It was the Magic: The Gathering game of Frank Jr. Molley’s life. After 10 hours of fast and hard Magic, the pro-tour qualifier in Montreal took Molley for all he had. He went 0-9 and fell short of his dream to travel the world playing the game he loves.
Frustrated, Molley left the Lions Club and threw his $700 deck into the gutter.
“This is it,” he said. “I’m never believing…you know, when you believe you just have the best deck?” And he stopped believing in the magic of Magic.
That was 12 years ago and not the first time he swore off Magic for good.
“There was one time I was so upset, I took all my Magic cards out of my house and I put them in my backyard and I made a fire and I burned them,” he said.
“It’s a love/hate, Magic.”
But lately, it’s love.
In February of 2010, when Molley was once again playing, he and friend John Russell wanted a place where the rules and true sportsmanship of the game would be respected. That place became St. Thomas University’s Magic the Gathering club.
You’ve probably seen them playing in James Dunn Hall almost any day of the week. They go to Friday Night Magic every Friday at Gamezilla on Prospect Street where they play from 6 p.m. until 1 a.m. or later. The club even received $300 from the students’ union last semester, making them an official campus group.
Approximately 12 million people play Magic around the world. The game is simple enough: It’s a battle between two “planeswalkers” (players), and whoever loses their 20 life-points first dies. But Molley says the strategy of the game is complicated. He keeps up to date on new game tactics by reading articles and watching the pros.
As many times as Molley has sworn he’ll never play again, it’s the true magic of the game that brings him back.
“I think it opens doors to friendships. Opens doors to going on journeys with your friends, out of a piece of cardboard.”
The others around the table nod.
“Two of my best friends that I know will be my best friends for the rest of my life, I know from Magic,” said Zack Paul, as he pointed toward Molley and first-year student Ian McKessock across the table. “I know they’ll be there with me when I’m 80.”
“We’ll probably still be playing Magic,” Molley added.
Here, there are four of the eight club members. There’s 30-something-year-old Molley, 20-year-old Zack, confined to a wheelchair but ceaselessly joking about being “quick on his feet” or too hotheaded to “walk away.” David Brooks, whose long hair trails well below his shoulders, isn’t a student at STU, but still a welcome member, and McKessock.
“Magic opens you up to a whole new world.[It] opens you up to a whole new perspective,” Paul said.
Paul said Magic helps to keep him out of trouble, even in his dreams. While undergoing a disciplinary hearing last semester, Paul dreamed Larry Batt offered him a deal.
“To get your charges dropped,” Batt told him. “You’re going to have to play a game of magic.”
“I eat, sleep and breathe magic now,” Paul said.
