Beggar cavalry

At the ideal "Magic: The Gathering" tournament, the room is brightly lit and well ventilated. The competitors, who aren't exclusively male, have been in recent contact with running water, underarm and toothpaste. There are no serial snivellers or phlegmy coughers, spreading their dark blessings via clammy handshake like Nurgle's Champions. The facilities aren't cramped and the event runs to schedule.

This weekend's coverage of the Australian Nationals on Wizards.com kindled a desire in me to re-enter the "M:TG" arena to test my skill at creating and piloting decks, but it's an urge that, sadly, I must suppress. Because these days local tourneys seem to be the total opposite of the above model. When I hesitantly reported to a hobby store for one of the "M11" pre-releases, the atmosphere was akin to a convention for unwashed, plague-incubating, anarchist troglodytes with poor dental hygiene. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

(If you've stumbled on this and are feeling personally offended, let's assume you were among the exceptions at the P/R. But how could you stand that poisonous fug?)