Playing against somebody who is genuinely, unsentimentally trying to end you turns out to be a relief. Nobody is pretending. Nobody will be wounded that you drew well.
Competitive Commander is the format's cutthroat wing: optimised hundred-card decks, games that can be settled on turn three, and a stack of permissions and responses that reads more like a legal argument than a card game. The strange part, which nobody believes until they sit down, is that this room runs warmer than the casual tables. Everyone consented to it. Nobody owes an apology, so nobody is quietly resentful, and a player who just lost in four minutes will immediately explain how they would have stopped themselves.
The shorthand gives it away too. Nobody here says Commander; it is cEDH, four letters, and the tables talk in win conditions and interaction rather than in stories about their decks.
Colorado Boulevard, a few doors off Old Pasadena, Mondays from six, free to sit down.
Bring the deck somebody once told you was too mean for a normal table.
Playing against somebody who is genuinely, unsentimentally trying to end you turns out to be a relief. Nobody is pretending. Nobody will be wounded that you drew well.
Competitive Commander is the format's cutthroat wing: optimised hundred-card decks, games that can be settled on turn three, and a stack of permissions and responses that reads more like a legal argument than a card game. The strange part, which nobody believes until they sit down, is that this room runs warmer than the casual tables. Everyone consented to it. Nobody owes an apology, so nobody is quietly resentful, and a player who just lost in four minutes will immediately explain how they would have stopped themselves.
The shorthand gives it away too. Nobody here says Commander; it is cEDH, four letters, and the tables talk in win conditions and interaction rather than in stories about their decks.
Colorado Boulevard, a few doors off Old Pasadena, Mondays from six, free to sit down.
Bring the deck somebody once told you was too mean for a normal table.
Playing against somebody who is genuinely, unsentimentally trying to end you turns out to be a relief. Nobody is pretending. Nobody will be wounded that you drew well.
Competitive Commander is the format's cutthroat wing: optimised hundred-card decks, games that can be settled on turn three, and a stack of permissions and responses that reads more like a legal argument than a card game. The strange part, which nobody believes until they sit down, is that this room runs warmer than the casual tables. Everyone consented to it. Nobody owes an apology, so nobody is quietly resentful, and a player who just lost in four minutes will immediately explain how they would have stopped themselves.
The shorthand gives it away too. Nobody here says Commander; it is cEDH, four letters, and the tables talk in win conditions and interaction rather than in stories about their decks.
Colorado Boulevard, a few doors off Old Pasadena, Mondays from six, free to sit down.
Bring the deck somebody once told you was too mean for a normal table.