It just so happened that on the weekend of Jan. 25-26, there would be the Gatecrash pre-release for Magic. Every year, Magic releases four new sets of cards. The LCS's and other shops have events called pre-releases where, at midnight, people can get one of these new sets a week before they are officially released and play in a tournament with them. The more Chris explained, the more fascinated I became. Through various discussions with him, I've come to learn that Magic is a pretty expensive hobby with certain cards being worth $1,000 or more. This sounded ridiculous to me but he informed me that the LCS has a card worth $400-600. After explaining more about this pre-release and tournament, I knew I had to witness it first hand. It was like some bizarre ritual from a subculture of life. My curiosity was peaked. I couldn’t pass it up.
I show up around 10:30 p.m. and the LCS is getting pretty full. Tables are set up in long stretches and people are playing Magic and talking in small groups. The closer we get to midnight, the more people show up. At the last pre-release Chris said that 90 people showed up. I'm prepared for the worst. I’m approaching this as non-judgmental as I can be, trying to view it as something akin to an anthropological study. Being non-judgmental is hard enough for me under the best of circumstances so I keep reminding myself to keep an open mind.
I think the most surprising aspect of the night is the various kinds of people that show up. Some are overly fat and some are painfully thin. Some look like the stereotypical guys who would play Magic but there is a surprising number of different looking people here. Two hipster looking guys show up. The one is wearing tight salmon color jeans and has a skunk bleach streak through his hair. The other is in tight jeans and has perfectly tousled hair. There's a group of guys all wearing Aggies football/basketball t-shirts and hoodies, looking like they just came from the student section of a game. One white guy has cornrows, I swear to god. Most are sporting facial hair at various levels of success. One guy has an epic waxed mustache that is curled to perfection. A handful of guys have longer of hair than I do. A painful number of them remind me of exes. One in particular, named Atticus, looks eerily like an ex whom I used to call Atticus as a joke. There's more than a few married couples here, one with an infant. Others sport wedding rings but left the wife at home, I guess. Ages range from old and bald with flood pants to teenagers with long, greasy hair and baby faces. I am one of nine women.
The table tops are scattered with assortments of junk food, ranging from powdered donuts to granola bars. Energy drinks abound. This seems to be a staple at these events. They're mostly the large, brightly colored kind you see lining a gas station drink selection but I see a few Red Bulls and a couple 5-Hour Energy drinks. People sit on both sides of the long stretches of tables, chatting about their cards that they show off in binders, flipbooks or in individual protective plastic sleeves.
As I listen to the conversations, I try to make sense of what they're saying. It's a hopeless task. While I understand a majority of the individual words, combining them makes them seem like gibberish. My native companions make an attempt to teach me how this game is played. After watching a few games, I'm thoroughly confused, only having a vague recollection of the key terms Chris taught me earlier like tap and mana. Chris explained that Magic is a game that is easy to learn but difficult to master, not a comforting thought considering how hopelessly lost I already am. I related this statement to both NC Leah & Bryanne. They agree, admitting that they still have trouble with parts.
Out of the 85 players, only seven are women. The one with the infant has it strapped to her chest in one of those complicated streatchy fabric deals. I say infant because the thing can't be more than 2 months old. I try not to judge but it's nearly midnight and that baby needs to be in bed, not in a comic book store strapped to its mama's chest.
Midnight finally comes with with a final warning to register from the judge, whose name I have learned is Jeremy. He has come up from the store in Ogden to oversee this tournament. Being the judge, he has the final say in any questions the players may have in the tournament. I don't know how long Jeremy has been doing this but I assume it's a lot if his word is law when it comes to Magic tournament questions.
Midnight comes and goes with Chris and Judge Jeremy calling out names to give out and double check DCI numbers. I later find out DCI numbers are like a “social security number” for Magic. It's an identification number from the official sanctioning body for all competitive play in Magic. I didn't even know there was such a thing. This is the other thing I is most surprising to me. Magic is a BIG FREAKING DEAL.
Judge Jeremy then officially begins the evening by welcoming everyone and then explaining the different guilds that will be handed out in a few moments. There are five new guilds, Simic, Gruul, Boros, Orzhov, and Dimir. Judge Jeremy goes on to explain the different “mechanics” of each guild. He says things like “When you cast a spell, you can pay a black or white” or “You cannot pay for multiple triggers” or “....encode the spell on a creature.” Again, all those words make sense individually but by combining them, I have no idea what he is talking about. While Judge Jeremy is announcing the different guilds, the members of the different guilds talk trash to one another. I guess competitiveness isn't just for sports.
The players are then instructed to open their guild boxes and it's like Christmas. Random cheers spring up when someone gets a really good card with a few jealous taunts issued in return. “Goddamnits” escape when the cards aren't as favorable.
Talk reduces to low murmurs as people take a closer examination of their cards, trying to figure out strengths and weakness of their packs. Each guild box came with five packs of cards, a set of dice and a sticker with the guild logo on it. One older man who looks like David Cross (I swear to god) will eventually stick that sticker on his bald forehead, managing to look even more stupid and ridiculous than he already does. People compare their cards saying “I've got...” and then say something that sounds like a word J.R.R. Tolkein made up.
Eventually, Chris and Judge Jeremy put up the tournament starting matches up, one list at the front of the room and another at the back. You find out who you're playing by finding out what table marker you're suppose to be at. They go up to 43. Despite announcing this, people come up asking who they are playing. That is when I notice one player is walking around without shoes. Maybe it's just one of my pet peeves but a grown-ass adult should never remove their shoes and walk around in a public place barefooted. Despite my best efforts to keep an open mind, this guy manages to get on my “judged harshly” list.
The tournament officially begins. Each match is the best out of three. The winner is suppose to come up and write their name on this piece of paper and state how they won, i.e. 2-0 or 2-1. It's not a single elimination type of tournament and everyone is guaranteed at least four rounds of play. After that, eliminations begin. People come up and start writing their names. I find out a man wearing patriotic sweat pants (the kind with the stars on one leg and the stripes on the other. He is also wearing a fanny pack, I swear to god) has traveled up from Salt Lake to attend this tournament with his brother, who currently lives in Logan. Some players comment to Chris or Judge Jeremy on the specifics of how they won, using words I don't understand.
Unfortunately, this is where my observations had to end. It’s nearing 2 a.m. and I have to work in the morning. I say goodbye to Chris and native companions Andrew, Bryanne and Leah, and to Judge Jeremy though I don't think he even knew who I was. I put on my coat and gloves, preparing myself for the cold. The tournament is going to continue on into the night, finishing up at 6 a.m. There is going to be an additional two pre-releases/tournaments the next day, with Chris only getting a few hours of sleep in between since he has to open the store at 11 a.m. I leave feeling tired and bewildered.
Love you.
Mean it.
There were a few grammatical errors and it's 'piqued' not 'peaked'. Also babies that young prefer to sleep on their mothers. It's less of a transition from the womb. It took about 3 months until my baby liked to sleep laying down flat.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you explored this universe. Like you, I've never delved into that world, too dorky for me. But many of my friends (and many of my exes too) have been into the tournaments. I never really understood it. It's nice to see another look at it that came to roughly the same conclusion that I did but offers some now insights.