Tuesday, April 17, 2012


"I feel bad when I play that deck," he said to me after what I thought was a pretty solid game of Commander. His was a Saffi deck, abusing it with cards like Deathrender to give him an ever-present army. The usual suspects made the list: Stoneforge Mystic, Elesh Norn, Privileged Position, Argentum Armor, Sword of Feast and Famine, Linvala, etc. It took him awhile but he won that game through a couple solid board wipes. I felt OK about things myself, probably missing one play but otherwise doing pretty well, timing my plays mostly correctly, making the best of my resources. Everyone was nice so that's a pretty solid game, to me.

He seemed to want to talk about my deck but didn't know where to start. "You've got some powerful cards there but..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say next because, despite being told three times that it was a junky legend deck (Child of Alara with every legend I have that isn't doing anything right now which is a lot) he didn't seem to believe me. Or his own experience.

I shrugged, told him my deck was there to play stuff that didn't get seen otherwise. It's not that I wouldn't've liked advice but what is he going to tell me that meshes with my philosophy? I don't really care about winning in Commander, I care more about not losing with weird cards that nobody plays.

In the back of my mind, though, I couldn't help thinking: If playing a deck makes you feel bad, why are you playing it?

And: What is it about my attempt to have fun that puzzles you so?

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