EPTDickens was not a starcraft player, but the man knew what it meant to win and what it meant to lose. For every winner, a loser. For a every dream, a nightmare. And the fine players of the University of Ottawa of starcraft team went to bed uneasily last night, unaware of which fate would welcome them when their eyes closed.
The enemy: Harvard. A name regal enough to strike fear into the hearts of men and boys alike. A name that haunts with images of success and dedication. A veritable starcraft dynasty awaited our brave soldiers.
But on this day, the Ottawains were not alone, and not afraid. Under the fearless leadership of this forums own savant, Chef, they had a vision.....
Chef gathered his team around him, and began to channel the thoughts of Boxer on an OSL stage, the ideas of Flash in an OSL semi-final and together they spoke one word..... CHEESE. Chef made us swear a vow that day, that we would teach those Harvard laureates what it meant to fight dirty. Starcraft was to no longer be a gentleman's endeavour: This was war.
The plan: An all zerg line-up. Five sets, 5 pools. It made perfect sense and so the deed was done.
Ottawa's champions were chosen, and set out to face their ivy clad adversaries on an ICCup battlefield, already stained with the blood of their comrade Carleton University.
Harvard's hubris was made crystal clear when they delayed posting their lineup by the deadline, throwing all caution to the wind by taking an instant set 5 loss. But there was no way a feeble Canadian team could make it past set three, this was a modern e-david versus an e-goliath.
Set 1 Belonged to Thratur, but with both players being trapped by mysterious walls of fire, the battle could not be joined, yet. Meanwhile set 2 raged on and the stalwart Ottawatian TheNearl was laid to rest by an early scout. With fire in his eyes Onisparda stepped up to avenge his fallen brother, and using TheNearl's sacrifice to fuel his rage he 5 pooled with more daring than any player since 1.07 securing a victory for shaken Ottawa team. The channels were abuzz, the gargantuan had been wounded, could it be possible? Could it be killed?
It was here that the hands on the clock that would seal the fate of both teams were set in motion. Thratur, fleeing the constraints of his firewalled dormitorium would run the 2 kilometres needed to reach my home and carrying on with the struggle, whilst I battled on in Set 4. But little did he know, young Thratur was racing towards disaster...
To be continued.
