EPTThis is the only way I know how.
There was serious media there - people with huge cameras and boom mics and polo shirts with so-and-so written on it, long cords, bored expressions. They all seemed to know each other. One guy was extremely loud and obnoxious, though, joking with everyone and generally being disruptive. For these reasons, I liked him. I’m not sure who he worked for or what he was covering. I don’t think it was Starcraft.
So they’re all standing there, being them, and I’m standing there being me - in a stupid dress, dying for a cigarette, regretting putting makeup on due to it being hotter than your mum outside.
I feel out of place and ridiculous, but I am there.
We are getting ready for the media tour about four hours before spectators were to be let inside the venue. I fidget in my stupid black flat shoes that would later leave me with the biggest, most hideous blister on my left foot you’ve ever seen on a human. Esports blister™.
Katie, a personable woman with an infectious smile that makes you feel relaxed, finally led us inside.
I don’t know if you’ve ever walked into a theatre before the audience comes in before. People don’t go to the theatre anymore so I wouldn’t blame you if you never have had the pleasure of that experience. “Calm before the storm" is a common way of describing it, but I find that to be rather cliche. It’s more than that.
It’s like the room is simmering with energy; under the floor, in the walls, under chairs, like the space is almost breathing with anticipation. Hundreds upon hundreds of empty chairs lined up perfectly in their rows, lined up perfectly in their sections. Huge screens on stages - bright, fluorescent - casting a glow across those chairs, which cast shadows across the floor. The space is vast, deep and full of symmetry, oozing hours of planning.
That’s how walking into a theatre feels an hour or so before the show goes on, and that it how walking into Hall C of the Anaheim Convention Centre felt that morning - like a set stage, a perfect frame for any emotion that could possible occur in our world.
I stood back from everyone, mostly, and just stared. Knowing that in a few hours that space would be filled with thousands of people, unleashing whatever freakin’ voodoo nerd energy was hiding in these walls, was a lot to take in.
We’re led around and many things were explained to us, but to be honest, I couldn’t really concentrate. People were filming it - if there’s any footage of the media tour from whatever outlet, I’ll probably be in the background standing still, gaping at something or other.
We walked past the CoD and LoL stages, and I peered up at the big commentary tower between them - one desk for each game, elevated off the floor so they could be shot with the audience behind and below them. They’re in the middle of sound and camera checks.
One reporter yells out, “Is that the most handsome League of Legends commentator ever?!" and runs over to give the guy a hug.
(I don’t remember they guy’s name but I’ve seen him on LoL things.)
(It wasn’t Rivington.
I’d recognise him.
Sleepy eyes.)
I stay there for awhile and think about how cool it would be if SC2 had a tower like that - honestly, for all the bitching about “No-one puts SC2 in the corner" and whatnot, I think the lack of an elevated commentary platform for SC2 was the only let-down for me personally.
And it’s not even a real let-down, really. Just me being a brat.
I caught up with the group as we went by the Flipz stand. As they were being explained to us as a sponsor of the event, a guy from another media outlet was next to me. He’d taken a pack for himself already and had opened it. He tapped my arm and offered me one.
"What is it?" I asked.
He paused, then said “It’s free," and put it in my hand.
I frowned, then tried it. “White chocolate covered pretzel?"
He grinned and shrugged.
"…that’s fucked up," I mutter.
We’re shown the rest of the sponsor booths - the irony is not lost on me that one of them promotes quitting smoking - given beta keys to Infinite Crisis, pointed to the direction of the press room, then left to our own devices.
I stand again near the entrance as people scatter.
I look around, breathing slowly, like the walls.
