Oh fuck, it’s actually good, isn’t it?

Gentle reader, I may have made a huge mistake. 

My partner, Rune, enjoys collecting things. They’re a huge Pokemon fan and have been picking up cards here and there for years. He doesn’t play the game, nor is he an obsessive collector, but he likes the dopamine hit and checking out cute art of his favourite little guys. A couple of years ago, I spotted a box of boosters for the Magic: The Gathering, Battle for Baldur’s Gate set at a good price and bought them as a surprise. Rune was deep into Baldur’s Gate 3 at the time, and it was a well-received gift, leading to a pleasant afternoon of opening those little packs of cards with pretty pictures.

If that’s where it had ended, I wouldn’t have a problem.

Fast forward to 2025, there’s a Final Fantasy MTG set on the way, and Rune and I are playing a lot of the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV (with an expanded free trial which you can play through the entirety of A Realm Reborn and the award-winning Heavensward expansion up to level 60 for free with no restrictions on playtime.) Rune wanted to pick up some of the cards, which was fine, but then they uttered the fateful words: “I’d like to learn how to play the game.”

I like playing games, obviously, and I love being able to play them in the comfort of my own home with my lovely partner. Surely I’d be excited at the prospect of playing more games? Instead I felt the anxiety of stepping up to a ledge before leaping off. The fun kind of ledge, like a diving board, or one on the rim of a Scrooge McDuck-style money bin, but a ledge nonetheless, complete with that feeling that you’re about to take a step that you absolutely cannot take back.

The thing is, MTG and I have a history.