Dear Goblin Lackey,

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You are trash. You define bad gameplay. I despise you, I loathe you, you don’t deserve any praise, yet you bring fear in every game you are played. I want to shove you into a volcano, with the explanation you were wearing The One Ring, but we all know it was you who needed to melt.

Goblins are the most fun, interesting race to have ever been played within Magic. It’s chaos, they are fun, they are direct, and all bring very interesting games. All have a good place in aggro or midrange decks. All popping at appropriate times in the game, ready to rumble and make a fun, interactive game. Except for you, boring, ultimate enabler of non-games. You drop like an uninvited guest at a wedding, crash the place, and leave everyone guessing if you were the brother, cousin or nephew of the bride, or the groom.

I’ve built so many fun, interactive, interesting pre-modern decks, only to look at your green skin, hating the fact I didn’t draw my Swords to Plowshares or why my Smother costs so much mana. I even tried to block with my Birds of Paradise, only to get set into the Stone Age with your buddy Mogg Fanatic or Gempalm Incinerator. You’re basically the Magic equivalent of stepping on a LEGO in the middle of the night, small but excruciatingly painful.

You’re not just a Magic card. You’re a tiny red nightmare, you’re a Trojan Horse but ugly, you’re the sigh in my disappointed face trying to have a feeling of mental game. My actions didn’t matter, yes, I lost, yes, I’m salty, thanks for nothing Goblin Lackey. No, I don’t want to tell you what I brewed this match and what my strategy could be. Get banned, get away, thanks.

Yours in smoldering frustration,

Danny