When Milkis was translating Korean netizen reactions to Stephano's IPL3 victory, I joked to him that European netizen reactions would be more along the lines of "Yeah duh, that's what we've been saying for months." Indeed, the French Zerg's triumph in Atlantic City brought out the hipster in many of us who had been watching Stephano grow from an unknown who almost qualified for TSL3, to arguably the best Zerg outside of Korea. But no matter how highly regarded he was, there's no denying that the fact that he won the entire tournament was a true surprise. Coming in a month of unparalleled foreigner success, Stephano's victory stands out because of both the toughness of the competition and because Stephano won without Korean training or even Korean-esque training. We'll inevitably have to talk about recalculating the Korea-Foreigner gap, but for the moment, it's worthwhile just to admire Stephano's play, and what he does to put himself above his competitors.


The first key to Stephano's victory is that his basic mechanics are extremely strong. Around, and well past the time where many Zergs begin to float over 1000 minerals, Stephano usually keeps his around 400-600, an amount that allows him to both keep an army on the field, yet also gives him some flexibility to react to unforeseen circumstances. For a while Zergs believed that stockpiling larva and minerals was a wise late game decision, but Stephano's play demonstrates the relative value of spending money immediately, as long as you make the right choices and use your army effectively. Stephanos' map vision is also superlative, certainly the first foreign SC2 player who really resembles BW players in spotting small instant blips on the mini-map. Stephano's multi-task and micro are also strengths, although they are at a level that is equaled by several other Zergs.

These are the basic mechanics for any Zerg. But Stephano also has an excellent understanding of the game, and is especially strong against the random timing attacks the dictate much of SC2 play. Part of this is surprisingly less of an even keel, and more of a series of overreactions. A typical Stephano win comes from scouting an attack; overproducing on defense, crushing the attack through numbers, and then counter-attacking, while going on a greedy droning spree behind it. But the unpredictability of Stephano's drone and army cycles makes it difficult to be 'cute' against him. At the same time it's necessary to put some kind of pressure on Stephano, as he is more than comfortable to take a free economic victory. This is the dilemma that a skilled Zerg can put on an opponent, yet few people take advantage of the explosive nature of larva inject. Stephano makes strong commitments to units or to economy, doesn't hedge, and then in the case that he's wrong, he's quite good at finding some use for his investment.

Finally, more than any Zerg in the world, Stephano does all the little things right. That doesn't make him the best, but it gives him little edges here and there that become wins in the long run. Consider the following points and how they become wins:

• Stephano's overlord spreading is superb, he almost never accumulates a cloud of useless overlords sitting over his natural, but instead has them dropping creep all over future expansions, floating over common drop paths, and most crucially ringing his entire base. This aids his map vision, decision making, and macro considerably, as it gives him an extremely accurate idea of how the gaming is going.
  
  
• Stephano also usually overproduces queens early, which allows him to be safe, but also allows him to spread creep better, to quickly cover a macro hatch, or to supplement troops in the field. It's a no-brainer that is not often repeated, but queens (especially) with transfusion are a powerful addition to early, mid, and late game armies. Stephano is never irrationally afraid to make more than he might need at the moment.
  
  
• Another small thing is Stephano's famous building placement. In the heyday of the blue-flame hellions, Stephano was notorious on the EU ladder for making absurd walls around his bases to prevent hellions from killing him. While the recent BFH nerf has tempered his walling habit somewhat, the lessons of building placement have not been lost on him, and he is still quite good at making his buildings count.
  
  
• Last of the obvious and most interesting traits, Stephano reliably sinks late game minerals into mass spine crawlers; at fringe bases against Terran, and in the middle of the map against Protoss. This is a great investment that Stephano incorporated into his game well before most. Spines are similar to lurkers and siege tanks, not in their destructive capability, but because of their power to delay the enemy and control space. Because Zerg can make so many of them for so little, they're an obvious choice in the late game, and Stephano always chooses correctly.

Stephano isn't the perfect Zerg, but it's remarkable how his wins look ripped from the pages of a Zerg textbook. His embrace of cheap massed units, simple little strategies to prevent unexpected early death, and simple genuine skill are what helped him get to where he is in his career, and led him to his brilliant IPL3 victory.

As I worked as a translator at IPL3, I was asked an interesting question.

"Could you answer honestly? How many of the IPL staff backstage were cheering for Lucky, and how many for MMA?"



In truth, I didn't know because I had been sitting around in the player lounge where there were only a handful players and maybe one or two staff members. But the implication of the question struck me hard, and it gave me pause. What happens when unknown players make runs?

At best, they have the potential to be underdog darlings or the love-to-hate villains of the tournament. Whether they bring a fairy tale "no one believed in us" spirit or blustering “haters gonna hate” attitude, they can become a rallying point for the fans as they eagerly await the outcome of each of their games.

At worst, they are league-breakers, villains in the non-narrative sense. As much as I hate to say it about Lucky, one of the most soft-spoken and astonishingly humble pro-gamers I’ve met, I imagine that no, not many of the staff from IPL were cheering for him backstage. With neither colorful personality or play style, there was little to be interested in. IPL was fortunate that the all-powerful Korea vs World story line was there to save their finals.

Of course, Lucky shouldn’t really care about any of this. He had a legitimately strong run to the finals, showing some very good, clever play that more than earned him his $12,000.

Yet, I can’t help but feel bad, because, well, Lucky probably did feel bad. My actual response to the player's question came off as an awkward dodge, and he nodded with grim understanding to an imaginary and implicit ‘Everyone wanted MMA to get to the finals.’

Korean players can be little too aware of meta-ESPORTS, much like some of the best (and worst) hardcore fans are. It’s not enough to just enjoy the games; things like stream numbers, media portrayal, and general issues of what’s ‘good’ for the industry become an abnormal obsession.

There were a few demonstrations at IPL3. Before the match Lucky’s match against MMA, I was surprised to see how casually some of the Korean players were making jokes about Lucky having to lose for the sake of the tournament's success, and that was with Lucky in the same room. While he didn’t quite go to the extreme of oGsTheStC, who straight up apologized to the audience for knocking Idra out of the tournament, Lucky seemed to be a little bit embarrassed about making it to the finals, realizing that he was tournament’s primary killjoy.

Maybe it's because they're from Korea, where e-Sports has been in a precarious position for over a decade. I was reminded of one of legendary player-turned-coach iloveoov’s infamous comments before a playoff match between star studded SK T1 (where he was the Terran coach) and plucky underdog Hwaseung Oz, where he stated that “Hwaseung winning will not help the development of e-Sports.” Though iloveoov took a significant amount of flak for his remarkably cruel comment, it felt like some of it was undeserved; most fans knew that were was at least a little bit of harsh truth to his words.

The player's question, I imagine, was asked on behalf of himself, Inori, Lucky, Violet, Artist and the other Korean unknowns at IPL who were used to living iloveoov’s world, where players have the added burden of being industry builders on top being competitors. Maybe it’s a necessary responsibility in a growing industry that’s still so fragile in many ways, but when it gets to the point where winning doesn’t mean winning anymore... Well, that really sucks. It’s already becoming a very star-centric industry, so I would hope that when a dog finally has his day, he shouldn't have to be thinking about whether or not he's biting the hand that feeds.

For all of his "Happy just to be here" attitude and humility that made him endearing, I just wish Lucky had shown us the smallest hint of “F*** ya’ll, I deserve this” in his step. People can joke about his name, but there wasn't anything lucky about his run. He showed us a lot of skill and ability, and hopefully we'll become a community that appreciates it in the future.

Since the debut of IPL, discussion has centered around the sponsorship from IGN and the huge ambitions they appeared to bring to the Western e-Sports scene. Going into IPL 3, I carried a decent amount of reservations following what seemed like a never-ending stream of hype. Ultimately, the event boiled down to one question: would IPL, an organization that had never ran a live StarCraft 2 event, succeed at its goal of immediately placing itself among established international events, and furthermore elevate the standard for a competitive gaming event?

The answer appears at first – mixed.

The live audience was a letdown. During the first two days, they gave a very bleak first impression of the event. So few people were present in the gigantic Circus Maximus theater, that using the word “crowd” truly felt like a stretch. Missing the implications of the "must be 21 years of age or older and available on a Thursday morning” requirement seemed like quite the oversight from an organization that was seeking significant live attendance. Even though the turnout improved over the weekend, there were still many available seats in theater, making the tiered seating policy largely pointless.


IPL’s idea of combining the excitement of e-Sports and the glitz of casinos may have been mistake. As poor student, being encouraged to gamble or partake in the many luxuries of Caesar’s Palace to pass the time between games was just as awkward as the “VISINE FIGHTING” shout-outs. Perhaps it was because I personally was only attending for the games, but the focus on the competition would sometimes feel diluted by the inescapable casino setting. Unlike other competitive gaming events, you were not surrounded by like minded fans wherever you went, or even just good old fashioned geeks. You were trapped in a labyrinth of slot machines and cigarette smelling carpets, and it was possible to go days without seeing daylight. Though IPL managed to get the games shown on the various TV screens throughout Caesar's Palace, it's doubtful that any of the regular casino-goers ever cared.

Another criticism about the choice of venue was the long distances between the two primary stages of the tournament. The games were actually split between two separate casinos, with a good ten minutes or more of walking distance between them. Some individuals opted to simply watch the Caesar's Palace stream from qualifier area at Bally's. Though it was a clever solution, it ultimately defeated the purpose of coming to a live event. If IPL had the same bounty of games, panels, and events in a standard convention center, everything would have felt much more organic. Whatever benefits IPL gained from the casino setting (and I am guessing some are significant, though not obvious to the ordinary fan), I feel that changing the venue to allow a wider audience to participate in the IPL experience would be worth it.

For all the qualms about the venue, the experience while actually watching the games on the main stage at Circus Maximus was stellar. IPL's booths provided some of the best player visibility of any live tournament so far, and the dual 'first-person' (they had planned these to be true first person, but were unable to implement it in time for this event) views made the games so much more enjoyable to watch. Even little details such as changing the lighting scheme during a huge engagement managed to add distinction to what could have been a very cut and dry stage performance.


And while there were annoying details about the event, there were nice little touches at the venue as well. Technical difficulties aside, there were always games to be found, and when one needed to scratch their own gaming itch, multiple demo booths from AMD, Playhem, and Samsung provided a useful distraction. Also, the complementary daily happy hours were very well received.


Another positive factor fans may have overlooked was the player experience. From a staff member's point of view, IPL may have best distinguished itself from other events with its lavish treatment of players, while still providing regular fan-player interactions. Progamers were allowed to retreat to an exclusive player lounge to practice and relax, or practice freely in the open tournament area among amateur competitors and spectators. This proved to be an elegant remedy to the problem of balancing player-fan interactions with player accommodation, as players could modify their own public availability by moving to a nearly player lounge.


The player-fan interactions were surprisingly intimate for such a high profile event. Though it was partially an unexpected benefit of the relatively low turnout, the layout of the qualifier area provided much more walking and breathing room compared to say, the Open Bracket areas of MLG. Fans were able to comfortably watch their favorite players without causing too much disturbance, and could easily strike up conversations or ask for autographs from players who had chosen to hang out in the public areas.

One event that captured this atmosphere very well. During the Saturday downtime, progamers such as Haypro, Ret, Demuslim, IdrA, and Puma passed the time by playing card games with their fans. It seemed that players were much more relaxed knowing that they could escape the crowd if they so chose to.


Also, while I wasn't as reliant on the streaming experience as those watching from home, it’s safe to say that IPL managed to deliver on the hype surrounding its streaming and production quality. Six streams delivered non-stop competitive gaming sustenance, while the presentation took a big step toward having production value that rivals the intensity of the vaunted OSL/MSL. Little details such as the audio of a player’s rapid keyboard presses added a legitimate “oh snap” factor to the show, and high quality in-booth shots of the players showed us new ways to enhance presentation.

Despite my nitpicks about the venue, I would argue that IPL3 was a success. Ultimately, tournaments are at the whim of game quality, and the games ended up being wonderful. The crowd (when they finally got there) was electrifying, and the live event-only experiences were just as good as at any other. IPL3 lived up to the hype, and proved that IPL can indeed compete with the best live events, and many could argue that it provided the best total package to date. As long as they retain their amazing staff (my hat is off to all of you) and ambitious drive going forward, we should see only improvement.