GRINDER:

THE BRAD NELSON STORY

by Rich Hagon

Copyright © 2011 by Rich Hagon

Edited by Glenn Jones

Published and distributed by StarCityGames.com

Cover design by Kristen Plescow

Book design by Lauren Lee

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or

mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without

permission in writing from the publisher. The only exception is by a reviewer, who

may quote short excerpts in a review.

Wizards of the Coast, Magic: The Gathering, and Magic: The Gathering Pro Tour are

trademarks of Wizards of the Coast LLC, a subsidiary of Hasbro, Inc., in the United

States and other countries. © 2009 Wizards of the Coast LLC. All rights reserved.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To our families, for supporting us over so many years. To all the many

friends we've made around the world. To our readers, listeners, and viewers,

who make it all worthwhile. To the staff behind the scenes at

StarCityGames.com who have worked tirelessly to see this project through to

fruition. To Wizards of the Coast, the people who make Magic the best game

in the world.

From Rich, a special thank you to all the wonderful people of North Dakota.

For sharing your homes, your food, your stories, and your friendship, you

guys are the best.

And finally to you, dear reader, for joining us on the journey.

Many and heartfelt thanks,

Rich and Brad

In loving memory of

Patricia Anne Hagon

1934 - 2010

FOREWORD

Fargo, March 2011

It has been, quite frankly, an astonishing week. For the last seven days I have

lived with Brad Nelson, laughed with (and sometimes at) Brad Nelson, and

listened to Brad Nelson as his story has unfolded. How often do we get the

opportunity to spend something like one hundred hours engaged in intimate

conversation with someone who has reached the peak of their craft? How

often do we get to spend day after day exploring the inner workings of a very

special human mind? And how often do we get to uncover the fundamental

truths that separate the extraordinary from the merely very good?

Of course, to listen and to record and to quest for understanding is only half

of the equation. Any book like this can only be as good as the subject is

prepared to make it. When I arrived in North Dakota, Brad and I were not

close friends. I knew that he was smart, a tremendous Magic player, and that

I had always enjoyed our occasional professional conversations at various

events around the world.

I arrived with an outline of a story; a story of wins and losses shaped by the

major highs and lows of Brad's Magic career. I leave with something

profoundly more interesting, more challenging, and more humbling. I leave

with insight into another human being—an insight achieved purely because

Brad allowed it.

This book does not judge Brad Nelson. That he has achieved considerable

success in his chosen field is beyond doubt, as is the fact that he has paid a

price for that success. Whether that price was worth paying is something for

every reader to consider, because at the heart of this book is a simple question

with an infinitely complex answer.

How do I succeed?

This book is largely about the Magic: The Gathering Trading Card Game

because that is the arena in which Brad plies his trade—if you're unfamiliar

with the game, I suggest visiting the appendix, "More about Magic." Yet this

book could be about accountancy, politics, theater, architecture, poker, or any

sport under the sun. Anything, in fact, that involves the pursuit of excellence.

While the success Brad has achieved is far from a universal experience, his

story is precisely that: it's the story of someone who has a goal and sets out to

achieve it.

Enjoy the ride.

R.

PROLOGUE

In the Event of a Tie

"**** Magic."

—Brad Nelson

Chiba, Japan. December 12th, 2010—the final day of the professional

season, the final day of the Magic: The Gathering World Championship.

Eight players have reached the Sunday stage, and they will battle for a

combined payout of close to $250,000 dollars. The quarterfinals and

semifinals are over. Now only two players remain, going head to head

under the pitiless glare of spotlights both literal and metaphorical as they

vie to secure the title before a global audience that spans hundreds of

countries and contains millions of players and fans.

Away from the hundreds watching the arena on a giant video screen, away

from his friends, and away from well-wishers he just doesn't want to have

to deal with, one man paces. This lumbering giant of a man peers with

intense blue eyes out of a rounded, deeply-forested face. It doesn't take a

genius to look into those eyes and see a man whose world is slowly falling

apart.

You would be hard-pressed to guess what he does for a living. If this were

wrestling, he'd be "The Mountain Man" or "The Great Bear." Without the

beard, maybe "The Baby-Faced Assassin." Perhaps he's a security guard. If

so, you wouldn't want to pick a fight with him—drunk or sober. In truth,

he most closely resembles an offensive lineman for the Minnesota Vikings.

Meet our hero, Brad Nelson.

Brad doesn't make his living with his body. He isn't a security guard or a

football player, and this isn't wrestling. Yes, there's something Incredible

about this Hulk, but it isn't the massive power generated from monolithic

shoulders. This man's power lies elsewhere.

Where it counts, there is nothing slow about Brad Nelson. He has the speed

of Usain Bolt, the fastest man alive, between his ears. His mind harbors the

machine-like analysis of Peyton Manning, future Hall of Fame football

quarterback. His eyes twinkle with the Machiavellian cunning of Phil

Jackson, legendary Los Angeles basketball coach. He possesses a

mathematical prowess that would put poker professional Daniel Negreanu

to shame. Most of all, Brad bears the ruthless will to win that every truly

great sportsman requires.

And he is losing.

It isn't meant to be like this. For most of 2010 he has been just about as

dominant a force as a game played with cards will allow. The Magic: The

Gathering Pro Tour sees players from around the world bring personalized

decks of cards to huge tournaments. There they compete for days,

culminating in a Top 8 where the elite display their skills. With thousands

of cards to choose from and an ever-changing landscape of available

options, this is the ultimate test of gaming skill.

Hundreds of players—sometimes thousands—compete at each major

event, but only eight will reach the knockout stages of the final day. The

chances of reaching the hallowed Top 8 for the average player are

miniscule.

In 2010, Brad's Top 8 success rate is close to 50%.

It's outrageous, unexpected, and completely unprecedented. As the Pro

Tour has crisscrossed the globe from California to Kuala Lumpur, from San

Diego to San Juan, from Sweden to Sydney, and at last to Japan for the end-

of-year finale, Brad Nelson has built a virtually unassailable lead in the race

for Player of the Year, Magic's ultimate accolade.

And yet...

And yet Guillaume Matignon, an unheralded twenty-nine year-old

professional from Bordeaux, France, is systematically ruining what was

meant to be a coronation. For Brad, it is rapidly turning into a wake. At the

end of the first day of competition, Matignon sits so far back in the field

that you almost need a telescope to see him. His Top 8 chances were

balanced on the point where mathematical improbability intersects with

mathematical impossibility. Since that precarious point, Matignon has done

nothing but win, and win, and win again. Now, in the finals of the World

Championship, he faces fellow Frenchman, fellow traveller, fellow

roommate, and even fellow Guillaume: Guillaume Wafo-Tapa, a former

Pro Tour Champion.

If Matignon wins, defying odds that would quail the heart of even the most

ardent chip-and-a-chair Vegas hopeful, he will make Magic history and

force a tie in the Player of the Year race. There will also be the not-

inconsiderable matter of $45,000 for becoming World Champion—but it is

the tantalizing glimpse of a Player of the Year playoff that occupies the

minds of most watchers.

For Brad, the prospect isn't tantalizing. It is sickening.

In truth it's his own fault, and he knows it. While some of his rivals have

been piling up miles on their airline loyalty cards, Brad has arrived at this

position of global dominance in a manner that borders on the insouciant.

He has resolutely refused to chase Pro Points at far-flung events, preferring

to stay home while others attempted to bridge the gap his stellar run of

Top 8 performances have created. It's ironic that this most perceptive and

reflective of characters has only just come to the realization of how

important the Player of the Year title is to him at the very moment when he

is most helpless to influence the outcome.

So he paces.

He has been undone by a welter of experiences he has yet to process, the

weight of global expectation he hasn't been able to carry, media obligations

that have forced him out of his Zen-like comfort zone, a tournament

schedule that has left him physically and mentally exhausted, and, above

all, by a series of must-win matches that he simply hasn't won.

The drip-drip-drip of pressures both real and imagined constitutes a form

of mental torture that even Torquemada would envy. The unkindest cut of

all comes in the final: the Torture of Hope. While the door to salvation

remains however tentatively ajar, Brad Nelson must continue to believe

that Wafo-Tapa will do him the greatest of all favors. He must believe that

he will hold the Player of the Year trophy aloft before the eyes of the world.

So he paces.

Finally, mercifully, it is over. In the battle between these French roommates

and best friends, it is Matignon who has triumphed, Matignon who is the

2010 World Champion, and Matignon who has forced the first ever playoff

for the Player of the Year title. Backstage, a deluge of emotions—none of

them good—crash against Nelson's psyche, and he knows this is a time

when only family will do.

"To be honest, I just hid for a while," Brad recalls. "It was a very, very sad

time. I wanted to come home and show off a trophy. I couldn't win Player

of the Year any more—I could only lose it. It felt like something that was

already mine was taken away from me. I know it wasn't the case, but it felt

as if the title was being stolen. Matignon is a good player, and he's now a

good friend, but he'd come out of nowhere. He had two huge finishes and

got 48 Points from those two events. That's unreal.

"For the first time in a while, I needed parental reassurance. When you're a

kid, there are times that you think the world is ending, even though of

course it isn't, and you just need a hug. Right then, I needed blood."

He calls his father Jess, who is watching every moment of the Top 8 back in

Bismarck, North Dakota. This is meant to be a moment of high elation—a

final justification for all the hard work and heartache, a glorious conclusion

to an incredible Grind, and a reward for all the support that loving parents

lavish upon their offspring. Instead, this is as difficult a moment as the

Nelson family has faced during Brad's time in the game.

Brad's pain echoes in his father's words. "I just felt so bad. My heart

reached out to my boy who was in a lot of pain. I could tell in his voice that

he was just crushed, that the walls had just come tumbling down."

Also watching that fateful afternoon is Brad's grandmother Delila, a

woman of indomitable spirit. Delila religiously follows every scrap of

information about her "little buddy," so she already knows what has

transpired. "I was sitting there and thinking, 'Well, you may have won the

World Championship Mr. Matignon, but you haven't won Player of the

Year.' We still had a chance."

Grandma Delila has it right. In the event of a tie, the regulations call for a

playoff to determine the destination of the title. This is uncharted

territory—as the supposed final day of the season comes to a close, nobody

knows what form the playoff will take. All anyone can say with certainty is

that the world will have to wait until a date with destiny in Paris, France

on Valentine's Day weekend to discover exactly who will be crowned

Player of the Year 2010.

Delila puts it best. "He was down, but he hadn't lost yet."

With two months to wait before the playoff against Matignon, Brad will

eventually place the World Championship events into perspective.

"Some website nominated my Worlds week for 'Most Depressing

Performance of 2010.' I won nearly $11,000 that week. Seriously, that was a

bad weekend?"

However, as he lies in the silence and solace of his hotel room, the memory

of watching Matignon hoist the World Championship trophy high is

painfully fresh and perspective is not so easy to come by. As he closes the

door on the most painful chapter of his career to date, Brad has time for

one last primal thought.

"**** Magic."

CHAPTER ONE

North Dakota

"From that moment on, I decided that killing things wasn't something I needed to

do."

—Brad Nelson

Bradley Jess Nelson is born on May 21st, 1986, to mother Laurie, a

secretary, and father Jess, a postal worker. Both in their early 20's, they

marry young and soon want to start a family. Although he would never

admit to a preference ahead of time, Jess is thrilled to be the parent of a

baby boy. They're tremendously happy parents, but Jess and Laurie's

relationship fails with Brad still little more than a baby. Jess moves on to

fresh pastures while remaining in close contact with his son, leaving Brad

to grow up in the care of his mom and Grandma Delila.

It's easy to think in terms of stereotypes, and Brad lives in a world

surrounded by the kind of images that dominate the stylized Failing

America documentaries. Try "single moms," "broken homes," and "trailer

parks" to get the ball rolling—add in emotive words like "drugs" and

"prostitution" and you've got a whole HBO miniseries waiting to happen.

But, like many of the best true stories, the reality is a lot more prosaic than

the headlines that accompany it.

Brad is quick to deconstruct the obvious associations. "So, the trailer park

thing. Yes, there were a lot of poor families. I mean, you wouldn't choose to

be there if you were rich. There were a lot of Native Americans, a few

single guys, lots of single moms with their kids. Not many families. There

were some drug problems, mostly meth, and there was this one woman

who persuaded men to pay for sex under her trailer. I guess there was a

little petty crime. So, if you want to say that this was the bad part of North

Dakota, then you can say that. But let's be clear—the bad part of North

Dakota is nowhere even close to actually being bad."

Whereas the north side of town has all the nice homes, all the trailer kids

live on the south side. Despite the potential social problems, Brad has a

good early education: first at Roosevelt Elementary and later at Fort

Lincoln Elementary once he reaches third grade. Both are good schools

with good teachers and their graduation rates are high.

It's well-known that children can adapt to almost any circumstance and

regard it as a normal part of life, but listening to Jess makes it seem as if it

was always going to take something significant to disrupt the young Brad's

calm.

"Right from the start, he was a contented child. He had a wonderful

temperament. Most kids want their own way all the time, but he never

seemed to mind if things didn't go his way. There were no real temper

tantrums, and he was always thinking. He was a real deep thinker."

With some children, it's readily apparent very early that they have special

gifts, but one of the intriguing things about Brad is that he's rarely been a

standout. In many ways, he remains entirely the provincial kid. Spending

time with him reveals all kinds of surprising gaps in his knowledge. Brad

claims never to have read an entire book from cover to cover, struggles

with writing his weekly articles, and finds his forays abroad to be dizzying

cultural experiences that are difficult to process.

Despite these quirks, there are early signs of at least one area where Brad is

destined to excel. A happy accident occurs when Brad is three years old

which puts him on the path to his current dominance of a game that

demands phenomenal mental athleticism.

"Whenever we went out to eat, Mom would be really terrible at

remembering to bring things for me to do. I didn't have anyone to talk to,

and I got bored really easily. So one time, she dug through her handbag to

see if there was anything that could keep me quiet, and the only thing she

could come up with was a calculator."

The young Brad is instantly hooked. There's something about the numbers

that really appeals to him, and it's quickly apparent at school that, at least

when it comes to math, he's the real deal. This is good, because it turns out

there's a prize to be had by being quick on the draw. "Every day, right

before playtime, we had to do a mental math quiz, and whoever got the

right answer first got to be first out the door. That was me, every time!"

By the time Brad is five, his dad has entered another relationship. Cindy

Baumeister duly gives Jess a second son, named Corey. It seems as if the

breakup of Laurie and Jess is genuinely one of those rare occasions when

separations leave minimal scarring. Another bullet gets dodged when

Laurie Nelson and Cindy Baumeister become close. That unlikely

friendship allows Jess to spend time with both his boys and also ensures

that Brad and Corey spend lots of time together.

While Corey is technically Brad's stepbrother, Brad never sees it that way.

"I always introduced Corey as my brother and that wasn't just because it

was easier to explain," Brad says. "He truly felt, and feels, like my brother.

In a lot of ways, we had all of the good stuff of being brothers, but none of

the bad stuff. We weren't competing with each other for parental attention,

we didn't have to share a room, and yet we got to spend time together

doing cool stuff. By the time I was ten and Corey was five, we were really

good friends."

At elementary school, Brad is as close to invisible as a kid can get. He's not

competitive and he gets into very little trouble. Brad is just a very passive,

responsible, and quiet young man. He's bigger around the middle than

most and gets teased for it, but it's a long way from systematic bullying. At

home, with Laurie working hard to keep things together, Brad spends a lot

of time with his grandma Delila, who collects him every day from school.

When it comes to games, Jess introduces him to many of the staple card

games that get handed down from generation to generation—games like

Pinochle, Rummy, and Whist. Jess also introduces Brad and Corey to video

games, and they spend many happy hours exploring the worlds of

Nintendo and playing all the early games in the Mario franchise. While

Brad enjoys the cards and quite simply loves the video games, he dismisses

a typical children's favorite: board games.

"You will never find me playing a board game, ever," he says. "We used to

play Monopoly, and it just seemed like it was the worst game ever. I hated

that game. When I go to Magic tournaments and I see people playing board

games in between rounds, I think, 'How is that even possible?' They could

be playing Magic!"

For the most part, Jess and his boys spend a lot of time on more active

pursuits. Both boys love bowling and tennis, while Corey in particular

enjoys basketball. Brad spends some weekends with Grandpa Heck,

travelling the thirty miles to Fort Rice in order to fish, but the outdoorsman

life is not for Brad.

"My uncles used to take me hunting, and to start with I guess it seemed

fine. Then, I suppose I was about eight years old, and I was just fooling

around and decided to take my BB gun and shoot at a bird in our garden. I

didn't do enough to kill it, and I just watched as it fell to the ground and

kept trying to get up," he recalls. "It couldn't fly and I'd destroyed its

wings, and eventually it just died. It was utterly traumatizing, and from

that moment on I decided that killing things wasn't something I needed to

do."

As Brad enters his teenage years, he's increasingly drawn to the virtual

worlds of computerized role-playing games, or RPGs. Many of these

originate in Japan—titles like Chrono Trigger, Secret of Mana, and the

ultimate console series: Final Fantasy. While some players love to immerse

themselves in the alternate timelines of these lovingly-created worlds, Brad

is supremely unconcerned with the fate of whichever princess happens to

need saving that week. Instead, it's the addictive puzzle-solving that draws

him back to the console night after night.

"What I loved, particularly about the Final Fantasy series, was that you had

to be really creative to progress in the game. Looking back, I now realize

that the way you had to marshal your characters and choose the right

combination of spells and abilities for them to beat the specific monster

ahead was giving me the deckbuilding skills I would ultimately use in

Magic. In a way, what you're trying to do is look into the future, imagine

what the monster might do, and draw up plans to defeat it—in effect by

stacking your deck with the right cards you need."

There's no doubt that the best of these RPGs can be deeply strategic. Games

like Pokémon help turn people who play games into Gamers, with the

powers of analysis to take them to the next level. That constant process of

finding the optimal play, often against the clock and a thoroughly devious

AI opponent, pushes Brad's mind into channels recognizable by any

professional gamer, whatever their chosen discipline.

"Most people are just playing these for fun and are unaware of the skills

that they're developing. But if you sit a gamer down with a non-gamer and

give them both a new RPG to play, you can very quickly see the differences

in the way that their minds work."

Although Brad has no real interest in these virtual worlds for their own

sake, they do provide one vital element to the teenager—an escape from

the real world. Not that life is particularly bad for him. Brad's generally

happy with his lot and continues to be an excellent friend and mentor to

his brother Corey, but battling Sephiroth and the evil mega-corporation

Shinra allows him to put off contemplation of an uncertain future.

"I was the first of the next generation in my family. I knew I was fairly

smart and my family knew I was fairly smart, but you have to remember

that none of my family had ever been to college so it wasn't an automatic

assumption for me. Pretty much throughout my life, I've focused on the

things that are directly in front of me on my path. Everything else isn't

relevant to me and so it's as if it just doesn't exist. The fourteen-year-old

Brad Nelson has no clue what the twenty-four-year-old Brad Nelson is

going to look like. I didn't know what I wanted to do and I didn't want to

have to take the decisions necessary to bring that future into focus."

For Jess, it's these early teen years that show him just how smart a guy Brad

is becoming. "It was probably around about thirteen when I realized he

was super-smart. I was working the early morning postal round, but there

would be times when Brad and I would stay up half the night just sitting

and talking, and some of those conversations he would just come

completely from left field. He was always thinking outside the box, and he

doesn't go by opinion or take things at face value."

Jess realizes that his boy focuses on whatever is put in front of him, so he

decides to put a new challenge in front of Brad: golf. It is an inspired move.

Initially, Jess does this with no more motivation than a good walk and

some quality father and son time, but it's soon apparent that something

deep inside Brad has been given life for the first time. "We're a really close

family, and we've always believed in doing things well," Jess explains. "My

brother Jim got involved in competitive shooting and became a tournament

champion. Whether it's darts, bowling, tennis, or just being a postal

worker, we believe in doing it as well as you can. It's like that old saying, 'If

you're not first, you're last.' I honestly believe that if our family were

crooks, we'd be the best crooks in the country because we do things right."

Listening, Grandma Delila nods her approval to much of this. With a

twinkle in her eye, she adds,

"It's all right there in our family motto: 'Work hard, play hard, drink hard!'"

For Brad, golf uncorks something special. "I'd been playing football at

school and I guess I was pretty good at it, but I never really liked it. You

were such a small part of such a big team, it felt like you couldn't really

influence the outcome. On the console games I was playing it was you

against the machine and the responsibility for winning and losing was all

yours. That's what I loved about golf. The score is irrelevant, the outcome is

irrelevant—it's just an endless battle of you against yourself. The same is

true in Magic; your own worst enemy is yourself, and then there's the guy

sitting across from you."

One big part of a golfer's game is muscle memory. Thousands upon

thousands of repetitions allow the player to create the perfect swing,

smoothly following the paths his muscles have learned over months or

even years of practice. Any weekend golfer will tell you it isn't easy, and

Brad quickly works out the problem.

"Emotion is the absolute enemy of muscle memory. You tense up, your

muscles forget what that perfect swing feels like, and all of a sudden you're

way over par. To start with, I couldn't control myself. I tilted constantly,

spiraling downwards in on myself, and basically guaranteed that I'd play

worse and worse. I used to smash clubs all the time when it wasn't going

my way."

Brad gradually learns to master his emotions and let his metronomic

response take command, and he becomes a talented player. "He was really

good," Jess says. "He could hit a six-iron further than I could hit a driver. I

started taking him to tournaments and he was doing really well, even

against guys who were older. To begin with I thought it was just natural

talent, but I began to see that it was his drive to excel, and to be better than

everyone else, that was pushing him onwards."

Although a subtle distinction, it isn't merely the fact that Brad likes to win

that spurs him to greater heights. "Actually, it's fear of losing. I simply hate

to lose, especially when it feels like I've beaten myself. Whether it's golf or

Magic, making yourself lose through mental weakness is a horrible feeling

and I just hate it. I'll do whatever it takes to avoid that feeling."

Both father and son agree that the actual outcome doesn't matter, using

near-identical words to describe Brad's approach. "Brad always wants to

leave everything out there on the course or at the table," Jess says. "If he can

look himself squarely in the eye and say that he's done his absolute best,

then the final outcome doesn't matter to him. It's all about doing his best

every time, no matter what."

At fourteen, another passion enters Brad's life. No, not girls—he's painfully

shy and has zero success, so he gives them up as a game not worth playing,

for now. Brad's newest passion is another computer game: StarCraft. Set in

the 26th century, three races compete to control the galaxy. Each has a

unique set of powers that makes the game almost endlessly replayable. In

South Korea the game becomes enormous, with players competing in huge

tournaments for hard cash. For Brad, the real-time strategy leaves his brain

fizzing with new ideas, as he now takes the lessons he's learned from the

Final Fantasy series and applies them at warp speed.

It's here in the StarCraft universe that Brad creates his online persona, one

that will become famous within the Magic Online community. "You had to

choose a user name to compete online, and I always thought it should

reflect a little bit of you in some way. I was such a massive fan of the Final

Fantasy series, so I came up with 'FFfreaK' as my nickname. Then when I

started playing Magic Online, the name just stuck."

One way and another, Brad has multiple escapes from daily life, but he still

feels his life is on an uncertain track toward a future he cannot yet fathom.

"I thought my life was going to be on rails when I was forty. I had no idea

what I was going to do. Maybe something with numbers, which I liked—

accounting, banking? Again, it was just the sense that I was doing

whatever was put in front of me. My life was very simple. Eight hours

sleep, eight hours of work, eight hours of hobbies. It never really occurred

to me that there was anything else."

But there is something else, a something else that will utterly overwhelm

all of Brad's previous passions and crumble them to dust. That something

is a card game called Magic: the Gathering and it's going to change his life

forever.