends have jogged over from the Old School event, out of breath. "Discrete BYOB" had devolved over 6 rounds into "Indiscrete BYOB," and an unhappy hotel staff ejected the players shortly after the finals. We head to Emporio, a meatball restaurant, where I have a dinner worth being a carnivore for. I try four different kinds, over a bowl of mac and cheese, and everything is fantastic. Even the veggie-meatball is amazing, which is no small feat. I love vegetarian food, but veggie meatballs are something I've never seen done well before. Friends filter in from the airport, and the night buzzes with talk of 75th cards.

Fat and happy, we head back to the room, and visions of lucky topdecks lull us to sleep.

Friday

On Friday morning, Jimmy realizes he's forgotten to register for the main event, bringing us down to two Kess players.

Our Uber driver is a melancholy older woman. We ask how her day is and she replies "I'm hanging in there", in exactly the sort of voice that lets you know she isn't. She ignores the GPS instructions and she talks to us about how the local college is building robot snakes and we awkwardly fumble for a way to explain where we're going without making the conversation last any longer than it has to.

In the trial I felt like I had too many four-drops, so I cut the third Kess. Chandra was good for me, I still wanted it. It doesn't have the raw power of Jace, but dodges Pyroblast and does a lot more when your opponent has threats in play. I bring the Shattering Spree in from the sideboard and add another anti-dredge card. This is half strategy and half emotional regulation. Win or lose, you never feel like you ran too much dredge hate. At this point I'm optimizing for a lack of regret later, rather than match wins.

My first round opponent was my last round opponent from Old School. I feel more excited than I should. Does he know who I am? He will now. Sure, yesterday he had a better deck and he played better than me and he was nothing but friendly, but he's in my house now. Kess quickly defeats Blue Moon. Inwardly I feel like justice has been served and our story's true hero is triumphant. Outwardly we're both very friendly. I wonder what he's thinking.

Round two is the first round of coverage and I'm called up for the feature match. Randy is excited about the Kess deck I described yesterday and wants to get it on camera. Part of me feels proud to be first on camera. Another part of me realizes that Randy knows Rich and Andy will have plenty of chances to be on camera later. Round two is probably his last chance to feature an undefeated Kess deck.

My opponent has no idea who I am, and he's confused but very excited that his match was selected. He seems nervous to be on camera - he's never had a feature match before. It occurs to me that it would be in my best interest to keep him nervous, but I do my best to calm him down. We chat about the metagame in Orlando and how long we've been playing. I'm unsure if I'm being nice, or I'm just uncomfortable around people who are upset. I'm unsure if there's any difference between those two things.

My opening hand is great for the camera. Turn one Chandra, Torch of Defiance, on the play. The crowd will love this. My opponent is on Dredge and easily beats me.

My game two hand is basically unbeatable. Five sideboard cards and mana. As my opponent mulligans to one card, I get visibly upset.

I know all about the Gambler's Fallacy, but my brain stem doesn't quite get it. In my core I know that the match is over. I know that a dredge opponent will always mulligan themselves out of one game, and you'll always get an unbeatable hand in one game. If those things happen in two separate games, you win the match. if they happen in the same game, you lose.

In game three I've already decided I should lose. I keep a weak six just to be sure.

They bring the winner over for a post-match interview, but they mention they might want to talk to me on camera later because my deck is so "unique". Unique means bad, but I'll take it.

At the TMD Open, a tournament now held in a VFW building that serves $3 Gin and Tonics, I developed the "strategy" of having one drink every match loss. This tends to scale well. At one drink and one loss, you're not really playing any worse, but it takes the edge off of the extra pressure of not losing again. At two losses and two drinks, you're out of contention for top 8, but in contentions for prizes, and two drinks is just about enough to stop you from getting tilted without totally hosing your play. At 3 losses and 3 drinks, you've had a bad magic day but you're having a great time.

Eternal Weekend, however, is not held in a VFW, and I suspect outside alcohol is frowned upon. As I stand in a convention center bathroom stall, pouring a bottle of scotch into a cup of soda, I wonder if maybe I've taken the idea too far. I slip, and I end up with about a half ounce in my drink and three ounces on my shirt. Scotch, of course, is not a subtle drink, and Ardbeg is not a subtle scotch. I leave the bathroom smelling strongly of peat. I remember my 11AM drink with Randy the day before, and I decide not to actively seek out the coverage staff.

My round three opponent is on workshops. I lose a close game one, win game two with a quick Energy Flux blowout, and lose a close game three at one life, drawing a Scalding Tarn instead of the Volcanic Island that would have won the match.

I didn't expect to top 8, but I'm out of contention earlier than I predicted. Unexpectedly, I'm not tilted yet, so I decide I'll keep playing until the games get boring.

My round four opponent is on Two-Card Monte. My metagamed list has no enchantment removal so I have zero ways to answer Leyline of the Void / Helm of Obedience. He beats me in three games, but decides he doesn't want to spend the rest of the day playing, so he drops and gives me the win.

I beat BUG, making me feel comfortable about my loss the day before, but lose to Mentor, taking me out of prize contention. I decide that drinking after every loss is not a viable plan if you don't drop after three. Next I beat Rector Flash, which is exciting to see, and finally I lose to Delver.

My results are objectively bad, but the deck still feels good. Every loss has been close, and every match has been fun. I feel like I could play the last two rounds, but by now almost everyone I know has left the venue or is busy battling for top 8.

After round 8 I chat with Klep, who I've known since almost the beginning, and only get to see once a year. He's getting hungry and it feels like a good time to go.

Team Serious has gathered at a hotel down the street. Klep and I make our way over. I have the room number, but it's easy to hear where it is from the hallway. The crowded, warmly lit room stands in stark contrast to the massive, sterile convention hall I just left.

I enter the room and Duane shouts "Hey Brass Man, do you know what time it is?".

The other conversations lull for a moment, and another voice adds, "Yeah Brass Man, do you know what time it is?"

I scan the room, feeling at once both very welcomed and very confused. I notice a table carpeted in red Solo cups with an inch of dark liquid inside each.

"Yangtime?"

"Yangtime!" the room erupts in chorus. A Yangtime is what Team Serious calls a Jaegerbomb. The origin of the term an esoteric reference to team-member Jerry Yang, but I've heard conflicting stories on exactly what that reference is. I suspect that no one on the team actually likes drinking Yangtimes, they just love the name. Terrible drinks with fun names are a Team Serious tradition. There are many others.

A cup is poured for almost everyone in the room. Klep doesn't drink, which in this crowd I suspect is a very good idea. Josh has had enough but doesn't know it yet. He's given a cup with just Red Bull, which is a completely different color than everyone else's drink. He doesn't notice.

Jimmy and Brady are playing high stakes vintage on the bed. The loser has to change their username for a month. The argument over where we will eat dinner gets more animated. Is the Starlite lounge still open? What time is it? Is it Yangtime again? It's Yangtime again.

A return to Emporio loses the vote to the Pierogi Bar. The trip there must have taken a while, because by the time we arrive it's already Yangtime again.

Someone orders me a beer which tastes remarkably like Chocolate and Peanut Butter. I don't enjoy it at all, but I finish it out of fascination.

The pierogis are amazing, we order dozens of varieties. I can't keep track of which have meat and which don't, but I love all of them. A Yangtime or two later I'm unsure if I could tell the difference anyway.

We take Lyfts back to the room, but the last car is too full, so I have to call my own. When I arrive things are already in full swing. Yangtime again? Oh, alright.

Eric, still hungry after a long day of magic, eats a Rice Krispy treat off of the counter, unaware of the green mana inside. He'll sleep for 12 hours and avoid the worst of the night. I drink glass after glass of water, trying to level out. One of the primary differences between adults and children, I think, is the amount of water they have while over-drinking.

Magic players chain-smoke cigarettes on the roof deck, as conversation shifts from the top 8 to finally catching up with old friends. Champs is over now and we can all relax.

Jimmy has brought a box of old Vintage Champs top 8 decks. We all decide it would be fun to play a tournament, and argue very loudly over how to handle pairings. I defeat Carl Winter's Psychatog deck with Roland Chang's Five-Color Stax. I feel like a 20 year old kid and remember being so bad and so excited to play.

As the caffeine tapers off, Duane and I have had about three Yangtimes too many. We wander up to the now empty roofdeck, drunk and weepy. We talk about losing magic matches, and feeling bad about losing magic matches, and feeling even worse about caring about whether or not we lose magic matches. We talk about how somehow, while we weren't looking, this became a thing that was important to us. It's clear that we mean magic both literally and as an metaphor for something else, but neither of us is totally sure what.

I have another glass of water and head to sleep, bracing for the following morning.

Saturday

I wake up quite late, in neither the best, nor worst shape of the team. My head is alright, but my stomach hurts and I'm tired and my body is sore all over. Some of us have already left to play legacy, and I'm relieved I didn't bring a deck.

I eat a handful of cold, leftover pierogi's for breakfast. My mouth thinks it's a great idea but my stomach isn't so sure. I head to the convention center, maybe around noon. I spend the afternoon talking with friends about how they did the day before. I run into one of the top 8 competitors who's looking for a test partner. We proxy up a copy of his opponent's deck and play Oath vs Workshops for a few hours. I'm half-sick and half-asleep and playing even more poorly than usual. I'm sure I'm not being my usual friendly self, but he's still grateful for the games. It feels about 50-50. He's just going to need to draw a better hand than the other guy.

There's one more vintage side event I can fit in before the weekend is over. The games haven't stopped being fun yet, so I sign up. I've returned the Chandra I borrowed so I replace it with a Painful Truths.

My first round is Workshops. Again, the games are close, but I lose. I feel like plan is where it should be, but it's not lost on me that I'm running more Mental Missteps than Energy Fluxes. It's unclear to me whether I like my sideboard plan because it's working, or I just think it's working because I like it. I can't find the pattern in my games, but I feel that I'm getting closer. I'm unsure whether "getting closer" means I'm getting better or worse at recognizing patterns.

My next round I'm paired against Ruben Gonzales. I've never met Ruben but I've been following his tournament results for years. He's a consistent high finisher in Spain and always runs lists I wish I had made. A dozen times I've talked about testing a card, and I'll find out he won an event with it a week earlier. In a small group of friends we've given him the nickname "Spanish Brass Man." I don't tell him this, as I'm unsure how he'd take it. Appropriately enough, he's on Grixis Thieves, a deck very close to what I'm running.

Having never met him, I'm pleased to find that he's friendly and polite, an excellent player. We play a close match. He has more game-ending haymakers and he'd probably win a long game, but Young Pyromancers steal a lot of early tempo. I win, but just barely, ending the game well behind on cards.

The last two rounds are similar. A win against Mentor and another Grixis Thieves deck. Pyromancer and Kess do real work here, and I wonder if the edge they're giving me might free up some more space against Workshop decks.

I end the event X-1, a perfect record, and pick out some Japanese Eternal Masters packs with my prize points.

By now Team Serious is in between bars, far from the convention center. I can try and catch up but there's no guarantee they'll be there when I arrive. Klep has long since left to help Andy, Brian, and Rich test against each other for their top 8 matches.

I run into Akash, a friend from Boston, and get dinner with two of his friends. Conversations with non-vintage magic players are an uncanny valley. The cadence is the same, the card names are different. As an outsider, all of their metagame problems with modern and legacy seem obvious and petty, which make you instantly realize yours must be, too.

I order crab risotto and I'm unsure if I'm allergic to it. I'm not allergic to crab, but I am allergic to shellfish, and I start to wonder if crabs live anywhere near Pittsburg and my throat starts to itch, but it's easier to stop eating than it is to ask the waiter and how hungry am I, really?

We finish eating and the table next to us gets seated, eats, pays, and leaves before we flag someone who isn't our waiter down and beg for the check.

When I arrive back at the room, the team has moved to a busy street not far from the house. I could catch up, but I'm not sure my 33 year old body can handle the night they're having right now. Not if I have to get on a plane tomorrow.

I stay up a bit. Read a little. Fall asleep just as the group turns up.

Sunday

When I wake up Sunday morning, everyone is fast asleep. I head to the roofdeck and play some Dragon Quest. I'm getting less interested in grindy games like this, I think, but in the moment it's easy and comfortable and the perfect thing to pass the time while I take in the morning and wait for people to get up. When I head downstairs, people have left and are getting ready to leave. Only Jimmy is open to getting breakfast, which tastes good, but takes much too long.

Back at the venue I live-Tweet a match where a Vintage Lands player utterly takes apart a Workshop deck, but gets unlucky and loses at the last minute. I decide I need to test the deck some time.

As Klep and I walk from the convention on our way to leave, I think about leaving convention centers with him 10 years ago. "We've been at this a long time, haven't we?" He nods.

On the ride to the airport, Mike talks with the the driver about Football strategy. I'm completely lost and I know this is what we sounded like to the Muggles in every bar we visited this weekend.

The Pittspurgh International Airport is a starfish, with terminals for arms and a central hub. Jon, Eric and I meet at a martini bar in the middle. With an hour remaining, the conversation turns back to magic.

We're excited about seeing each other again to play in two months. We talk about the new metagame. Jon wants to know how new decks will adapt to Workshops and I want to know if the results are going to make Oath more popular. We come up with a dozen decks that we'd like to play in a post-Champs field, we talk about how we can win more matches next year. We pay for our drinks and part ways.

As I walk to my terminal alone, I can see it so clearly. Just a few more test games. Just move a card from here to there. Just one more mulligan. Just one more sideboard card and all those losses turn into wins.

Soon I'll be home and my workshop matchup won't matter.

Soon I'll be home and I'll have real work and real responsibilities and real problems and real successes that come at real costs.

But for one beautiful moment it's just inches away, and the rules are clear and the goal is straightforward and all I have to do is try just a little harder next time and everything will be perfect.