Writing this, I’m not sure whether this qualifies as a nightmare. I guess I’ll let you be the judge.

This is an actual, nonfiction dream I had. It woke me up at six in the morning.

Here we go.

I was at an indeterminate Grand Prix. I was doing all right: X–1 and deep into Day 1 if memory serves. I was walking around, and at a table, minding their own business, I saw Aaron Forsythe and Brian David-Marshall sitting across from an empty chair to the left of Mike Flores. Seeing these three men whom I look up to, who each represent (and do it very well) different things that all still fall under the umbrella of Magic: The Gathering, I made an executive decision.

I strolled right up and sat down in the chair to Flores’s left. The table they were sitting at was very cluttered, but the only thing that stuck out to me that I can still remember was that there were six draft sets of Odyssey/Torment/Judgment among the mess. I took one look at them and said, “Oh, man, looks like you boys are going deep today!”

My boisterous observation was met with silence. During the two-second silence that felt like forever, I realized my hand was shaking, and I can’t stress enough how embarrassing it is to admit that.

Aaron Forsythe broke the silence with, “That seat’s actually for someone else; we’re actually going to start playing soon.”

That was really not how this decision went in my head. I distinctly remember thinking, “I thought I was way more charming than this.” All three pairs of eyes were on me, the person holding their seat hostage. I realized that, despite the circumstances—three men whom I look up to did not want me around—I was wielding considerable power. I needed to be careful with my demands; I couldn’t ask for too much, lest they become truly annoyed with me, but I didn’t want them to see me for the doormat I was as I slinked away with my tail between my legs.

I figured handshakes and a formal introduction would suffice. I offered my hand to Forsythe first: “My name is Jon Corpora; nice to meet you,” and went left, so the last person whose hand I shook was Flores’s. He asked,

“You’re feb first on Twitter, right?”

“Uh, feb31st, yeah.”

I heard a small, derisive snort from Forsythe and could feel a knowing smirk emanating from BDM. Not wanting to physically see their disapproval upon discovering who I actually was, I locked on to Flores.

“Do you know what it’s like to be you?” Michael J asked thoughtfully.

I felt my hand shake hard. This was not going well. In a desperate attempt to feign relaxedness, I put my hands behind my head and leaned back in my chair. I don’t think I have to tell you that I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Uh . . . no, I don’t, Mike.” I called him the familiar “Mike,” because when cornered by people I really admire, I become a blowhard asshole. “Can you fill me in?”

Mike tanked for a while before saying, “It’s . . . bad.”

My own lapse in reality control set in hard and fast. Somewhere off in the distance, I heard BDM and Forsythe laugh quietly. I tried to laugh with them, or at least smile—something, anything. Whether I was able to convince anyone I was comfortable with the proceedings is up for debate.

“Can you be more specific?” I tried to ask it with a smile in my voice, but Flores sensed the truth: This was important to me. So he tanked again before turning his back to me and showing me the logo on the back of his shirt.

“Do you see this?”

It wasn’t a StarCityGames shirt, but a shirt for some fictional MTG content site that my subconscious made up. Even recalling it, that detail’s a little strange. But that’s not really the point, though.

I nodded.

“The way you are headed, you will never get an endorsement, and endorsements are how people get by in this game. It’s how they meet people and network and move up the ladder, and your conduct is what keeps companies like this one (he was still indicating the logo on the back of his shirt) from ever wanting to even come near you. This is the goal.”

And as Flores said that last sentence, Ted Knutson had walked up (wearing a short-sleeved, button-down ChannelFireball shirt, oddly enough. Maybe this dream takes place in the future) and sat next to BDM. He punctuated Michael J’s dialogue by smiling at me, pointing to the logo on his shirt, and saying, “No touching!” a la Arrested Development.

Defeated, I slunk back in my chair, vaguely wondering how I was going to make it out of this seat with any dignity. I looked up at Teddy Card Game, and he was still smiling.

“Hey-o!” I said, in a vain attempt to brush it all off, and I went to shake Ted’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jon,” he said.

Yup, it was all my fault.

I probably should’ve looked up the date of that Pro Tour Qualifier a little sooner in advance. I should’ve remembered that the local game store in Rochester that PTQs are at is notorious for scheduling their PTQs for one Sunday and then arbitrarily shifting it up or down the calendar the closer to the event they get.

The thing about all the Friday Night Magic columns that have sprouted up all over the MTG content-osphere in the past year is that what sets them apart is the manner their authors have decided to shoot themselves in the foot. I’m no different in this regard; being forced to play a different deck every week, even at an infinite budget, is surely not the optimal play.

I guess I became tired of shooting myself in the foot. I wanted to give myself a chance to do something remarkable for a change (qualify for a Pro Tour) instead of giving myself a shot at something unremarkable (win an FNM).

What I did not get tired of was playing FNM. So don’t worry about that.

So I worked on Friday night.

People ask me all the time what I’m going to do after this, as though once 52 FNMs is done, my mission on earth will be complete and I’ll self-detonate or something. I’ll try to lay it out for you as simply as possible: If you are reading this paragraph, you aren’t reading this column because you really like FNM. Case in point: I said I didn’t play in FNM this week, but you kept right on reading. Maybe that’s because the FNMs aren’t what keeps bringing you back anymore.

Do I know what keeps bringing you guys back? Nope. Morbid curiosity is high on my list of guesses. My opinion is that 83% of my readers are Syracuse locals who don’t like me and just like reading about Jon Corpora losing FNM matches. So what about the other 17%? I honestly don’t know. If I did, I would’ve bottled it and sold it at K-Marts nationwide by now.

This is the list I played at the PTQ in Rochester:

"Wolf Run R/U/G by Reid Duke"

• Creatures (14)
• 1 Snapcaster Mage
• 2 Frost Titan
• 2 Phantasmal Image
• 2 Thragtusk
• 4 Primeval Titan
• 3 Solemn Simulacrum

• Spells (20)
• 1 Blasphemous Act
• 3 Bonfire of the Damned
• 4 Farseek
• 4 Ponder
• 4 Rampant Growth
• 4 Temporal Mastery

• Lands (26)
• 1 Mountain
• 4 Island
• 5 Forest
• 1 Inkmoth Nexus
• 1 Kessig Wolf Run
• 2 Cavern of Souls
• 4 Copperline Gorge
• 4 Glimmerpost
• 4 Hinterland Harbor

• Sideboard (15)
• 2 Thragtusk
• 2 Cavern of Souls
• 3 Crushing Vines
• 1 Blasphemous Act
• 2 Whipflare
• 1 Karn Liberated
• 2 Beast Within
• 2 Negate

Buy This Deck

I played Reid Duke’s exact list; didn’t change a single card. Coincidentally, I played a deck I’ve never played in my entire 51 weeks of playing FNM. It wasn’t my original plan—I had Bant Pod all queued up and ready to go—but I predicted a lot of Bonfire of the Damned and decided I didn’t want to give myself an ulcer worrying about that stupid card all day. So I decided to go over the top of everyone while also playing a deck with a powerful, linear strategy with a minimal number of difficult decisions to make. Plus, I really like Reid Duke. The way he approaches the game really appeals to me for reasons I don’t quite grasp, but this article he wrote got me off Bant Pod the Thursday before the PTQ. In this case, I read the first two paragraphs of his article, and my choice was made.

On the drive up, I was shouted down repeatedly because I specifically wanted McDonald’s. I vowed that next time I drove far away for a Magic tournament, I wouldn’t bring three people who cared so much for their own well-being.

After stopping at Dunkin Donuts (“Why the hell would you ever get an iced coffee? Shit just tastes like coffee that I left on my desk at work.” –Adam, to me), we saw another car on Route 90, in which the guy in the passenger seat was constructing a deck of Magic cards. I kept pace with the car so Adam could roll down his window (he was sitting rear driver’s side) and ask them what deck they were on. The guys in the car all laughed and yelled back, “Mono-black!” Ah, youth.

The venue was way too hot because Upstate New York doesn’t know how to deal with heat, similar to how southern states on the east coast don’t really know how to deal with snow. It was also pretty cramped with low ceilings. The room did not smell great.

At this point, I’d like to extend a message to ask-silly-questions-during-the-players’-meeting guy, because every PTQ has one: STOP IT. JUST STOP IT. YOU ARE NOT FUNNY, AND YOU’RE PISSING OFF EVERYBODY. WE ALL WANT THIS TO BE OVER. DON’T FUCKING DRAG IT OUT. DON’T EVER DO IT AGAIN. JUST SIT THERE QUIETLY.

Feels good to get that off my chest.

162 players at the PTQ in Rochester. One of the guys in my car is playing Battle of Wits. We are 90% sure he has multiple deck reg errors.

— jon corpora (@feb31st) August 12, 2012

It was Ryan Miller playing Battle of Wits, and Adam sat next to him during the players’ meeting to make sure there we no mistakes. Adam and I also threw $5 apiece at him for his entry . . . because Battle of Wits is awesome.

Round 1 – Jackie Wheater

Got soundly smashed by that Craterpoop Behemoth deck r1. It was actually a blast. When your opponent is cool, Magic is the shit. 0-1

— jon corpora (@feb31st) August 12, 2012

This match was hilarious even if I was throttled. Game 1, I mulled to six and flooded out pretty hard while she killed me effortlessly with Ezuri, Renegade Leader. I even used a Ponder to set up back-to-back miracled copies of Temporal Mastery, which just ended up being neat-looking Explores. In Game 2, her first two turns were Razorverge Thicket into Avacyn's Pilgrim followed by Sunpetal Grove and passing. I thought I had the game completely locked up until she resolved Witchbane Orb, which made me chuckle immoderately. We kept relative parity onboard until she untapped with an Elvish Archdruid in play and went:

“Genesis Wave for four?”

I just started laughing. People at PTQs generally don’t like it when their neighbors laugh because MAGIC IS SUPER-SERIOUS. But who says you can’t get smashed and have a blast with it?

Jackie untapped all her creatures.

“Genesis Wave for four?”

sd,fnsd gvdsfgnasdf.g,dmfnbdf.bn,dfsfbdmb,a d

LKSDJGNASDGAFJNBADF;LBKDANDA.BFDJBNDFB DLBD G

“Genesis Wave for eight?”

THIS IS REAL LIFE, PEOPLE.

She flips a bunch of guys, one at a time. The whole time, I’m saying aloud, “No Craterhoof, no Craterhoof,” which is making her laugh because she knows damn well I have no outs here and that if she doesn’t hit one here, I’m still dead the very next turn on the attack.

And then she flipped her eighth card off the top.

Round 2 – Brandon Cameron

Round 3 – Paul Lienhard

Round 4 – Nate Rotunno

Round 5 – Owen Daniels

4-1 at the PTQ. Swept UG Infect with 20 minutes to go, which can mean only one thing: IT IS TIME FOR A GARBAGE PLATE.

— jon corpora (@feb31st) August 12, 2012

I feel as though I say this on Twitter at least once every three months, but if you haven’t read Jeff Cunningham’s two-part article, “The Grind,” DO IT. They can be found here and here. I say this because in this two-part series, he basically says everything I’ve ever thought about competitive Magic and continually adds on it. Reading those articles at age twenty-one was like reading Catcher in the Rye at seventeen. I cited part two, chapter nine in my damn senior thesis. I mention all this because he starts his Grand Prix: Vancouver off in the hole and rallies back, and I feel that’s what I did at this tournament. As a result of that, the matches all kind of blend together. My opponents were very nice people (which is, thankfully, becoming more and more common these days), but they didn’t play spectacularly, and I beat them easily and quickly. Maybe it was my deck choice; when you’re playing R/U/G Ramp, you tend to win or lose games very quickly, and there’s not much for your opponent to play around. As it were, all my games seemed to end in, like, twenty minutes. That felt real nice, and it afforded me time to do other things—like grab a garbage plate. Jeff Cunningham also skimmed over his opponents in the X–1 bracket, noting that while they’re nice people, he beat them. When the matches aren’t very tough, that makes them that much harder to remember. The stuff I do remember about these matches are mostly irrelevant—Paul took a forced mull to five in Game 2; Owen wore headphones—so I don’t really feel like detailing four consecutive sweeps. 4–1

Round 6 – Morgan McLaughlin

5-1 in the PTQ. Looks like I have a win-and-in.

— jon corpora (@feb31st) August 12, 2012

Morgan had just knocked Adam out of Top 8 contention. For completion’s sake, Ryan was 1–4, but still playing because Battle of Wits, and Bret was 5–0, playing his win-and-in. Because he had knocked Adam out the round before, I knew he was on W/U control. I assumed correctly that I was in for a rough match, but . . . I have no idea what he kept each game, but multiple Think Twices never yielded a fourth land drop right away in either game.

There was an embarrassing moment in this match: He’s at 7 life, and I have a ton of lands in play. On his turn, Morgan taps out for a bunch of stuff and passes the turn. I go to check for a miracle, but it doesn’t matter because I have enough lands to kill him.

“Please, no miracle,” he said.

“Oh, it’s in my hand.” And I flash him the lethal Bonfire of the Damned.

I start tapping out for it.

I’m exactly one land short. I had counted it over and over on his turn while he was durdling, doing my best not to give away that I was counting up my lands, but . . . yeah, I was 1 mana short, and I’d flashed him a card in my hand. For no reason.

I end up winning the match on the next turn, but the wheels were already falling off the wagon, just in time for my win-and-in match.

Round 6 – Paolo Cesari

Here’s the position in Game 2: He is at 10 and controls a Zealous Conscripts, a Talrand, Sky Summoner, and a Snapcaster Mage. I have two Solemn Simulacrums and a Thragtusk in play. He has just attacked me down to 14. He has 3 mana open and two cards in hand.

On my turn, I draw a blank and tank before attacking with just two Solemn Simulacrums, putting him to 6. I have a Bonfire of the Damned in hand, but I fear countermagic. Post-attack-phase, I pass the turn, and of course, he Vapor Snags his own Zealous Conscripts, makes a Drake, and hits me for exactsies. It’s just such a massive, massive punt on my part that it still makes me sick to relive.

Between games, someone asks him which game it is. His reply?

“Game 3. I have to get this guy back for beating me at FNM. He even wrote a terrible article to go with it.” Then he looks me straight in the face. “I didn’t read it, of course.”

And then he draws two Delver of Secrets, transforms them blind (he casts Thought Scour with the triggers on the stack and reveals Mana Leak to transform both of them), and kills me with them in about two and a half minutes. My deck offered up no sweepers, but it didn’t goddamn matter; if I hadn’t punted that damn second game, there’s a good chance it would’ve never come to that.

Aftermath

Paolo was featured somewhat unflatteringly here. This is not the first time someone’s been pissed off about how he or she was portrayed in an article of mine. I don’t entertain any notions that it’ll be the last.

When I was young, I really enjoyed Gadiel Szleifer’s articles and their honesty, and I loved his tales of interacting and beating people who just weren’t as smart as he was. He was my favorite writer because he was sixteen—the same age as I was—and just crushed it on the Pro Tour. This is worth mentioning because he wrote some scathing things about people.

Mary Jacobson was a good sport about her mention because she knows with absolute certainty that she’s better than I am at this game. I’m not totally sure about Paolo. I’m fairly certain someone told him he was mentioned—I don’t go out of my way to tell people at FNM I write—and it’s always a bit disquieting when you find out people are talking about you behind your back.

On the other side of the coin, I’m reaping what I sow a bit. The little bit about foil cards equating to insecurity hit close to home for people other than Paolo, and I don’t begrudge them that in the slightest. Maybe what I’m frustrated with is the fact that I gave a detractor a reason to keep thinking he’s better than I am. Maybe I’m troubled by the very real possibility that his assumption’s correct.

I don’t want to start watering down what I write, but it’s weird that I had a dream about a bunch of guys who have seen it all lecturing me about my conduct twelve hours before I have it thrown in my face by a guy beating me thanks to my own blunder.

Which brings us back to the question: What am I going to do after this? Probably keep shooting myself in the foot somehow. I’ll figure something out.

Jon Corpora

Pronounced Ca-pora

@feb31st