Dazed and Confused

When the universe sucker punches you, there are a few options to consider. Screaming is highly recommended as long as no one else's eardrums are at risk. Breaking things is also up there, as long as glass isn't involved. Staring at walls in dead-eyed silence may be your cup of tea if you enjoy soul-crushing depression. Crying is also a suitable substitute. Then there are the more philosophical strategies: attributing blame to higher deities if you're feeling particularly Greek about it (didn't you know, tragedy without an audience is positively crass), treating it as a lesson to relearn the virtues of humility and patience, viewing it as an opportunity to become a stronger, better individual. If all else fails, meditate on the cold, cruel reality of the universe until the poison seeps into your soul and transforms you into a gremlin with pitch-black eyes who only revels in the misfortune and suffering of other sentient beings, like the main antagonist from Hellraiser except you restrain your fashion sense for Friday nights at the local underground fetish club and typing posts about Sniper's malevolence with feverish reverence...

Excuse me. Stuchiu's biography can wait.

Whatever coping mechanisms Stats has on hand, it will be a struggle to keep himself mentally composed for BlizzCon. Most players would be nervous simply from reflecting on the situation. BlizzCon is usually the highlight of a career and the way to immortalize your name for posterity. Participation alone guarantees you a payout equivalent to winning a Dreamhack or ESL event; a couple of lucky matchups can make you rich (by progamer standards). Alongside that opportunity comes fear. Playing on the biggest stage means you can disappoint your teammates, be exposed as a fraud, get embarrassed in front of your colleagues and friends. Even the most experienced veterans never quite shake off the immense pressure that comes with the chance at glory. They merely find the best ways to live with it.

Meanwhile Stats has to deal with the complete dissolution of his world. As he prepares for the Global Playoffs, the former KT Rolster captain is no doubt aware he is a leaf blowing aimlessly in the wind. Civility demands we refer to him as a free agent, but the euphemism is a tad insulting. That would imply that after Proleague went kaput and the vast majority of Korean teams disbanded, there are organizations ready to absorb all the newly released talent. Let us call a spade a spade. Stats is teamless, along with a whole glut of progamers ranging from greenhorns to GSL winners, and finds themselves floating in the aether with few options to fall back on.

It would be naive to assume this came as a complete surprise: the decline of the scene was widespread knowledge and the rosters were probably informed well ahead of time. Nevertheless, prospects look bleak. Jin Air and Afreeca Freecs are probably not looking to expand their large rosters. Foreign teams have little interest investing in high-skill players with poor English and low appeal. The WCS region lock presents its own challenges unless they are willing to relocate. At home, the tournament structure is in shambles. A new season of GSL was announced but nothing indicating future installments down the line; the potential of team leagues is a mystery. Retirement looms in the background as a pragmatic decision. More popular games beckon as avenues for their passion.

When you have no support system, no way to play in any other region, and little information to create a feasible plan, it's hard to consider yourself a working professional. Stats is good enough to earn a living at StarCraft...in a vacuum. All he has to do is he pretend there is a team house to return to, teammates to collaborate with, and a reliable source of income during the months in-between matches. In the new world there Is no certainty left for those without the requisite winnings or prestige. Does Stats know which side of the line he is on? Is he certain he has a career after BlizzCon?

Could fate have chosen a worse time to throw a wrench in the gears?

Six months ago, the future seemed boundless. Stats was coming off the best stretch of his career, securing second place in SSL through a tough double elimination bracket. A month and a half later, he would get revenge against the champion Dark in the Cross Finals; the following day, he won Kung Fu Cup Season 1 in a 4-3 nail-biter over TY. Five days before his SSL run petered out, he pulled off his second career all-kill against SK Telecom T1 to push KT Rolster into the Proleague Round 2 finals. Losing to sOs in the opening match of that barely dented his momentum. He reeled off six straight wins in Round 3, including a rematch against sOs, before Cure took him out in the Round 3 finals. Stats ended 2016 Proleague with a 27-9 record—with 80%+ winrates against zerg and protoss—and the second-highest winrate among all participants.

The fact that Stats was good was not surprising. KT fans knew he was a stalwart, valued member of the team. Ever since his debut against TT in 2009, Stats had always proven reliable in team leagues. But any spark of greatness was undetectable, at least to untrained eyes. He didn't reinvent strategy like Flash. He didn't dazzle us with technical prowess like Zest. He lacked the goofy unpredictability of Action or the rage-inducing successes of MyuNgSiK. Stats didn't have a particularly unique playstyle, nor was he greatly entertaining. He was spotty at times, dreadful at others, mostly solid and would probably never be a high roller at the table. Nevertheless you couldn't help but appreciate him: something about his milquetoast ways made Chintoss endearing. Stats was just a boy who found his niche on a stable team. Such players were as necessary for the scene's health as the champions, the antiheroes, and the clowns.

Sometime at the end of 2014, that spark began to flare up. The first sign was a small triumph in October. Stats won the South Korean qualifier for the World e-Sports Championship Games (the proclaimed successor to the World Cyber Games) in a close victory over herO. Considering it was during one of the latter's upswings—herO had finished runner-up at KeSPA Cup and would win IEM San Jose in December—it was considered a mild upset. It ended up a blip in the collective consciousness: WECG was indefinitely postponed and subsequently exposed as another pipe dream. But Stats continued to establish himself more as a serious threat in individual tournaments. He followed up that meaningless showing with two semifinals appearance in SSL, establishing his credentials as the strongest of gatekeepers. Both times he finished first place in his group, then lost to the eventual champion. Sadly, outside circumstances stopped him from replicating such feats in GSL. At some point in December, YongHwa sneezed in his soup and passed on the dreaded disease known as Performing Below Expectations; as a consequence Stats never qualified for Code A in 2015. If progress continued in this fashion, 2016 would be his breakout year.

Which it was...in a sense. Legacy of the Void shook up the scene in a major way, throwing the Protoss hierarchy into confusion. All the old names remained good players but no one was capable of seizing the crown for any appreciable length of time. Zest started off white-hot but inexplicably lost his mojo (please check the back of your milk carton for the description). Classic and herO settled into perpetual quarter-finalist mode. Patience went from aLive status to legitimate threat. MyuNgSiK did things that left scientists baffled to the day. Stats refined his gameplay to the point where he tackled individual and team leagues with ease. Despite losing to Dark in the finals of SSL, he succeeded at changing public perception. Before, you needed to beat him in order to reach the top—now he was a threat to win it all. He changed from a reliable Proleague player to a dominant one. Casters praised him with accolades reserved for Rain and Zest: fully rounded gameplay, a great understanding of strategy, immaculate decision-making. Hell, he arguably replaced Zest as the lynchpin of the roster.

Perhaps Stats will see BlizzCon as his swan song. For seven years he has been the dutiful teammate, quietly working for the betterment of KT Rolster. He never showed jealously or resentment over living in Flash's shadow. It didn't make sense to covet skill or fame when he wasn't cut out for either; for the vast majority of his career he was part of the supporting cast. What he's accomplished in 2016 is better than 99% of players dream of. Perhaps he'll be extremely grateful and wave goodbye in tears after getting eliminated in the Round of 8.

I hope not. I pray recent events make him angry and focused. I hope he summons his inner Michael Jordan and realizes this is his moment. He should consider his loss to Neeb in the KeSPA Cup semifinals as a complete and utter fluke. He should look at the competition and think “I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with ME.” He should believe that after seven years of slow and imperceptible growth, he is entitled to stand among the best. He should know that he is this close to being the best. I hope he holds that fear to his chest and rides the exhilaration to ultimate victory. Because that's the attitude of a champion and Stats has spent his entire career waiting on the bench for this moment.

Put aside the Chintoss. Become who you were born to be.