The Eye of Ugin – From Taiwan, with love

The Eye of Ugin – From Taiwan, with love: a brief introduction to team Taiwan of the impending World Magic Cup, and a discussion on the current state of Taiwanese magic

Hello everyone,

If you’ve been keeping up with Mana Deprived, you’ve might have seen me phase in and out for a brief period of time, circa summer 2011. The reason why I stopped writing is fairly simple; it’s the story everybody has said a million times already – too much commitment, can’t continue producing quality content, opportunity/job/education readjustment (well, I had to go back to school once summer was over). But more importantly, I had nothing to really write about. Pretty much everything under the sun has been written about already in magic, except for the hot new tech since that’s a constantly evolving process. I was engaged deeply in legacy in prep for Providence, so naturally the writing quality was high, but that ended soon enough. I tried to write a couple articles but none of them were really good enough to be published (I don’t want to repeat my Nagoya “tournament report” again, do I?). However, since I have way too much time on my hands right now, plus I’ve had some magical experience I feel interesting enough to share since then, I’m attempting to dip my feet in the water again. So here goes.

Magic is an interesting game. There’s nothing quite like it, yet it is like everything else. It has a very unique dynamic that nothing I’ve experienced can compare to. And because of Magic, I’ve been in a constant state of depression ever since I returned to Taiwan for summer. Now, I know that depression is a real clinical illness that many people suffer from in reality, so I am using that term relatively loosely, but there’s no other way to put it. Whenever I’m playing/talking/thinking Magic I feel alive, as if every cell, every molecule in my body is resonating and collaborating to achieve some sort of higher understanding. Whenever I’m not, I feel down, lose focus, and my mind wanders towards negative thoughts and emotions that make everything else I enjoy in life lose its luster. Perhaps addiction, not depression, is the right word for it. It wasn’t like the neurotransmitters in my brain had trouble emitting a sufficient amount of endorphins; but rather, I was exhibiting very common symptoms of withdrawal.

For the majority of summer, I’ve been living in Kaohsiung, the city where I spent the most of my childhood. It wasn’t until high school when I relocated to Taipei, where I began to learn the wonders of the game we know as Magic: The Gathering. Kaohsiung is a splendid city: the people passionate and friendly, the food delicious and cheap, and the weather sweltering hot and humid (maybe one of the above isn’t truly splendid…). I love Kaohsiung, and it ranks only second to the greatest city in the world on the Eye of Ugin Greatest Cities of the World List (trademark), Taipei, but Kaohsiung is severely lacking in the magic department. For example, I went to a local game store on pre-release date, and I won the thing without much difficulty. Of the 25 players there that day, perhaps only one person there (other than me of course) actually had some inkling of an idea of how to build a proper sealed deck. And that was only the person I lost to in the swiss round, after I dispatched a mighty crowd of magicians wielding decks filled with Fog, Angel’s Mercy, and Mind Sculpt (for “value”).

We then had a top 8 single elimination draft which, for some reason was ran at competitive REL, complete with timed picks, counting/fanning out the cards per pick, and 30/45 second reviewing in between packs. Having no experience with the draft format, I drafted the perennial “worst deck ever” (trademark), which in all perhaps wasn’t that bad I guess, in hindsight. It was just that the deck had no real win condition outside Serra Angel, and that the rest of the deck was 3 Pacifism, 2 Captain’s Call, and a motley crew of mediocre blockers; Kraken Hatchling, Guardians of Akrasa, Guardian Lions, and Scroll Thief (yes I took him as a blocker). I did, however, snatch up 3 copies of Tricks of the Trade as hate draft because that card just completely destroys me (cue foreshadowing music). So as expected, I lost game one to a dedicated BW exalted deck that attacked for a grand total of 3 times before I died. I had nothing that could attack through his blockers, and he was coming in at 5+ per turn. So I thought I might as well go for broke. I sided in Pillarfield Ox, a second Guardian Lions, and the 3 Tricks of the Trade. My plan was to stall until I drew Tricks of the Trade, and start to beatdown. Bonus points if it was on a Guardian Lions, cuz who doesn’t want to build his (or her) own Serra Angel? So surprisingly enough, the strategy worked. I enchanted Silvercoat Lion with Tricks, and he scored touchdown a couple turns later with help from Captain’s Call and PIllarfield Ox in the stalling department. Then game 3 I put Tricks on the former limited all-star Scroll Thief and it wasn’t too hard to win from there. The same strategy carried me all the way up, and I took the thing down without much difficulty, to my surprise. Now, kids, don’t try this at home, I’m a trained professional at drafting terrible decks, and the situation was very unique; the format was young and not figured out, removal spells were remarkably few in that draft pool, and most importantly, above-average technical play was exhibited. What you should learn from my experience is that you can’t just hope for free wins. You have to always try and give yourself an out, a way to win even when things look grim.

Tangent to general Magic concept that is somewhat relevant to situation at hand

Even when things are looking, very, very grim, you should almost never scoop up your cards unless your life total or you cannot draw a card (or I guess your poison status reaches 10 counters). Try and set up a play that would make your opponent misplay. For example, one time in legacy, I was playing Merfolk against Stoneblade, and I just lost game 1. Game 2, he had 5 lands tapped, Vendilion Clique, Batterskull w/ Germ, and while I had lethal amount of power on board, if he blocks with Germ token his life total ends up at 1. More importantly, this play involves attacking with a fully leveled Coralhelm Commander, and thus that means I can’t leave him to block. If he just equips Clique with Batterskull and attacks back, I take lethal. But if I block with Commander his life total soars up way too high and I lose my biggest guy (not to mention the possibility of him just playing a removal spell). Essentially, if I attack with all I lose next turn, but if I don’t attack with all, I probably lose as well. Stoneblade has too much late game and I can’t win without my Commander. So although I was just about to scoop up my cards, I thought might as well, and said “swing with everybody”, sounding as confident as I can possibly could as I turned my guys sideways one by one. Now although I was dead either way, that’s only if he makes the right play. There’re two scenarios where he might misplay and punt the game:

He blocks one of my guys with Vendilion Clique; doesn’t have lethal next turn.

He might just not realize that he can equip the Clique with Batterskull. While this might sound absolutely ridiculous, it’s not completely uncommon for a player to forget this mid-game, especially since they’ve always treated Batterskull as a 4/4 lifelink. I had a Mutavault I just played, so if I get to block I might be able to attack back for lethal next turn.

Keep in mind that even if any of the above scenarios play out, he might just be able to go “untap, Swords to Plowshares your guy, Snapcaster, Swords your other guy”. So other than the fact that I need him to misplay, I also had to hope he had stone cold nothing in hand. Either way I thought I was pretty dead. Long story short, I won that game, and then the match. Which scenario unfolded? Answer: (highlight to see)

He looks at my whole team, does combat math wrong, and scoops up his cards.

For quite an epic game 2, the match ends rather climatically. In game 3 I play my sideboard Tower of the Magistrate and he can’t win. Although I was on the verge of basically losing the match in game 2, I yanked it around and took it down by force. Sometimes, that’s all the difference it makes between making and missing a top 8 or a day two. Remember to always try to find a way out, and leave the misplays to your opponent.

//End of Tangent

I was happy I won the pre-release, and the feelings of withdrawal subsided for a couple of days. It didn’t last long; soon, I was craving for a game again. Thankfully, I got to take a couple days off work and I headed to Taipei, the Greatest City on the Eye of Ugin Greatest Cities of the World List (trademark). Other than being completely awesome, it is completely awesome.

I headed to Cardmaster, the premier card shop in Taipei, hoping to get a draft going. The drafts there are the best, because you can bring your own packs, and the entry fee is just the price of a pack that feeds into the prize pool. Basically the same as modo drafts, except the payout is worse (4-2-1-1 since cards cost more, being in the real world, and all). But all in all, a great way to open packs since you get to practice draft and potentially go infinite (though much tougher than its virtual counterpart). No drafts started while I was there, but I got to meet the members of team Taiwan who met up and were testing at the store in preparation for the upcoming Magic World Cup.

When one thinks of professional Taiwanese magic, one typically thinks of Tzu-Ching Kuo, the top Taiwanese pro at large. He’s qualified for the 16 player championship, overtaking Jeremy Neeman at last minute for the Asia-Pacific regional slot with a tenth place finish at Pro Tour Barcelona. He has over 100 pro points and ten years of pro tour experience, making him a qualified Hall of Fame nominee (though he probably isn’t getting in anytime soon…). He has won Nationals thrice, which may or may not be a testament to his strength, the quality of Taiwanese players, or both. He won twice in a row in 2009 and 2010, and “only” got 3rd place in 2011, resulting in him jokingly referring to it a failure.

I sat down next to the playtesting team, and started another game with one of the guys relegated to spectating duty. Within a quick 20 games, we found out that Zombies was basically unplayable. It beat Delver handily game 1, but was a virtual bye for Delver post board. Celestial Purge, Snapcaster, flashback Purge was usually enough for the Zombies player to lose all momentum, and its lack of card advantage/selection usually meant Delver was bound to take over. We tested UW Delver, both the 19 land and 21 land variety with Hero of Bladehold, and quickly determined that 19 land Delver was the best configuration, and Hero of Bladehold was actually just terrible. Of course it was good against ramp, because it hits for 7 and then 11 just by itself, but it worsens your deck by so much because Cavern of Souls actually just does nothing in the deck. Even against ramp, it was bad on the draw, because tapping out for a 4 drop meant ramp was free to play any Titan, Thragtusk, Bonfire, whatever. And connecting only once with Hero didn’t really matter at all if ramp was free to cast its big spells and win in short order.

We went out for a round of delicious Taiwanese cuisine and beers, talked strategy and deck choices. Present there was the number two Taiwanese pro Hao-Shang Huang of 2011 Grand Prix Brisbane and Singapore top 8 fame. He has also lost to Justin Richardson in round 5 of GP Pittsburgh; Justin proceeds to finish 387th, and Hao-Shang Huang 26th. Through his string of GP/PT money finishes in 2011, he achieved pro player level six (equivalent to Gold pro level right now) at Worlds in San Francisco. He told me his hot streak in 2011, explaining that he wasn’t even qualified for PT Paris, and didn’t play a single GP until middle of the year at GP Singapore.

“I phoned my friends in Singapore, telling them I might go if I win the Nagoya PTQ the week before in Taiwan. There were 60 players at the PTQ that day, and at the end of the night I booked my ticket to Singapore” he tells me.

“It was the hardest ****ing Grand Prix I’ve ever played in. In day one I had to beat Conley Woods, Brandon Nelson, Martin Juza, and Chikara Nakajima to end 9-0 (only PV had the same score). Then I unintentionally drew with PV, lost to David Ochoa, beat two more guys, and drew the last two round, including one intentionally with Owen Turtenwald into top 8”

While these two above players are truly skillful and talented, they are very rare in Taiwan, to the point that perhaps it can even be called a miracle that they exist in the first place. It’s extremely hard for Taiwanese players to improve their skills as Magic players. The environment simply doesn’t allow it. Let me elaborate on this a little. Taiwan is a relatively poor country by western standards. A typical starting salary in a white collar office setting is about 22,000nt per month (nt is short hand for New Taiwanese Dollar), which is roughly a bit over $700 CAD (or USD). That’s not to say that most Taiwanese workers live in poverty, it’s just that the cost of living is very low in Taiwan. A typical lunch in Taiwan costs about 100nt (approx. $3.33) complete with rice, protein, veggies, and sometimes if you’re lucky, soup and fruit. There’s no service charge or tax for anything, so if it’s $3.33, it’s three dollars and thirty-three cents. If we ignore tip and tax, then we’re looking at a base price of $2.50, perhaps even lower. Things have been changing, however, and inflation has been steadily working its way through society. Rent, electricity, gas, food, everything has been rising steadily… except for wages. What might have been a handsome salary ten years ago is no longer what it used to be. Rising costs have been especially outrageous in real estate. A typical 10 year old apartment in some of the better areas of Taipei is upwards of 30,000,000nt ($1 million). People often joke that with their meager salary, they need to have started saving from the Song Dynasty (960-1279AD) if they want to afford a house.

And yet it is only in a largely metropolitan area, with enough resources that wizards would be willing to allocate product to. In the sprawling caves of steel that is Taipei, people are very thrifty and restrictive regarding their financial allocations. Even if people find immense pleasure in playing Magic, in which they no doubt do, they are still going to second guess themselves when it comes to shelling out many a coin for the hottest mythic rare in town. In a city where everybody is working their asses off to scrap together a decent living, with perhaps aspirations such as cars, real estate, travel, who has the money to spend on card games?

The biggest difference that I’ve found between Magic culture in North America and Taiwan is, simply put, the perspective on Magic as a pastime. In America (For the sake of simplicity, I’m referring to North America as just “America” from here on out), it’s not uncommon for someone to drive upwards of 1 hour if it means catching FNM at their “local” game store. They’ll drive 5+ hours to hit PTQs in search for the fable blue envelop. They’ll preorder a box of boosters and just crack them to get their hands on the shiny new cards. It’s not that these types of people don’t exist in Taiwan, just that it’s the strict minority. Most people are the guys that plays his one EDH deck or the guy that just does drafts. Or pretty much anything Magic related as long as it doesn’t involve an arm and a leg. If someone can somehow gather data regarding Magic spending per capita, Taiwan would be one of the lowest of all developed/developing countries.

Whereas tournament attendance records have been broken left and right in America, overall attendance in Taiwan has remained stagnant, if not lowered. The initial wave of players who joined Magic in high school in the 90/00s have moved on to pursue other interests, like education and jobs, while the influx of new players have not been largely significant. Most Taiwanese players are not fluent enough to follow coverage extensively, and there haven’t been enough Taiwanese pro tour winners (read: zero) for people to look up to and barn.

The first PTQ I’ve attended was a Time Spiral sealed event when I was in 9th grade. There were 43 players, and I finished 1-5 (the one win was a bye in round 6). Back in the day, the winner of the PTQ got an invite + free ticket or $375 in cash. The winner took the cash equivalent to nobody’s surprise. The general sentiment was, “Even if I get a free ticket. I still need to pay for food and hotel! Not to mention I have to take days off work” The thought of winning money from the Pro Tour didn’t even cross their minds. There was no prestige in participating on the ‘tour, and nobody really followed who was winning what and how much money they were making. These guys were just happy that got that $375, which is again, worth much more in Taiwan than in America. $375? That’s like half a month’s salary! Why would I blow that on a mere chance to make money?

I refer to the existence of Huang and Kuo as miracles because of such a bad breeding ground for great players. How then, did they manage to break out onto the international scene then? In simple words, “talent” Not just “talent” like how PV or Finkel manage to dominate tournament after tournament, but also “talent” that helped them realize the situation at hand. They carefully analyzed the situation, quickly realized that the real money to be made was on the Pro Tour, and vowed to compete on that level. Their skill level was already high enough to handily crush the local competition, but they both knew that if they wanted to make it big on the global level, they’ll need to continue testing online and make connections with big name players from Japan and the rest of Asia.

At dinner, when we were gorging ourselves on a feast of deep fried salt & pepper oysters, spicy stir fried bamboo shoots, steamed shrimp with ginger and shallots, beef fried rice, seafood chow mein, fish soup, clams with thai basil, braised and then fried pig intestines stuff with chives, garlic stir fried cabbage, and grilled calamari, while washing it down with the ever refreshing and possibly greatest beer in the world Taiwan Beer, the Magic talk began. At some point in the conversation, Tzu Ching Kuo turns to me and says, much to my surprise, “I think you have a lot of potential [to play on the Pro Tour]. I really think you have the talent”

Note the phrase “talent”. Kuo is a true believer of talent, because all the Taiwanese players who ever played at a high level had a lot of talent. There are no grinders in Taiwan, obviously because of the lack of frequent large tournaments. Furthermore, going on modo and grinding 10000 games until you are a “master” is out of the question, because while it might be feasible on the GP level (which Taiwanese players rarely travel to), it won’t do you any good once you go to Pro Tours and play against people who have put in just as much effort as you plus the innate talent factor. Taiwanese players are highly risk averse, as well as result oriented, so grinding (putting a ton of effort) for tournaments just doesn’t seem quite worth it. The people who feel like there’s no endpoint close in sight quit easily. Hence Kuo pointed out that he feels the PT is not actually that far in sight for me, because he felt that I had the talent.

I was flattered as I was surprised, but more importantly, I was concerned about the state of Taiwanese players. “Talent-type” players from Taiwan can thrive and even prosper on the international stage, but what about the “hard-work type” players, who are just as talented but have a slower learning curve? What about the kid down south with a ton of potential that could never improve because there was no one to shove him in the right direction? What about the people who are just passionate about Magic and actively want to improve, but just lacked the connections? What about me, who was just as terrible as everyone else until I went training in Canada? (I couldn’t even qualify for nats, and you only needed a 1820 Elo to top 75 and queue on DCI rating)

I thought about the members of team Taiwan, and although I’ve only tested with them briefly, I knew that two of them (the third member was already in the States) weren’t even as skill or as experienced as me! One of them has never went overseas for a tournament, and one had played in 2 GPs. Compared to those two, I was much more knowledgeable on matchups, deck construction, sideboard, pretty much everything required for winning tournaments. Perhaps that was why Kuo thought I was a potential PT player, because I was better qualified to compete in the World Cup than his teammates! And I am just a snotty 19 year old who was just lucky enough to frequent the same local card store that Alex Hayne goes to…

Despite all odds, I wish team Taiwan (or Chinese Taipei…) to the best of luck. If we do well, maybe more people will aspire to one day qualify for the tour.

I wish team Canada the best of luck as well, as I think the team is very strong and is favored to take down the tournament.

Until the Eye of Ugin opens again,
-Eugene Ho
@EyeOfUgin on Twitter