Ms. Leonhart, Or: How I Learned to Stop Whining and Embrace the Meta (Part 7)
by Dani Diaz
Part 7: Self Doubt
This train is never late.
For me, excitement about competitive gaming moves in a predictable arc. First comes the questioning: “Do I have time to prep for this? Should I spend the little free time I have on deckbuilding and getting reps? Can I afford to travel?”
Once I get through these questions (usually with the encouragement of my partners and teammates), then the stress of deciding what to play begins. We’ve, uh, covered that extensively so far, so let’s move to the next part.
Pure excitement! Finding something that works, testing it, iterating on it, discussing with other players, iterating some more… In the moment, I feel like I could do that forever. It’s that creative process that keeps me coming back to the well again and again in UVS. There’s just so much you CAN do that it becomes addicting to explore.
But eventually, we come to our current state: the decklist is largely tuned, test games have been run over and over again, and I’m frankly kind of getting sick of playing it. I’m starting to question if I’m doing the right thing. I’m starting to doubt the entire process and by extension, myself. The Green Goblin mask on my wall starts to whisper into my ear.
“Are you actually ready, or are you going to embarrass yourself again?”
Andrew wrote a wonderful piece on burnout that we published recently, and a lot of it hit home for me (and for a lot of you at home, too). I’m guilty of hyperfixation, going all in on something until I’ve deemed myself or the project “good enough”, then quickly dropping whatever it is for another new and shiny objective. I knew this about myself when I started this Ms. Leonhart project, and I made a pact with myself to find something that worked and see it through ‘til the end.
No pivoting. No backpedaling. No excuses.
I’m particularly vulnerable to the opinions of people that I love and/or respect. When I started getting comments like “this deck works so well” and “this is the one, Dani” and “you gotta play this one”, I took it to heart. Yay, I finally did something right (with copious amounts of help from my team)! Winning games is great! I feel so alive!
Then I started losing games as others learned to counterplay me and sharpened their own decks to a razor-sharp edge. I started feeling the urge to tweak the list more, and I resisted. “It’s just gonna be your pile of cards and your experience versus their pile of cards and experience,” I thought to myself. “The experience is probably the thing that matters much more than the cardboard.”
So, we got more reps. We played in another locals, we played at Paul and Anna’s apartment, we played in online locals. My overall success rate was buoyed by the 3-0 in person locals and the 2-1 online locals, but my confidence was waning every game outside of those. I was losing more close games, and I was losing BADLY to things like Paul’s Porco Galliard Kickflips deck. The doubt continued to set in.
I hit a critical mass of gamer depression the Monday before the StarkDark Open Series 2.5K. I was convinced the deck was hard carrying me, and that I was actively griefing my cardboard through my own actions. My friends tried to cheer me up, noting that my game had gotten stronger, that I would probably outdo my previous results, and even if I didn’t there would be much better games in those sets. I remained unconvinced.
But, it did get me thinking.
I am a big believer in mindset when it comes to game psychology. I practiced a lot of visualization when I played as an ice hockey goaltender. I would mentally track the pucks into my glove, into my pads, into my chest protector, mimicking the movements I’d need to make on the ice. Those practice techniques would pay off in what felt like self-fulfilling prophecies. Of course the puck went right into my glove; I’d never seen it go anywhere else in my mind!
I’m also a big believer in look good, play good. I love having alt arts or foiled out decks when I can afford to, as well as theming my sleeves and deck box to match the aesthetics of my character. When I played sports, the uniforms were always the most important part to me. If I didn’t love how I looked in my gear, there was a good chance I would underperform. I know that sounds silly, but it’s true.
It's easy to get the aesthetics of a deck down, but there’s a stark difference between willing your body into the right positions and willing the right number to be at the bottom right corner of a card. I don’t think visualization works as well when you aren’t in complete control of your outcomes, despite the “just don’t check the 1” jokes that are pervasive in our community. But even though I knew that I was never in full control of the outcomes, I put the weight completely on my own shoulders.
I couldn’t control whether the card I flipped over had a 3 or a 6 in the bottom right corner, but I COULD control the situation I put myself in. I couldn’t control my draws, but I could control whether I set myself up for success in previous turns through proper board state analysis. There’s so much in UniVersus that is both within and without your control, which is what makes it such a frustrating game at times. The best players seem to have a preternatural ability to mitigate risk and find what they need to, when they need to. I haven’t quite gotten to that point yet, and I fear it’s a long way off. Experience is the great equalizer.
The correct answer in my mind was to trust the reps that I had, try to play smart, and hope that I’d constructed a deck that would accomplish its goals going into the 2.5K. I entered it into UGN and submitted it to the event when I could, locking in my tools and weapons for the event. The rest came down to me and how I performed.
It’s natural to doubt before a big event. It’s natural to worry that you’re underprepared and that others will have the answers to your strategies. A healthy amount of doubt is ok – it’s what makes the successes even sweeter.
I chose to be excited that I get to play my favorite game, my favorite deck, at my favorite game store. The team and I would have a great time and a great turnout no matter what happened, and we’d show that we have strong players from Jacksonville.
How did we do? Tune in this Thursday for my tournament report from the StarkDark Open Series 2.5K. Until then, keep coping my friends.