by mizenhauer
- Mizenhauer


The past is a tricky and infuriating thing. It has, by definition already happened, and thereby should be incapable of directly affecting the present. Free to make our own decisions, we can shape our ideal future. And yet, it so rarely works out that way, both in life and in professional StarCraft II. For every person like TY, who won a pair of championships despite a career of failure, or adventurer who braves the stormy sea to alight upon an undiscovered land, there are those whose dreams were barricaded off by mistakes, natural inadequacies and plum bad luck.

What would someone like Rogue, who reached a threshold but seemed unable to go any further, give? His is a long career in which he has seen the dreams of his peers frequently run aground. soO is still haunted by the Kong curse, just as Dear and Solar were never able to escape their inconsistencies. Zest is laden with the weight of impossible expectations while players like MyuNgSiK, Super and PenguiN were long since deemed not good enough. They were confined, forever doomed to repeat the same story ad nauseum. What they would give to be able to rise above, to recapture or even just once touch glory.

Those who watch our intrepid heroes struggle may feel kinship. Even if one's aspirations are modest by comparison, failure and struggle stubbornly accompany us throughout our lives. Setbacks prove crippling while disappointment is nothing if not crushing. Accomplishments often feel insignificant and are easily forgotten. We make progress only to inevitably stumble all over again. Most of us never get our fairy tale ending - our moment where we lift the trophy with a fervent crowd chanting our name. Many don’t even get to settle for minor victories. There are those who simply scrape by however they can, fighting a losing battle, what would they give to chase their dreams as Rogue has, even if his aspirations seemed doomed from the start.

Basking in the glow of Rogue's triumph, it's difficult to remember his humble beginnings. Rogue was not one of the KeSPA prodigies who shot out of the gate when Team 8 transitioned to StarCraft II. When he did make strides, his attempts to improve resembled a sputtering, oil-starved Hudson Super Six phaeton more than the streamlined fighter jet embodied by INnoVation or Rain. But as HotS evolved Rogue asserted himself, rising from relative anonymity to being acknowledged as a player everyone knew and even looked forward to watching.

May 9, 2014: It’s Rogue’s first Code S, but he only lasts two matches. Hydra’s zerglings stream into his base and his journey down the royal road is over before it could even begin.

March 6, 2015: Rogue has made the Round of 8 in GSL for the first time. Up 1-0, playing against herO, his box art army consists of two queens, seven vipers, eleven swarm hosts, two ultralisks, twenty one corruptors, three mutalisks and eight zerglings. He goes on to lose the game and ultimately the series 3-2.

June 2, 2015: No one ever thought the redesigned swarm host would be used to snipe nexuses, but herO is learning first hand how lethal the unprecedented strategy can be as Rogue forces an ace match.

September 18, 2015: Rogue is facing off against Maru in his fifth Starleague quarterfinal of the year. Universally expected to lose, he goes down without much of a fight, the most damning loss taking place on Terraform against mech, a composition Rogue was incredibly strong against.

September 19, 2015: Banelings rain down on herO’s army, crushing CJ Entus’ dreams while bringing Jin Air one step closer to their first Proleague finals.

November 7, 2015: Rogue plays teammate sOs in the semifinals at BlizzCon. He hardly looks like he belongs, though, and is promptly ejected from the event by a 3-0 score.

We thought we had Rogue all figured out heading into Legacy of the Void. He had risen from KeSPA anonymity with a new name and a new lease on life, becoming a dreaded Proleague presence, while securing himself a position among the second tiers of professionals. Making the quarterfinals of so many Starleagues is impressive, but it was hard to compare such a minor achievement to ByuL’s three second places, let alone those who won the events. Rogue may have had his best year ever, but he was more of an afterthought than anything else and certainly not a title contender. When he finally broke through and reached the semifinals at BlizzCon, his run was marked with an asterisk. His 3-0 sweep of Maru in the Round of 16 was more the Terran's fault than anything else and his victory over Hydra in his strongest matchup was a foregone conclusion.

Flashes of brilliance and equally glaring exhibitions of nerves and shakiness. Rogue just didn’t have what it took to make a real impact in StarCraft II, especially on a team where Maru and sOs cast such a looming shadow. He would have to resign himself to being a bit player. If that wasn’t enough for him, he should just retire because his past was clear as day and the future promised more of the same.

If Rogue was Mr. Consistency in 2015, albeit the most underwhelming version, he was far from that in 2016. He was his accustomed imperious self in Proleague, but he failed to reach the Round of 8 even once over the course of four Starleagues, not even qualifying for the first SSL. A semifinals exit at HomeStory Cup to end the year offered pale consolation, while the disbandment of Proleague snatched away Rogue’s last bastion of excellence. A Round of 32 exit in the first GSL of 2017 further confirmed our suspicions that Rogue should get used to a life of qualifiers and early exits rather than daydreaming of kissing a trophy as pulchritudinous as Tzuyu.

Somewhere along the way, something changed. This isn’t a story of his close call to soO in the Round of 8 in Season 2 or the fact that he managed to make it back to that stage the following season. This is about how Rogue completely reinvented himself. To bring other factors into focus would distract from his achievements and the grand effort behind them. This is about one man who put his nose to the grindstone, wrestled his past into submission and did what we all we wish we could do, banish our demons and emerge from the struggle as something more than anyone, including ourselves, expected we could be.

Rogue qualified for IEM Shanghai and took the event by storm, only dropping four games on his way to the title. The Super Tournament was a sterner test, but Rogue beat three straight GSL champions before taking out rival turned whipping boy, herO in a second consecutive finals. Doing so bought him a berth at BlizzCon, the sort of last gasp heroics that had the ROOT Protoss painted as the villain trying to deny fate.

But he didn’t do all that by playing like his 2015 self. That Rogue was a trickster whose knowledge of the game was as vast as anyone’s, but his mechanics and ability to execute strategies was lacking. He wasn’t even a charlatan. To be dubbed that requires significant success and standing. He was more the court jester, wowing us from time to time while always limping off the stage to laughter instead of cheers. He was defined by shaky moments and his penchant for crumbling at the final hurdle. His macro failed him, his series planning evaporated and decision making went haywire. He relied on getting early leads through gimmicks and when he didn’t, the results were predictable. He could topple the most able mech player in Proleague, but it wasn’t doing him any good when personal glory was on the line. GomTV may have labeled sOs “the originator of mind games and strategic preparation”, but this was a diadem far more fitting for Rogue. He always had a plan and very well may have been the smartest person in the room, but, more often than not, it didn’t come together. His ingenuity was all he had to rely on and, when it proved insufficient, he crumbled.

The modern Rogue was born of resiliency and tenacity. These traits honed him into a peerless weapon that made the most difficult obstacle trivial. His play was as complete as any to have played the game. He could win with early aggression, technical timings, overpowering macro in the mid-game or with a methodical late game that made Dark’s look like an outdated model. His veins pumped ice water and his mentality never cracked. He was the hottest player in the world heading into BlizzCon because he was as close to immaculate as a person can get. He had surpassed his rivals, outdone his teammates and become the player we never knew he was meant to be. He was the central figure in a tale of perseverance, self improvement and triumph. Everyone should have realized what was coming next.

With soO slipping into the shadows, Rogue stood center stage, the WCS trophy in his grip. People clamored to get closer as shouts and music filled the air. Confetti streamed down, flickering in aquamarine light and the sapphire and ruby glow of the stage. It was the perfect scene for the man who had become flawless. Undeterred by years of failure, he had made his dreams a reality, something we all strive to do. He stumbled against Neeb, but refused to fall. He gathered himself for a final charge and made sure none could stand in his way.

Rogue is Jin Air’s newest world champion. He is worthy of this distinction in every sense of the word. He is Stats’ consistency, soO’s determination and INnoVation’s dominance combined to form the ultimate StarCraft II player. We have no way of knowing whether or not his victories will continue to pile up. It’s yet to be seen if he is one day considered the GOAT or if this was a flash in the pan and he slips back into the rank and file. Rogue escaped his past and formed a present all his own. What comes next isn’t important. What’s now is perfect.

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