Before the typical pregame chatter ends, well wishes to the other players and the reliable banter to remind you that, yes, we are at casual event, their first land is slammed on the table. I wish this was hyperbole, but more often than not a mountain will hit the field lie it caught a bothersome fly in its path. Instead of jolting back, flustered and fumbling with my cards; I’ve learned to take a breath, hold a beat, and draw. It’s going to be a long night.

What do we talk about when we talk about tempo?

Often, we’re referencing the swing of resources in the game; who is ahead and how a potential trade may bring the turn into another’s favour or widen the lead. But the pace of the game, how you play the cards, is another avenue to test your opponent and yourself. There’s a rhythm to Magic, a sense of timing. Don’t get shaken, don’t stumble.

Prereleases are at their best when they’re easygoing, beginner friendly occasions to understand the latest set mechanics, energized by sought after cards or wicked synergies within a set. But I’ve matched with players who shake the table with the speed and force of their cards; turn one feels as decisive as reducing a life total to zero. To give them the benefit of the doubt, this may be their only chance to flex their competitive muscles in a Commander dominant scene. Besides, rarely have I met a slammer who is salty in equal measure.

And by nature, I’m not a slow or hesitant opponent. After goldfishing my near to near-precognition levels, I keep my turns moving along, calling for responses, waiting a beat to explain a card, then we carry on. The hours in a game night are fleeting and I’d hate to use more than my fair share.

With the number of triggers and effects incurred from the comings and goings of cards from the battlefield, I will never fault anyone for taking a breath, thinking it through. The alternative is emptyheaded play. After overloading your cortex with information, it feels better to button mash than to think through your lines. Wait a beat and narrow your focus. Narrow your options and follow your impulse to keep time with the rhythm.

M15 was released in the midst of the game’s digital identity crisis. It was unclear which hand was leading the other, though paper remained the dominant way to play. Through this confusion, somehow Garruk became the face of the latest core set, his black and white grimace remains my immediate picture of the core set; and possibly his last time being relevant until his reappearance in Reality Fracture.

The new designs for M15 have a reliable, if subdued legacy, compared to the years before. As a steadfast blue artifact player, several cards became the reliable toolbox for my early brews. The same handful of cards were once auto-includes; no question, jam them in. Chief Engineer was one of the worst offenders, as cheap cost reduction via convoke that played in the leanest artifact strategies, my builds became stagnant, calcified. EDH favours redundancy and Wizards has been all too happy to oblige — singleton, as aspirational rather than the reality espoused in a deck list. Widely applicable momentum builders, where artifacts beget artifacts, are a reliable way outside of land ramp to swing that tempo. Accumulate your mana rocks, never mind what the abrade aficionados and nonbelievers say.

To counterbalance, M15 provided valuable artifact and enchantment hate; though it asked more from its players than a simple sweeper. Reclamation Sage is a standout piece of pinpoint removal, only going further in a multiplayer environment. Though I was late to the EDH scene, cutthroat politics and bitter grudges were born from a timely elf hitting the field. More often than not, I lean on the political implications, testing the waters and diplomacy of my podmates to see if we can reach a bargain to deal with a must-answer threat at the table.

The internet is replete with think pieces on the politics necessary in a game of Commander, but rarely are you told exactly how. Far too often another player will lean too hard on their opponents and their stable advantage, asking for the world in their deals and undone when the rest of the table isn’t willing to play. Or they try to earn a little extra value from a clearly telegraphed play. Goodwill isn’t enough when a bargain is to be made.

A night at the LGS reminds me that players struggle to play the game within the game, forgetting that the soul of honest politics is often found in compromise. Better to limit your options, find focus rather than wait for magical Christmasland. Untap, upkeep and act on impulse.

Impulse draw had been explored before M15 — and not always in its customary red — but drawing the name from the core set’s Act on Impulse is another narrowing of focus, realigning to the rhythm and compromise. Draw three, cast what you can and the others go. You can’t have it all, and the explosion of exile draw strategies allow for a player to dispel their worst collector instincts. Get busy playing your cards, lest they get drawn into oblivion.

Once, cards like Thought Vessel or Reliquary Tower found a spot waiting for them in every deck. And why wouldn’t they? I curated a list of the finest, seriously top-tier, ninety-nine cards to align with my commander’s ethos and identity. What a shame it would be to lose a single card to an overambitious draw spell or attack trigger. Unless your strategy factors in extending your hand, tower and vessel have been booted off the list — often they’re generic mana producing security blankets. Exceptions abound, and my perspective is clouded as my graveyard is often a second malleable hand, but I had to learn the about exile and the fleeting nature of card.

There’s a distinct difference between sandbagging responses and cards rotting in your hand. Unlike in sixty-card formats, controlling on the stack is a near fool’s errand thrown into a multiplayer arena. You’re more likely to fall behind on value or hated off the table than taking the match. You hold onto a card, waiting for the mana, the moment; before it’s gone too quickly with wrath or removal. Better to blaze through your cards, feeding into exile than be paralyzed with anticipation or a crippling wealth of options.

Surely, the card keepers will opine, that exiling your cards inevitably leads to a time when the one saving grace is out of reach. Yes! It has happened before and it will certainly happen again. Play Magic for whatever reason you wish, though I found that Commander is when I’m willing to take the swings, leave the methodical step guides for Standard.

Since Act of Impulse was printed, red has lurched headfirst into exile. If you’re going to add fuel to that slice of the game, best make it lighter fluid. Newer revisions and interpretations are affixed with all sorts of additional outcomes and payoffs, though the guiding principle remains the same. Can you hear the beat? Better to find your grove rather than freeze waiting at the side. Cards are meant to be played, what better motivation than the threat of oblivion?