I grew up on games. I think our entire generation did, whether it was Monopoly or Risk or Pong. Even things like Hide-and-Seek, Tag, or, my personal favorite run-around-kids-game, Ghost in the Graveyard are simple games that teach kids rules, social interaction, and (some level of) critical thinking.
As we grow older, games fade in the background and work rears it's ugly head. “Play” becomes “try to get a girlfriend” or “go to a party” or “*insert whatever teens do*”. But for us – the gamers of the world – games never go away.
And as we move toward the end of 2010, video games are quickly becoming exponentially more mainstream. They're featured in movies, referenced in TV shows, promoted by celebrities and have generally moved from “niche” to “insanely popular.” They generate billions of dollars, create ad revenue, and shatter entertainment records. They have their own television channel, countless web sites devoted to them, and have spawned a retail giant. Games are a big fucking deal.
I, of course, am a gamer. So are all my friends. But as we inch toward (shudder) thirty years old, some of us find it harder and harder to game. This past year I found it very difficult to game. But not because of awesome things like a new family or an exciting career, but because someone took that option away from me.
I had my current-generation gaming consoles stolen.
Now, that fact in and of itself is not a huge deal. After all, my games were not taken and a Wii/360 costs, what, $300 to replace? Suck it up and get back to it! But about a thousand other factors factored in to my decision to not replace (as of writing) my consoles. Money was one (I'm poor). Losing my first writing job was another (that sucked). Moving to a new city was yet another (rent, poor, etc.).
But the biggest one was a reappearance of an old, old friend. Magic: The Gathering.
See, now you see how much of a true gamer I am. Anyone can play Wii Sports of Call of Duty. It's now completely socially acceptable. Even a legendary game like Dungeons and Dragons has some allure to it. At least my parents have some vague idea of what it is and maybe even tried it once. But those of us who play MTG? Let me tell you, there is still the good old stigmas – the sideways looks, the stereotypes – that once existed with video gaming.
Just before I moved to Providence, RI, I was getting “the itch” as people who play the most popular and successful collectible card game ever call it. “When was your break?” is a common conversation topic between MTG players. You never really quit the game, you just take a vacation.
A little history regarding my MTG experience. I have been playing since about 1998. I am 24 years old and the year is 2010. So I have been playing the game roughly half my life. That is insane. I remember playing in grade school during lunch and indoor recess or even after/before school. I had a friend who played so much he won $1,000 scholarship and the local newspaper wrote an article about him, calling the game “a mix between Poker and Chess.” One of my earliest jobs (and, truth be told, most rad) was at a baseball card store – which I got solely on my near-encyclopedic knowledge of Magic cards. In short: Magic was a huge part of my development as a person, not just a gamer.
But back to playing it. I had found a place that held events near my new apartment and decided to check it out. In the blink of an eye I was back. Chatting with people about how long I had been playing or arguing about strategic decisions. Even my background working at a similar shop. A great thing about the game is you always have something to talk about with someone who plays it. Unlike music (or even video games, there are so many), taste is not really a factor when it comes to MTG conversations. You can just as easily give a ten-year-old kid a tip on what cards he should put in his angel deck as you can argue with someone about pick orders in M11 draft. I've never had such easy and interesting conversations with complete strangers as I have when talking MTG.
It wouldn't be hyperbole to say nearly every person I've met since I've lived in Rhode Island has been because of Magic. Go to enough of the same places, and you get to know people. Hell, you even get that thing where people go from “Magic friend” to “real friend.” It's the best part about the game – the social aspect. Sure, you can play Xbox Live and “meet” people, but it isn't the same as matching wits across the table, shaking hands after, swapping bad beat stories, talking about the latest set's rumors, or pulling out your trade binder. The face-to-face, sportsman aspect is a huge part of what makes MTG great. I love competition – and don't get me wrong, Halo can be (and was) very competitive – and I think it is something that most gamers can relate to. But the perfect balance of decision-making, preparation, and a little luck, MTG has makes for an intoxicating mix.
But beyond that, the ritual of going to your local card shop every week for a tournament or after work to pick up some packs or singles or playing with some friends at some 24-hour restaurant – it's these things that keep people hooked for decades.
I can happily say I'm firmly entrenched in Magic again. I consume articles the way I did video game blogs. I think about the game constantly at work. I look forward to tournaments and release events. Cards are (much to the lady's chagrin) strewn about my apartment. I even dabble in writing about the game. And I love it.
Magic has filled the void left by having little to no video games. And it's not for lack of trying. I still have my DS but rarely play it. I find Magic just an overall more fulfilling and pleasing hobby. There will always be a place in my heart for video games and, if they're anything like Magic is, I will find my way back to them someday soon.
But for now, I am happy slinging spells with some great people. Long live tapping the cardboard.
