My Life for Ire

Snute’s career is either the set-up to a fairy tale, or the makings of something like a folk legend. Few player boast his longevity and continued relevance, even fewer can claim to have remade themselves as many times as he has. The art of reconstruction is itself a thing that demands skill; not everyone has what it takes to deconstruct and evaluate one’s strengths, shed the weaknesses and leave behind what is growing obsolete in favour of what is new and unknown, but ultimately necessary. Snute is the antithesis of a time capsule, an object that seems to move forward in time where others stand almost perpetually still. He belongs to an exclusive cadre of foreigners that have not only stood on even footing with the global elite, but on multiple occasions bested them in both sets and championships. Snute has done it not once, not twice, not by fluke nor irregularly, and in multiple iterations of Starcraft II. He has maintained a level that has never fallen below the threshold of considerable, advancing with a meticulousness and attention to detail that almost makes him more worthy of the nickname Patience than Patience himself.

Though mostly forgotten now, in the wake of who Snute has become, the easy-going Norwegian was not always as hungry for glory. Once upon a time, the part-time player who would become Norway’s Starcraft superstar was content to travel where he could and settle for what placings seemed realistic. Albeit a mindset he would quickly grow out of, Snute’s early successes came in spite of what most elite competitors would consider an inferior mindset. Once he chose to devote his life to the cause, Snute – as in any flick where the hero inevitably rises to the challenge – grew out of the shoes he shared with Norwegian rivals. Kare is a speck of dust where Snute is a nimbus cloud, despite their tight clashes in the stages of Snute’s career that preceded his switch to full-time, and the only marks he made in their national scene were second places behind Snute in a world that seems to only accept the best. So Snute outgrew Norway, seemingly in the very second he decided that Starcraft needed his complete attention, and would make reality of his promises the very same year. He was quick to adopt the Korean-style training regimen, valuing quantity as a quality unto itself because he recognized the necessity for routines and mechanics. At some points, he allegedly practiced upwards of 60 games a day, a number not even the most inveterate Proleague players could claim to easily match. In conjunction with his practice partners from CJ Entus, he built on the base that all players strive for, but far from everyone manages to achieve. For a time, he was such a mainstay in the international circuit that his name came to always be connected with at least the possibility of a tournament-winning streak. Unlike most of his peers, Snute has rarely been spoken of as a "foreigner" in derisive terms. Like Naniwa and HuK, undeniable results have elevated him to some honorary status that does not care for nationality, only dedication and prowess

In another time and place, Snute is CJ’herO’s nightmare. herO faces the Norwegian twice during the course of IEM Toronto, one of the best players in the world taking on a player he should by all means at least by equipped to beat, and falls short both times. He comes no closer the second time than he did the first, finding no answer to Snute’s Swarm Hosts, marching to his own death in much the same way lesser Protoss players have done against lesser opponents. But herO is no slouch, perhaps one of those few good enough to normally deal with this current Zerg scourge. But he cannot deal with Snute. There is a precision to Snute’s Swarm Host play that no other player really possesses, a complete mastery of the style that can only be attributed to long practice hours and a keen understanding of what makes his race—and more precisely the style of play—tick. The Protoss player falls, ultimately, dropping from the tournament. It is an expected result, somehow, because everyone knows Snute’s predisposition towards Swarm Hosts. Not only because it is well-rehearsed, but because it seems so effortless, so indomitable. Many Zerg players have, in some cases rightly so, been dismissed at their heights. Brood Lords this, Swarm Hosts that. When a unit or a style becomes so prominent that its very existence drastically alters the way players approach a match-up, it is difficult to properly measure what is skill, and what is unjust benefit. Many players were dismissed as opportunists exploiting the might of the Swarm Host, but this view never took hold of Snute. He had embraced it long before, and made it clear that he could go above and beyond -- to where it was so clear that what he did was calculation rather than some developer's providence.

We endeavor to pin every player down to their fundamentals. INnoVation is robotic, Marineking is nervous. But what kind of player is Snute? Anecdotes and histories cannot do justice to a player as mercurial as he, but they highlight a crucial fundament of Snute’s career. At no point (well, after the aforementioned awakening of his competitive Starcraft spirit) has he been content to be good, or content to remain where he is. The once-upon-a-time king of Swarm Hosts marches ever forward, either to new heights, or to the workshops where his ladders are built. When he won the WCS Copa International against ShoWTimE, the moderate surprise that met his renewed success was counterbalanced by a widespread notion that this was something to be expected. Not because of racial advantages or balance concerns – any Starcraft fan will know that unexpected results tend to be met with these suspicions foremost – but because Snute cannot be counted out, because he has never provided us with a compelling reason to believe he is completely down for the count. We often tend to stare at trophies until we go half-blind for their gleam, but the six top 4 placements he had procured in the span between December of 2015 and July of 2016 should have been more than enough to indicate that whatever the bracket and wherever the setting, work ethic and perseverance remain the smallest of Snute’s problems.

It, unfortunately, does not honor Snute as much as it does Elazer or Neeb to have made it to Blizzcon now. As part of the group of players that toed the line between qualification and heartbreaking almosts in the past, it seems almost insulting that this would be Snute’s opportunity. He both is and has been good enough on many occasions to compete for his place among the star-studded BlizzCon attendees. Now that glory must be shared, and perhaps it isn’t the glorious ascent that Snute had hoped for. The Global Finals is, despite Starleagues and WCS championships, the grandest and most coveted stage of the year, burning memories into the collective consciousness solely on their significance. Snute will be part of it, not as the lone arbiter of a secluded and underrepresented scene, but as the lead example of what that scene has produced in spite of its difficulties, despite fighting an uphill battle.

The fury with which Snute has carved a path through the Starcraft scene is easily glanced over, hidden by pretty blond locks and a relaxed, joking demeanor. The same Norwegian kid that would chat across the Swedish-Norwegian language barrier with a taxi driver who accidentally drove him to the wrong hotel can dedicate 15 hours to single-minded practice, and devote years to a fine-line career that harshly punishes those that fall to the wayside. It takes takes both glacial patience and nerves of steel to do what Snute has done: remain relevant and move ever forward, often without the very support structure that has defined and steadied his toughest rivals, in a scene that preys upon those that simply remain. Almost as if out of spite, he has struggled endlessly to prove that no advantage needs to be insurmountable. As if offended by the notion that there are players whose heights he cannot reach, Snute has done precisely everything in his power to change that view. And if there is a trophy in the world that could cement his objection to this presupposition, it is the one he will now fight to hoist. It's not just a tournament. It is the final piece of a proof that he has spent years constructing.