I’ve played magic since I was 13 years old, starting in 1993 with the set known as “Revised.” For non-magic players, some of the rare cards in Revised are now worth hundreds of dollars, cards that I used to shuffle stacks of in my local comic shop. The 1990 Topps complete set of baseball cards I got for Christmas at the end of 1990, the ones I was told to save because they’d be worth money some day, I still had those well into my 20s before throwing them away when I found out that they had actually depreciated over time because of overprinting. Alas, my stack of dual lands never made it out of my teen years, which is too bad, because I could use a new car.
I’ve made up for this loss by filling my garage with magic cards both for the pleasure of simply owning all the pretty pictures that I once held dear, and also to turn my spare time into a few extra dollars a month through TCGPlayer.com. I also dream of one day taking at least one of my kids to a Pro Tour, and it will be nice to have a stockpile to get them started.
I still love Magic, and every few years, I will lose a month or two to an obsessive grind on MTGO, trying to achieve the illusive “infinite” status, or just trying to convince myself that I’m good enough to play the game in the professional leagues. I always find myself coming up a little short, not quite good enough, having not quite enough resources or time to pursue it wholeheartedly. Adult life has a way of silencing these kinds of pursuits (haphazardly referred to as “dreams”) with the demands of wives (to be clear, I only have one), children, bosses, and other various noisy gods–often times rightfully so. Still, I love the game, and it holds a special place in my heart in addition to my garage.