As we prepare to attend the sacred halls of Blizzcon, Alive conspires to show us how fragile our beloved icons really are.

by CosmicSpiral

There is no better compliment and greater insult than the phrase ‘Korean Terran’. By itself the term implies a level of skill that must be respected. Korean terrans are the pinnacle of mechanical skill and standard strategy; unlike zerg and protoss, they clearly outclass the rest of the world. However, not all terrans are equal in the eyes of the community. The truly great terrans marry an identifiable playstyle with a compelling storyline. MarineKing gave us an entertaining champion who was not afraid to show weakness in front of the camera. Polt is widely admired for his irresistible charisma as well as his remarkable comebacks. MMA will always be celebrated as the Emperor’s son who overthrew the reign of an unassailable king. We even celebrate the triumphs of less accomplished players like Bomber and jjakji because their stories were ones we could empathize with. ‘Korean terran’ here is the highest form of praise. These players always walk onto the stage to thundering roars. They make our hearts soar with every win and sink with every loss. They inspire and connect people by their very existence.

EG.aLive lives on the other side of the tracks. He occupies a ghetto (along with TOP, Heart, and the late Virus/Ensnare duo) where high-level terran play has little worth. Here ‘Korean Terran’ reminds us how much of a hellhole the KR region can be. In a scene where being good means you might qualify to Challenger League with some bracket luck, you need more than a few televised games for real recognition. Unlike the aforementioned champions, these mid-level players never gave us a reason to emotionally invest into their careers. They exhibit the worst traits endemic to Korean progamers: respectful modesty that immediately sours into tediousness, hoary clichés recited ad nauseam during interviews, and a peculiar aversion towards revealing weakness, quirkiness or anything that could be construed as a personality. They are further damned with statistical mediocrity. An uninteresting person can automatically become interesting if he also happens to beat the snot out of everyone else; a player like Innovation transcends his blandness by dominating so hard, his lack of personality goes full circle and becomes part of his storyline. But these poor souls are simply not good enough to make a memorable impression. How many people remember that Heart has five top eight placements in his career, or that TheStC almost won Dreamhack Valencia? Who really cares about players who are capable of winning tournaments but never actually win them?

Alive has never been able to escape the pejorative sense of the term. His slow ascent from the Code A pit to Code S was glanced over in favor of the greater accomplishments of his TSL teammates. Fruitdealer entranced us with his sorrowful decline, SangHo charmed us with his roguish confidence, Polt’s transfer made him the most accomplished player on the roster, and Puma staked his claim as the rookie with untapped potential. No one really cared about that shy, strange kid in the background with no feats to his name. Only a few hipsters recognized his GSTL success as the precursor to something bigger.

His unexpected winning streak on Fnatic almost changed everything. The freedom to choose his own practice schedule and the promise of international exposure awoke something within Alive. Maybe his Ro16 placing at IPL3 was the catalyst; maybe it was relief at escaping the stifling atmosphere of a Korean team house. All we know is that he started to play better than he had ever played before. He blazed a path through the GSL with amazing mech play and devious openings, only put out by a torrent of proxy void rays from Genius. Alive continued to impress with three excellent series against MC, MMA, and Nestea at Iron Squid. But it was his ultimate coup d’état at IPL 4 that stunned even the most imaginative fans. Reaching two consecutive semifinals in a row is a great feat but come on…this was IPL 4. This was the granddaddy of ridiculously stacked tournaments. Five GSL champions, a two-time GSL finalist, and the best foreigner were going as well as a slew of criminally underrated players like Puma, Creator, Squirtle, and Byun. So far Alive had only proved himself in matches with intense preparation. No one expected him to survive this onslaught of talent for three days. Instead, Alive pulled a Rorschach and showed that he was the most dangerous predator of the weekend. Merciless TvT, adequate TvZ, and a cool head allowed him to seize first place among that sea of killers.


By the time Alive had proven himself as a top-tier terran, it was too late to change his reputation. IPL 4 took place in April 2012 and at this point, Korean Terrans were already storming foreign lands and hogging all the loot. Before 2012 even started Mvp had three trophies to his name; MMA had won MLG Columbus, IEM Kiev, Blizzard Cup, and Iron Squid prior to IPL 4; MarineKing was the proud owner of double MLG gold. Meanwhile Polt was coming off a memorable victory at Assembly Winter, where he charmed viewers with his never say die stubbornness and willingness to speak English. If this had taken place six months earlier Alive would be remembered as a pioneer of the Korean invasion. Instead he was saddled with the burden of unconsciously justifying this win to the community at large. Who was this unknown player who overthrew all expectations? What was the significance of this victory?

With all those memorable players taking up the spotlight, there was previous little Alive could offer to distinguish himself. His stoic composure, the key quality that allowed him to recover from a near-devastating bracket reset during the finals, was ill-suited for giving interviews. Whether by choice or nature, Alive was unable to convey the overwhelming swell of emotions that usually come with such an important event. Alive had also indirectly ruined the buildup of IPL 4 by beating the players that everyone wanted to see. MarineKing entered as the favorite to win and played the best out of all competitors during the group stage; Nestea defied rumors of his recent demise by going undefeated until the semifinals. In one swift motion he knocked both of them to the losers bracket, where they would be eliminated. Furthermore, his rise was so fast and unexpected that nobody could tie it into a greater storyline. Alive wasn’t a brilliant prodigy preparing for an inevitable day of triumph. He did not hold the aspiration of an entire team on his back. He had not established himself as a top player looking to continue his domination. He was just…there, the beneficiary of good brackets and great play.

Soon Alive’s brief flash of brilliance faded without a single tear to mourn it. He settled back into mediocrity, falling out of Code S while entering a cycle of 8th-16th finishes. Spectators were quick to dismiss those magical few months as a gross aberration. It would be an entire year before Alive broke into the quarterfinals of a major tournament again.

It would be easy to dismiss Alive as a BlizzCon contender. He lacks the pedigree of Mvp and Jaedong. He is not as lovable as Bomber and MMA. sOs and HerO outshine him in terms of flair. He has no storyline as captivating as duckdeok and Naniwa. And he certainly can’t hold a candle to Polt and MC in interviews. But beware of such assumptions when it comes to the EG terran. Behind those puppy dog eyes and perpetual frown lies the equivalent of Coyote from Navajo mythology, a trickster who delights in flouting rules and expectations. Alive doesn’t specialize in winning championships or engaging audiences: he specializes in ruining dreams and pissing us off. To an ordinary person, his post-TSL career looks like a Road Runner cartoon: Wile E. Coyote always fails hilariously in the end and so do those unwise enough to treat Alive as some tomato-can opponent. By contrast SC2 lovers are not amused by his antics. He denied us the pleasure of a MC-MMA semifinal at Iron Squid. He dared to eliminate MMA from GSL Season 1 as the entire world rooted for Boxer’s prodigy. Alive single-handedly created ulcers around the world by beating almost every fan favorite during his IPL 4 run. He sent Crank packing with an easy 3-0 sweep in the WCS Season 1 Finals and ended Scarlett’s hopes in the Season 2 Finals. He’s defeated Polt more times than I care to recall. Stephano, Mvp, Maru, Grubby, Taeja, and MarineKing have all been his victims at one point or another. He’s nice guy Sniper without broodlord support.

Alive has been preparing for this weekend for an entire year. It has been a slow, pedestrian process without much fanfare. He received little praise for reaching top six in two consecutive WCS seasons and almost no attention over IEM Shanghai. He looked unimpressive at some points and plain terrible at others. Prior to WCS America Season 2, Alive admitted that he didn’t fully understand HotS; judging by his recent games, he still hasn’t got around to fixing that completely. Don’t expect such an obstacle to intimidate the 18th highest earning SC2 player of all time. Alive thrives in these types of situations. Only when all odds are against him does he show the promise that hides behind his regular play. Will Alive be the fly in the ointment one more time? Will he bow before the superior might of these assembled champions? With him you never know. Alive certainly wouldn't have it any other way.

Writers: CosmicSpiral.
Photos: GHOSTCLAW and silverfire.
Editor: Waxangel.