EPT
Let's take a wobbly trip down memory lane!
*bump*
Grey.
That's how most foreigners dub England and it's hard to disagree. The skies are notorious for having adopted this demeanor, and the buildings that flank every road seem to have ripened into this complexion as well. Oh, and I'm a foreigner.
In the fall of 2007, I found myself in Cambridge, England. The skies were most certainly grey.
I was a graduate student, supposedly studying. Truth be told, I don't think I ever studied until 6 weeks before my examinations. I digress.
A few months earlier I had been suddenly thrust into the (un)enviable position of head administrator of TeamLiquid, spurred by Manifesto7's N'th departure from his usual post.
The fall of 2007 was a curious time, as it nestled itself between my inauguration to the high office and my eventual self-imposed exile. It was certainly the most productive I had ever been and ever would be, as an admin, staff, or writer for the site. This would eventually take a toll, but it had not manifested itself yet.
The StarCraft:Broodwar world would brace itself for the inevitable future. Bisu, fresh off of resounding victories over Savior and Stork in the previous two MSL's, would square off against Mind for MSL finals, set for November 17th, 2007. It was a foregone conclusion; Bisu would surely take seize his 3rd consecutive MSL title, and list his name among the greatest that ever played the game.
To witness this spectacle, a miraculously hodge podge group of TL'netters would assemble in London. A partial list of names that my now-senile brain can reconcile featured: Nazgul, Meat, Midian, Fireblast!, KizzBG, Jellycat, alffla, myself, and Kwark, the host. All told, we had the two founders of the site, U.K.'s best player, one of the original translators, the first head of the graphics team, the designer of the original TL shirt, the head admin, and at least one troll. Somehow. It was honestly bizzarre.
The only thing more bizzarre was me meeting Naz and Meat at Heathrow airport. I'm not even sure we really knew what we were doing. I think we had each others' cell numbers, and that was about it. We knew what each other looked like (sorta), and winged it. Somehow, we managed to find one another. I'm pretty sure Naz was wearing a hoodie, as always (does he ever not wear one?). We hopped in one of those signature London black taxis, and off we went.
And so we gathered in Kwark's humble abode. Did I say humble? I'm sorry, I meant to say god-forsaken. Well to be fair, the place itself was perfectly reasonable. We geeked the place out, with a barely functioning but passable LAN setup with ~10 computers, and an epic food run at Tesco. I recall Kwark shittalking Midian constantly, Midian brushing Kwark off, everyone staring at Midian's mutalisk micro, and Jellycat being stupendously jovial. Kwark beat Naz on some map that Naz had zero clue how to play. Naz was not amused, and Kwark's incessant shittalking did not help the cause.
(Kwark's a nice guy at heart, but at least in 2007, his shittalkery certainly eclipsed his nice-guy-ness)
The games were going to be early next morning, so we were spending the night. This is where things got ugly.
Kwark's place lost internet the day before. StarCraft ubergeeks in one location without internet is a sure recipe for disaster. The most vocally displeased were been Naz and Midian.
Well this alone would have been okay, but alas, Kwark had some fantastic roommates who proceeded to light more than their fair share of joints and blare some alarmingly high decibeled tunes. The percentage of displeased StarCraft ubergeeks rocketed from 25% to 100%. You can me in among the disgruntled.
The par-tay winds down for Kwark's splendid roommates (to be fair I don't think Kwark was quite fond of them either) around 2am, and some portion of us manages to catch some shut eye. Next morning, we're awake but groggy and not at all impressed at our bodily status.
Lesson to all: if you're hosting more than you're accustomed to, really think about wtf you're doing! People can get really pissed off if you undershoot their expectations! For crying out loud alffla endured an 8(?) hour train-bus ride to get down from Leeds to London!
Hokay, so fast forward to the morning. Kwark as mentioned before has no internet in his house. Games are obviously in Korea. Korea. London. No Internet. Brainfart.
We pack some random equipment (computer + cables?) and waggle our butts onwards to Kwark's friends house. I don't even remember if we walked or took a car. My guess is that we walked, but as mentioned previously, I'm old and senile (actually, I'll blame it on the concussion I suffered last month!).
Kwark's friend's place is a surprisingly clean and tidy place. We have an obscenely large supply of bacon, ham, and eggs, so a couple of us become impromptu chefs. Kwark(?) hooks up his computer to the TV and the internet, and voila! We have a stream working! It's 2007, so this must be some ghetto VLC relay stream we're using.
Bisu vs Mind. The crowd is supporting Bisu over Mind, 7:3. The Mind supporters? Naz, myself, and one or two others. After the obligatory KPoP shenanigans, the games start.
To be continued...
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