A Middle-Aged Guy's Year-End Diary After Stumbling into Competitive Play

Note: This article was translated from Chinese by AI and may contain errors. Read the original Chinese version.

December 15, 2024

Evening, around six o’clock, I think? I honestly can’t remember clearly. I’m thirty-seven after all, and I’ve had to start admitting I’m getting old; my concentration has really dropped a lot.

子安 and I walked out of CardMaster together, planning to head to the MOS Burger across the street to meet up with 柏宇. cephille and Jeff were heading toward Nanmen Market and said goodbye to us. A picture suddenly flashed through my mind, a meaningless imagining: Jru didn’t come because of a cold. If he had been here, would today’s result have been a little different?

子安 and 柏宇 are friends I met through the Conquest format, and we hang out from time to time, playing around with all kinds of formats. It was around August, I think? I pushed 子安 and 柏宇 together into the Modern MITQ scene. 柏宇’s Boros Energy quickly shone; 子安 went through quite a few emotional ups and downs, and made top 4 once with Izzet Murktide; and I slowly polished two homebrew Budget Decks (poor man’s decks), finally getting to a 50-50 against the then-most-mainstream Boros Energy by the end of the season, though my best result was only 2-2-2 (two wins, two losses, two draws). This game is really hard.

For a while I struggled so much I nearly went mad, but somehow I got used to the feeling of being the underdog, and without realizing it I became very calm. There was nothing to lose anyway. Gradually I could enjoy the pleasure of playing again, and even began to figure out a quirky style of play that suits me if you don’t lose, you have a chance to win.

I didn’t say any of this to 子安 and 柏宇 in particular, but I believe they could feel it to some degree.

I found 柏宇 on the second floor of MOS Burger. He’s easy to spot; we’ve seen that broad back countless times. 柏宇 is still waiting and watching this season. Everyone has their own life to deal with, so he’s not competing in Standard for the time being. Of course, this doesn’t affect our friendship at all; nobody falls out of the group because of it.

The three of us sat down at an affordable pasta restaurant, and after ordering and chatting idly for a bit, we slowly fell silent. It wasn’t that we had nothing to say; we simply knew each other too well, so well that we could relax around each other and rest a little.

I started to get lost in my own thoughts.

I thought of two young players, 彥融 and 啟恩. We always chat a few words when we meet at tournaments, and occasionally in private too. This week they fought their way from Taichung all the way to Taipei. At the CardMaster MITQ, I happened to play 彥融 in round six, and his faint dark circles said it all. Everyone has to eat, everyone should sleep, and they’re all heartfelt rivals.

Congratulations to 彥融 for qualifying at 鬥樂一中店 this week. Hard work pays off but still take care of your liver. His seriousness and skill are plain for all to see, and it’s a blessing to know a young person like that.

As I rolled my neck, I caught 子安 out of the corner of my eye.

We’ve run into each other twice at MITQ. The first time was last season in Modern, when my mono-black discard faced his Izzet Murktide Regent deck. I was on the draw, and right after playing my first land I immediately cast Thoughtseize. Seeing that he had no land in hand, I discarded Lórien Revealed without hesitation, trying to stall his game right there, but on the next turn 子安 immediately drew a land and kept running smoothly, while my board and my mental state collapsed all the way. I knew he’d brought only 16 lands that day, with 1 on the battlefield, so the odds of topdecking a land were just 15 / 53, but that’s how things go. Someone wins the lottery jackpot, so there’s nothing to complain about.

At the time I kept a faint smile as best I could, but inside I still felt a little down. So I guessed 子安 probably felt the same way today.

“Whose is the Golden Garlic Mixed Seafood Risotto?” The waiter’s voice pulled me back to reality.
”…What did you order?” I asked 子安. In fact I hadn’t heard a word of that string of words.
“Not mine.” He was firm.
“I think it’s mine?”
“You don’t even remember what you ordered?” 柏宇 scolded me.
“Thank you.” Anyway, I nodded to the waiter first. “Come on, I’m thirty-seven, it’s normal.”
“Don’t scare me, I’ll be thirty-seven someday too,” 子安 said.
In fact we’ve had conversations like this many times, and that I do remember.
“子安, do you eat shrimp?” I asked.
“I’m allergic.”
“Right. 柏宇, do you eat shrimp? Take it, I’m allergic too.”
“Why order mixed seafood if you don’t eat shrimp?” 柏宇 scolded me again.
“I think I ticked the wrong box. I meant to order the shrimp balls with clams next to it. Never mind.”
“So shrimp balls won’t cause an allergy?”
“I’m willing to take a little risk for pineapple shrimp balls.”

Although 柏宇 has a sharp tongue and is often in roast mode, he’s the gentlest of the three of us. 柏宇 always notices our needs, even offering resources before others ask, and he’s happy to step up and take action for his friends. Without him, I wouldn’t have the Urabrask’s Forge in my deck, and without Urabrask’s Forge, I couldn’t have beaten 子安 today, because 子安’s deck also has Urabrask’s Forge. Earlier, before the result was settled, we were laughing as we shared a single token and beat each other up…

When I played that day’s runner-up, we had a blast with this token too until he won two games in a row in a comeback and smashed my head in, sigh.

The three of us started chatting idly again, and bursts of laughter rose and fell. I said this season’s Standard is really hard. 4-2-0 (four wins, two losses) only got me 11th place, missing the top-8 playoff. Mainly because turnout was huge; if I remember right, 45 players took part, and the competition was intense.

My Rakdos Skeleton deck and I didn’t seem to have done anything wrong. Did we? The more I think about it, the less sure I am. Maybe the deck itself… is a mistake?

I’d poured out the same self-pitying complaints earlier to my senior 蹦蹦, who patted my arms lightly and said quietly, “Keep going next time.” Those few words, together with the earlier chance to interview him and the many times I’ve seen his resilient mindset in pulling off win streaks after two losses, made me glad that I bravely picked up Magic: The Gathering at thirty-five, and that I got to know these people. Of course, next time we keep going. I tried to convince myself: this was only my second time going out to play a Standard tournament, so it could count as a satisfying result.

A big reason I can keep going is also that the tournament atmosphere in the north is good. I can’t say whose credit it is, but promoting exchange has always been Guildmages’ Forum’s goal, and being in the middle of it, I’m of course very happy. In one round at CardMaster, I sat next to the well-known Taipei player SamuelChang, listening to him talking with young players, and I thought he was trying, within reason, to convey the logic and importance of a few details. Everyone has a different social circle, but the desire to promote this game can’t be hidden. Once there’s been contact, today’s active players will at least greet each other, and things seem to be getting better and better.

I couldn’t help recalling the tournament at Magic Star a week ago, where I chose to play Azorius enchantments, a deck I had poured a lot of effort and love into. No teammates were there that day, and it was my first time in a Standard competition. Since I was really unfamiliar with the environment, in a daze I made two major mistakes (with Enduring Curiosity on the battlefield, I drew three fewer cards at damage resolution; and I put three fewer +1/+1 counters before and after Optimistic Scavenger, and in the end I happened to miss winning by just three life), so I could only barely slide into the top 8 with a 2-0-3 record (two wins, zero losses, three draws), and then immediately ascended to heaven, leaving a regretful “the deck was stronger than the player” ending.

Even so, that day I had plenty of exchange with Allen, whom I’d met briefly once before, and sertyple, whom I met on site. The two even helped watch my games, and I’m truly grateful. Looking back, it’s exactly these friendly-rival relationships that shifted the center of Magic exchange from some BBS board to the real world. I truly believe the environment now really is much better and much more fun.

When I came to my senses, I had followed 子安 and 柏宇’s footsteps to 牌塔. Fine, I really should find out just how terrifying 牌塔 is (the “牌塔 is really scary” meme can be found on the fan page Jund Uncle’s Daily Life).

子安 has always had a habit: once he gets his paycheck, he starts thinking about how to reward himself. He seemed to be seeking a thrill when we arrived at 牌塔. I couldn’t be bothered with him and didn’t want to persuade him anymore, so I wandered around by myself. I accidentally glimpsed the box art of BUILE DIVIDE’s “My Dress-Up Darling” and my gaze lingered a little longer than it should, just a little. That anime really is great, and so is the heroine.

It was this cover that told me 牌塔 is a little scary after all…

Even so, the three of us bought nothing in the end, and our wallets held the line. I think it’s not that other card games are bad; it’s that all our hearts are still full of Magic: The Gathering. We walked back the way we’d come. After a dozen or so minutes, 子安 climbed the stairs to CardMaster as naturally as walking into his own home, which was downright baffling.

“Wait, what are you going up there for?” I immediately stopped him from going further up.
”…I don’t know either.” He laughed. I could see he was just a fool deeply attracted to cards.
“Unless you’re going to pick up the pieces for Golgari midrange, there’s no point. Why not check the prices first?”
“I’d better not buy today.”
“You sure?”
“Sure.”
“So what do we do now?”
”…”
”…”
”…”

This is the kind of moment when it’s time to go home, and we all knew it.
Back on the sidewalk, 子安, who hadn’t ridden a scooter, was to head to the MRT station, while 柏宇 and I went to find our own scooters.

“Home, then?”
“Probably home.”
“I’m going that way, to the MRT station.”
“Bye.”
“See you again.”
“Yeah.”

柏宇 and I walked left together; it seems our scooters were parked in about the same direction. He put on his Bluetooth earphones. I know 柏宇 always has something playing, because we’re that close as card friends.

子安 is a smart person, but there are too many smart people, and being smart isn’t the main reason I’m close to him. Under his cool tone is actually considerable passion, and that’s the most important trait. Before we formally stepped into competitive play, he had already become reasonably familiar with the fine details of the rules. To me, that stuff is both dull and complicated, and I don’t have the time or energy to sort it out piece by piece. Thanks to him often playing the role of teacher, I’ve been able to keep improving at this game and come this far.

At this moment another line from my senior 蹦蹦 popped into my head: “Practice never lies.” Those few words move me deeply. Because close friends joined me for video practice, I was able to surpass my previous-season self.

I’ve wondered before why 柏宇, 子安, and I have this level of closeness. Maybe it’s because Magic: The Gathering is just so deep? So deep that we have to keep discussing and verifying with each other to keep playing, and in the process of supporting each other, we naturally walked into each other’s lives.

So I suddenly remembered something 子安 has always wanted to play and that we hadn’t played yet.

“Hey hey hey, hey!” I shouted. “How far is it from here to 貓腳印東門店?”
“What did you say?” 柏宇 took off his earphones.
“How about going to 貓腳印東門店 to play Foundations Jumpstart? 子睿 the store manager is running an event, so we can kill some time and maybe win prizes too.”
“Oh, I’m fine with that.”
“Hey! 張子安!”
We told 子安 to take the MRT to Dongmen Station, because there were only two helmets and none for him, so he had to walk to the MRT station on his own after all.

Half an hour later, the three of us had assembled at 貓腳印東門店. Although the store manager wasn’t there (we later learned 子睿 was on a business trip in the south at the time and happened to be run into by our own MiohitoKiri5474, which just goes to show how small the world is), the super affordable, super fun, awesome deal was still run smoothly.

We agreed that after opening our packs, we’d look only at the themes and not at the card contents. The first match was me against 柏宇. I opened a combination of black gross bugs plus red Goblins, while 柏宇 had green landfall plus white lifegain. At three lands I slammed down Krenko, Tin Street Kingpin right on time, and the next turn another Scavenged Blade, quickly hitting for 4 and making four 1 / 1 Goblins. One turn later, 柏宇 seemed to think his hand couldn’t handle my massive horde of small fry and conceded, with a somewhat grave expression.

After playing Scavenged Blade, I actually also used Go for the Throat to kill 柏宇’s creature, successfully clearing the way for Krenko, Tin Street Kingpin, and then tried hard not to laugh too obviously.

Even though it was just a fun format with a heavy luck component, we still played very seriously and experienced it with care. I think players who dig deep into Magic: The Gathering surely all have the traits of a Warring States-era ronin swordsman: only after competing properly with an opponent and going through the trial can they accept the self that did its best. This is, after all, a game with “fighting spirit,” and all kinds of emotions naturally surge up, because we’ve invested so much effort and time.

After the emotions fade, we laugh and chat with each other again. I know this well, because we’ve gone through this many times already.

The second match was 柏宇 against 子安. I didn’t care how it went; I was truly tired. Rather than wanting to play cards, I was really just extending my time with friends.

I took the chance to open the team’s Discord channel. I saw cephille sharing today’s results with everyone: he was 9th and I was 11th, truly a solidly woeful team. Bad luck becomes a funny story once it’s been tempered by time. I began to find it funny, and thought this wasn’t bad: nearly full, but not quite. Jru joined the chat; his cold seemed to have improved a bit, which is great.

I really love this website and this team founded by MiohitoKiri5474. In November 2023, before The Lost Caverns of Ixalan came out, I became interested in sealed events after discovering that the prerelease kit actually came with a bonus card (yes, I just wanted a small freebie, and that’s what pulled me in deeper and deeper). Doing some research before the tournament was my first connection with Guildmages’ Forum. Without MiohitoKiri5474’s whim, there would be no connection or stories between me and everyone.

I also really liked today’s MITQ match against 子安, naturally because I won and successfully cleared my name.

“In the future, we should play a match the night before a tournament, and if we get paired against each other on site, just report that result and use the time to rest,” I said, squeezing out a smile while shuffling.
“No,” 子安 didn’t even look at me. “The condition is different.”
I figured my idle chatter hadn’t achieved anything, so all that was left was to focus on the match.

Game one: 子安’s board lacked quality creatures, with only a few 1 / 1 Fish tokens made by Fountainport standing the whole way through, while my Skeletons were removed one after another by 子安. I held one Go for the Throat tightly in my hand, quietly watching a school of small fish push my life total down to 4. Only then did I finally spend that last Go for the Throat, but it was too late, and 子安 broke through.

“I really think this was the best game I’ve played recently,” 子安 said contentedly, looking thrilled.

I agreed. It was an awkward, slow, but also brilliant game, a psychological war of watching each other rarely do anything. Should I have spent Go for the Throat earlier? Would the result have been different? No, I don’t think I misplayed. It was just bad draw luck, and I really should have held on to removal to guard against threats other than the Fish tokens.

I took game two. As I recall, I simply had a smoother draw than 子安, so there’s not much to say.

Game three was our final showdown. The offense began with 子安 slamming down Urabrask’s Forge right on time. Looking at the smugness he couldn’t hide on his face, I also immediately played Urabrask’s Forge on my turn, which is the forge-versus-forge scenario mentioned earlier. We laughed, using the same hand-drawn token to beat each other up, and players nearby probably all paid some attention to our game. The interaction between Urabrask’s Forge and Fountainport was simply too good, and during the heavy assault it also let me draw enough cards. In the end, when 子安 tried to destroy my Urabrask’s Forge with an Abrade, I responded with Untimely Malfunction targeting his Urabrask’s Forge, and that settled the game.

“I should have gone to destroy it during the last end step…” 子安 said, looking a bit regretful. “I did think of the possibility of Untimely Malfunction once, but after doing something else I overlooked it.”
“This was the best game I’ve played recently,” I said in my mind, but didn’t tell him out loud. “And I’m glad my opponent this match was you.”

One all. If there’s an unwillingness to accept it, that means we can still keep going.

In my eyes, 張子安 really has gotten stronger, because the time he stays stuck in dejection keeps getting shorter. The essence of competitive play is actually a long marathon of getting past frustration.

Since I started taking part in competitive events, I’ve kept every match’s life-total sheet.

“Hey, it’s your turn.” The 柏宇 in reality called me.
“Who won?” I asked.
“柏宇,” 子安 said expressionlessly.

Finally it was my turn to play 子安, match after match. I drew white Cats tribal plus blue artifact synergy, while 子安 opened black Vampires and black graveyard recursion. 子安’s early aggression was fiercer, but in the end I overtook him with Shimmer Dragon’s ruthless, crazy card-draw ability and won the match.

“That’s basically cheating,” 子安 complained. “Ugh, Magic is telling me not to play cards.”

I ignored him. I knew we’d be practicing again in the video world next Wednesday, because this game is just that fun. No, it’s not even just a game, but a medium that leads us to break through ourselves and make friends.

After claiming our prizes, this time we really broke up and went our separate ways home.

After a whole day out fighting and playing, we left so many footprints, and they’ll all live on in my binder. By the way, 貓腳印東門店’s Foundations Jumpstart deal really is super affordable, super fun, awesome.

The night of 11th place was somewhat interesting, but not entirely pleasant.

On the ride home, I thought of the novel Hibana (Spark) by Naoki Matayoshi. Within the framework of competition, losers always outnumber winners, or rather, in the end there’s only one winner. If so, what is the point of everyone else’s existence?

I think that, beyond the competing and after the competition, northern Taiwan has already proven everything through its present state. The players have indeed built a culture that goes beyond winning and losing, and through more sincere communication, brought everyone together closer to the depths of this game.

If, in the distant future, this land can produce another World Champion, that person will surely be a winner jointly forged by the competitive pressure each of us has invested. That glory belongs to them, but also to each of us who, from this year on, has tried to be a little kinder to the environment around us.

So, dear fellow players, close friends and strangers alike, we keep going next time, and next year.