Let's play make believe for a bit. You're about to play the last round of GP Nashville and you find yourself with a 11-3-1 record. You're disappointed you won't be top 8ing but you realize there are Pro Points, money, and pride still to be salvaged. You are perusing the standings, seeing where you could potentially finish and suddenly realize if things break in the most improbable way ever, you have a miniscule shot of making the top 16 and procuring that invite to Paris you have set your sights on attaining. "Cool!" you say to yourself. "At least I have a miracle to pray for!"

Spirits raised, you rush to the pairings board to see who else navigated your draft pod to a 2-0 record. Sure enough, it's the lone well known pro in the pod. You know it will take all your focus to take this last match of the day and keep your dreams of the Pro Tour alive. You prime yourself, and walk over to your seat to see where the cards will fall.

"So we just draw to lock up top 64?" says your opponent.

"Sorry, don't think I can... I'm paired down. I've got a small shot at top 16," you tell your opponent with a smile.

You can see the wind deflate from his sails. "Is the pro point an important one for you?" you ask.

"Huge," says the pro. "I need one more point for level 6. Level 6 comes with a Flight to Worlds... saves me a couple grand."

"Well... is there any chance you still top 64 with a loss?" you say.

"No... my breakers aren't good enough. Are you sure you can't draw? I understand your position, but there is a huge amount at stake for me here." says the pro, who has been nothing but a gentleman and in no way overly aggressive about seeking your compliance.

What do you do?

I faced this exact situation in Toronto, and while for many Magic players, there would be no moral dilemma in telling Mr. Pro to go stuff it, I found myself emotionally torn apart by the decision. Until I spent some time around the game at its higher levels, I had an erroneous perception of pro Magic players as international travelers, scooting around the world to collect copious sums of money in exotic locales, all for doing what they love. I know now that I was, in fact, an idiot. Playing Magic on the professional level is difficult. Not just in terms of having to play exceptionally well, but also in terms of managing your budget, arranging travel, finding lodging... the list of difficulties goes on and on. I have a job that pays me very well, which also affords me time to pursue my goal of playing this silly game I love at the highest level. Many of my peers are not afforded this same Opportunity. Could I really deny someone thousands of dollars, as well as access to Pro Points which were of a far greater value in his hands than mine, for an infinitesimal lark that required everything to break just my way?

The answer turned out to be yes.

I don't want to list the name of the player I was paired against. I don't know that I have the sequence of events and the quotes exactly accurate enough to attribute a name to them. Anyone who cares enough can do the required detective work to find out who the story is based on. Before I continue telling you why I made the decision I did, I just want to state that my opponent could not have been more of a gentleman, and indeed, a professional, as we advanced through the games. He asked me politely again to consider a draw after I went up a game and when I again refused he pushed the issue no further. I gained loads of respect for this player and he stated after the match ended that he understood why I felt I had to play out the match, which did a lot to settle the moral uncertainty I was feeling at the time. By the way, he won in three hard fought games and got his Pro Point. If you happen to be reading this, best of luck in Japan.

As you move up the ladders of the Magic hierarchy you will experience things for the first time. Your first event at professional level rules enforcement, your first pro tour, your first draft with stamped cards not in booster packs... these are all things that every top notch Magic player in the world had to do for the first time once, and they probably felt the same trepidation and nervous excitement that you will feel when you take your first pass at such things. One thing that has helped me immensely in preparing for these milestones is a willingness to ask questions and gather information from those who have been there before. I remember a particularly unfortunate event from my PTQ infancy where I attempted to do exactly that, and things didn't go the way I had expected. Let's take a quick side track.

It was the Standard format post-M10 and my opponent and I were locked in a 5-color control mirror match. I had just won game two on the back of a fairly epic Identity Crisis top deck, and was feeling confident heading in to game three. I shuffled up, found a hand loaded with land (ideal for the 5cc mirror) and kept happily. My opponent laid his land for his first turn and passed the turn to me.

"PTQ players that is time in the round!"

Did I mention that this was the last round before the top 8, and that the winner of this match was assured a spot in that top 8?

A judge came over to watch our extra turns, and to no ones surprise, we were unable to determine a victor. This was my second PTQ ever, and I found myself at a loss for the next step, and looked to the judge hovering over our match.

"Judge, I've never been in this position before. What do we do?" I said, following my instinct to seek help from those more experienced than I.

"I can't tell you what to do." he said.

Hmm... fair enough. "Well... what have you seen other people do in this situation?" I asked, hoping that I had given him enough leeway in my questioning to allow him to provide me the information I was so desperately seeking.

"I can't tell you that either."

Baffled I sat and contemplated my options. I knew a draw would eliminate us both, and we had to determine a winner somehow.

So I grabbed a die and said, "Let's high roll," and rolled it on the table.

The groans from the crowd surrounding our match were audible. My opponent sat staring at me for a moment, amazed at just how stupid I was. The judge informed me that he would like to speak to me away from the table. Apparently what I had done was completely unacceptable, and I would be eliminated from the tournament without prize and be reported to the DCI. (This continues to be the only negative experience I have had with a judge in my Magic career. I feel that having expressed my ignorance of the situation, it was certainly prudent of him to at least tell me what I could not do. I understand that this is not the specific function of a judge, but there is a reason judges are people and not robots. Show a little humanity.)

So what is the point of this tragic little tale? Basically, I want you to consider what your personal guidelines are in regards to concessions or draws, so the first time someone asks you, you're not left scrambling to find north on your moral compass. I believe my guilt and indecisiveness cost me my last round match, and I don't want you to make the same mistake. I'm here to keep you from high rolling for it.

When we pay to enter a magic tournament we are essentially making a very clear statement. You are stating, "My performance and participation in this event means enough to me to put my hard earned cash on the line." If you did not care about your finish than you would not have signed up in the first place.

In the midst of a large tournament it is easy to lose track of the Opportunity cost of your attendance in that event. Consider the hours of MODO drafting, gas and tolls, hotel rooms, the time off work, the time away from loved ones... These are all costs associated with event attendance. This being the case, I would argue that my Opportunity cost in participating in a Grand Prix often approaches thousands of dollars. At that cost, it is now clear to me that I have an obligation to myself to compete while there is anything worth competing for. Even if there is the slimmest possibility of marginal financial gain, it is your duty as a competitor to pursue that reward. The chief factor inhibiting my ability to see this truth was a concern about reputation.

I'm a confident person. One of the keys to my success in life has been an ability to look past what others may think of me, and act in a manner consistent with my principles. This being said I, like all competitive people, have a deep seeded need for recognition. I want to be told I'm the best, have my picture taken with the trophy, have my name up in lights... And any competitive person who tells you that they feel any different is a liar. In the Magic community I'm essentially a nobody. Sure, I've got a few decent finishes, a Pro Tour appearance, and a few Pro friends, but ask your friends if they read the latest Bryan Gottlieb article and I'm sure you're gonna get a quick, "Who the hell is that?"

One of the keys to being a "someone" in this strange domed-in world of ours is making connections. You need friends in this game for so many reasons. Having access to the latest tech, finding a place to Crash, getting your article published, and even getting that key concession or draw when you really need it are all benefits of being well connected and respected. I let myself be blinded by this need for acceptance and allowed it to create a guilt which sabotaged my focus on the task at hand.

The truth of the matter is that a well known pro is no more entitled to a particular result than anyone else in a tournament. And you know what the kicker is? They understand this. No truly decent individual could ever bring animosity towards you for attempting to maximize your results. This competitive drive is exactly what makes our game so intense at the highest level. You have a right, and a duty, to chase your optimal outcome in any event. Pros relish the Opportunity to compete with huge stakes on the line and while no one would ever deny a free pass, you can be sure that the top players in the game will always be ready to give you their best. You should always be prepared to do the same.

When discussing making decisions based on getting the maximum value from our tournament participation, it is unfortunate that we have to consider the gray area of friendly "gifts" we may receive from people who are the beneficiaries of our kindness. As much as we would like to pretend that the practice of rewarding people for concessions is a myth, any experienced magic player knows this is not the case. I want to be very clear in stating that matters such as this were in no way involved in my situation at Grand Prix: Toronto and that I am speaking from a purely hypothetical standpoint as it relates to this issue.

I think to be great at a game, you need to respect its integrity. I want a finish at an event to be earned by both myself, and all the other competitors in the room. When someone is chosen to represent themselves and our nation at a Pro Tour, as cheesy as it sounds, I want the right person to be there. The butterfly effect you create by accepting bribes for concessions is altering results from the top of the standings to the bottom. I urge you to take the high road when it comes to these matters. If you eliminate the possibility of future repayment from your mind when assessing a potential draw/concession situation, it becomes much easier to make the right decision in terms of the tournament itself.

I am not advocating a cut-throat, never back down mentality. People who know me would be quick to characterize me as generous to a fault in matters of day-to-day life. If you have nothing to gain by playing out a match and end up paired up or down, help your opponent out. If a draw assures the best possible money finish for you and your foe, go ahead and sign that match slip. And if you are dead on board at the end of extra turns early on in a Grand Prix, concede to your opponent. However, if you truly dream of taking your seat on the gravy train, and establishing yourself as one of the best players in the world, than you can never leave an Opportunity on the table. I know that going forward I will continue to be friendly, continue to treat my opponents with dignity and respect, and continue trying to make the community a better place... But I will never feel guilty about maximizing my chances to succeed again. I think what I have said here will be fairly controversial and may come off as greedy or self-serving. If I am totally off-base, I urge you to convince me so in our forums or comments sections. Also you can always tweet me your opinions @Bryango. Until next time... keep maximizing your value.

Bryan Gottlieb