In late April, two League of Legends teams, Team Solomid (TSM) and Cloud9, squared off in the LCS Spring Split Finals, held at the Pacific Coliseum in Vancouver. The first two games were comical. TSM outclassed a frazzled Cloud9, taking a nearly insurmountable 2-0 lead in the best of five series. Cloud9 was down three games in the World Series. However, when a seemingly broken Cloud9 returned to the stage for a potentially fatal game three, their fire had been lit. Cloud9’s uninspired passivity gave way to creative aggression, and they took TSM to the house twice, forcing a hotly contested game five.
The Silver Scrapes played, and the group of 10 players and their coaches walked onstage in front of a crowd of 15,000. Cheers for both sides were slowly tuned out as the players focused in on the task at hand: winning. As fate would have it, that task would prove to be both arduous and volatile. Both teams played with a fervor unmatched by the previous games, and just over 40 minutes into the match, TSM was finally able to close out the series:
From a spectator’s point of view, this victory encompassed what I love about the competition of E-sports. The series was inundated with micro- and macro- strategies more complicated than the best of traditional sports. The story-lines and rivalries woven throughout and brought to a head by the series were fantastic. The raw talent and practiced skill on display were unparalleled. Players held back zero emotion, and the announcers highlighted every play and strategic nuance. All of these aspects of play certainly reflect traditional sports, but make themselves in subtle ways.
The players are all young. There is more shit-talking than a pre-bout weigh-in. Most of the players are nerds or geeks who found a calling. Language barriers are abundant. Some of the coaches are scientists. Some of the players are athletes. The E-sports scene is young and rapidly changing. There is an overwhelming sense of belonging. Players will practice for up to 18 hours a day to prepare for the matches. There are high-highs and low-lows. There is rarely any mediocrity.
In a lot of ways, we viewers share these mood swings since we see a lot of ourselves in the players on screen. But beyond all of this shared experience, this confusing world provides personal meaning for me. For me, E-Sports is a way to hold on to old bonds and create new ones.
I am incredibly thankful for the bonds that E-Sports has help cement. League of Legends provides me a new special connection with my older sister as she graduated and left for the west coast. “Did you see the Doublelift announcement?” -1:05 am. A welcome wake-up text from someone I miss. League has also created some irreplaceable memories with friends. Waking up at 5:30 am to catch the tail end of the LCK finals never felt difficult. Camping out in a room for hours to watch Hungrybox win EVO never seemed odd. Spending time and space with the people I love never was this easy.
I also cherish the new connections that E-sports has provided me, and will continue to provide me. New conversations and friendships stem from an interest in Rocket League or CS:GO. Lifelong bonds formed at The Boston Major while watching the Americans take down the Europeans. A language barrier broken at the Museum of Fine Arts with a smile, fist-bump, and a “C9!” in an accent nearly too thick to parse through.
I am certainly indebted to E-Sports. It takes a lot of time and effort to understand this strange world, but the journey of discovering its nuances and challenges is only the tip of the ice berg. I have invested a lot of resources in E-Sports, but the returns have been incredible. The world of E-Sports is not one of happy mediums. The world of E-sports is high-cost, high-reward.