Have you ever asked yourself what you really want to do? Don’t be afraid to answer “no”—because it is surely a question that many people avoid asking themselves. Sometimes, it feels as though we spend life circling around our goals rather than driving in a straight line toward them. Nonetheless, it was a question I could not help but ask myself last summer, when my day job as a sports journalist took me to the London Olympics. There, day after day, I saw ten thousand athletes who would had not only asked themselves what they wanted to do, but who had made huge sacrifices to make it happen. I came home to Berlin in a pensive mood and asked myself: Could I not learn something from the track-suit heroes who had inspired London and millions of others watching at home?

The result was a grueling year working seven days a week, hammering the phone, jumping on planes, and hunkering down in the library to research and write the book I had been telling myself I wanted to write for years: SO DO YOU WEAR A CAPE? The Unofficial Story of Magic: The Gathering—an account, it turns out, of a world I care passionately about. Am I a great player, deck designer, or strategist? No. But I can tell a story. And with every interview, every old article I uncovered, every old forum post I dug up, I could feel a fantastic tale developing—one that I felt empowered to write by the community I was part of—and one I was incredibly excited to share.

It’s time to spread the joy of Magic, either by preaching to the choir or playing Serra Evangelist and converting the nonbelievers. I’ve scoured the Multiverse and picked some of my favorite Vorthos swag that might do for your gifting, self-gifting, and re-gifting needs. In the interest of full disclosure, it might be impossible to have some of these gifts (especially the more artisanal ones) arrive by the 25th, but I am a proponent of delayed gratification. So, go nuts, and share the MTG love—it’s the thought that counts, but it’s the follow-through that creates inhabitable sandcastles in the sky.

P.S. I give you full permission to also get yourself “somethin’ really nice . . . ” from this list. Cheers.

“Legacy is stagnant.”

“Huh?”

“You either play True-Name Nemesis or a deck that doesn't care about it.”

True-Name Nemesis is a lot of things. It's a resilient, blue, non-interactive evasive creature. It sees a lot of play, but does it make the format more stagnant?

It does constrict things in a way. Since it's a strictly superior threat in the blue midrange mirror, those blue decks are forced to run it. Before, they had some options between Lingering Souls,Geist of Saint Traft, or Dark Confidant, all of which had their pros and cons. With True-Name Nemesis locking in certain slots, people have fewer options, and some mirrors are reduced to True-Name Nemesis battles.

This isn't the first time a superior option has existed in Legacy. When you consider Tarmogoyf's long and bloody reign, the impact of True-Name Nemesis pales in comparison. This happens with less obvious cards, too. Most decks start with four Brainstorm, BG decks need Deathrite Shamans, and tribal decks start with Aether Vial.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing. Wizards will always print more good cards, and sometimes that pushes other cards out.

Of course, you can hate other things about TNN. Patrick Sullivan described it as: “Everything Spikes hate about Hexproof combined with everything non-Spikes hate about Moat.” Zvi, while not calling the card unbeatable, bemoaned its influence, claiming it led to less interactive, less fun Magic.

Those arguments in mind, I don't think the card will damage Legacy significantly.

Devotion has been a boon to Standard, spicing up monocolored strategies and helping them stay fresher for longer. However, even the freshest grape in the bunch will eventually be spoiled. But, to keep the analogy accurate, we'll be sick of them before that happens. If vegetables did a better job capturing my attention from the crisper drawer, maybe I wouldn't let them degenerate into a yellowed liquid so often.

Then again, this sounds like garbage-blaming.

Anyway...

When it comes down to it, monocolor is still just that. The thrill of playing Nightveil Specter will only last so long, and when two monocolored decks are each playing a set, it may begin to feel like the new Delver.

Wait: Nightveil Specter is the new Delver?

Er, maybe I should just start over.

Maia picked her way through the ruined building with bare and careful feet. They were already covered in soot, but she could wash them off in the stream. It was her sandals she couldn't get dirty, along with her tunic. She'd only made that mistake once, and mother had sent her to bed without dinner and forbidden her from going back.

She ducked under a creaking beam and stepped into the forge itself. The stone anvil still sat in its familiar place.

Papa never let her go back there when he was casting molten bronze or smelting iron. Much too dangerous, he'd say gruffly, and then, with a twinkle in his eye: Maybe next year. So, most of the time she'd spent back there had been on days when papa was cold-working the swords and shields after they'd cooled, hammering their edges to harden the bronze. She'd sit and listen to the clang, clang, clang of hammer and stone. Sometimes papa would tell her about what he was doing, and why, and every time she learned a little bit more about the trade.

In her hand she clutched a bundle of delicate white and purple flowers, fresh picked in the hills beyond the forge. Mother brought asphodels, the flowers of the dead, to the spot up on the hill where they had buried him. She said that was proper. But asters had always been papa's favorite, and he had never even been up on that hill that Maia knew of. This was papa's place. So she brought these flowers, to this place, as often as she could.

We wanted something special to bridge between now and then, and had the idea of interviewing my old friend and most-drawn-upon muse, Jon Finkel. Wow! Super original! Everyone wants to interview Jon Finkel. What do you even ask him? Everyone wants to figure out how you peel back the skull to reveal the secrets of Jon's computer-like super Magic mind. Did I mention everyone wants to do this? How do you do this well?

Ueber-interviewer and Pro Tour Historian Brian David-Marshall had this great idea.

"Just deal out some hands and have Jon tell you if he would mulligan or not."

Thanks GreedyM!

Part of the problem with trying to figure out what makes Jon so very special is trying to take what makes him different—his in-game—and translating that, out of the moment, onto digital paper. That's really difficult for even great interviewers because how is Jon (or whoever) supposed to remember what was going on between his ears while he did whatever awesome thing? So much of what we call great play is driven by context, by moment, by not only what a player is trying to do but what he thinks the opponent is trying to do, right then and there. Some of it is luck; much of it we never see and no one ever sees. Brian's idea was great because it was just purely practical. Specific decisions, specific to the moment even, and wholly and contextually translatable to readers. This—this—is how you approach an opener.

Also, Jon loves Loves LOVES taking draws with his Storm deck.

...

Sadly, the mulligans didn't go very far... but Tom made for a heck of a set of chats. I actually thought readers might learn more from Tom's journey of the past couple of years than the oft-tapped Jon. Finkel, for his part, continued taking test draws. He really loves that Storm deck.

Over the past couple of years, Aristocrats Champion and World Championship–competitor Tom Martell has emerged as one of the best players on the Pro Tour... but he certainly didn't start out that good. Can readers learn from the tools Tom adopted to drive his rise from kitchen-table aspirant to Grand Prix Top 8 competitor to Grand Prix Champion to Pro Tour Champion?

I'm guessing yes.