StarCraft: Never Saying Goodbye

When I was in high school my mom was diagnosed with cancer. My family and I had always been night owls, but the uncertainty and worry that came with her illness led to even more sleepless nights. I spent countless hours on Skype with friends, seeking solace by playing StarCraft until the sun came up. This lifestyle led to many bleary-eyed days and my performance in school suffered.

Still, I loved StarCraft II and I had no intention of abandoning that passion. I know the game could be a force of good in my life. And, so, I began to organize my schedule around it. As those of you who live on the Eastern Coast of America know, our time zone is not the friendliest for catching Korean broadcasts. The games started as early as 4:00 A.M. in New York City depending on the time of year—a big ask for someone who had to be at school only a few hours later.

But, I wanted to watch and so each weekday I got up at 4:00, showered, cooked breakfast, made coffee, and sat down just in time to watch whatever was on—be it GSL, GSTL, SSL, OSL or my favorite of them all, Proleague. I did my homework between games before catching the latter portions of the day’s games on the way to school. I remember times when I would crank up the volume on my phone as high as it would go, just to make sure my friends could keep up with Korean StarCraft as well. When I got home I made sure to watch the Day[9] Daily before readying myself for another morning of StarCraft.

The Jin Air Greenwings Proleague team celebrating a win

I had started to get my sleep schedule under control, but my Mother’s cancer treatment, which often left her in pain or, at least uncomfortable, had transformed her from your run of the mill night owl, to barely sleeping at all. More often than not, she was awake when I sat down to watch early morning StarCraft. As time went on, we began to watch together. And, soon enough she was right there with me cheering for my favorite players and cursing those who beat them.

My Mom had been a diehard Yankees fan since childhood and was a competitive person in general. She often regaled me with tales of her youth, where she would monopolize the Pac-Man machine for hours with only a few quarters, taking out kids her age and even adults alike. She taught herself how to speed run games like Super Mario World and Legend of Zelda on NES when the concept of speedrunning didn’t even exist.

A game screen I saw many a time when hanging out with my mom

She was the one who had inspired my love of games and I think it brought her some amount of pride and contentment during a very difficult time to see just how much StarCraft meant to me. My dad called it a waste of time when I decided to go to Red Bull Battlegrounds at the Hammerstein Ballroom in 2013, but my mom made sure she caught me before I dashed out the door—handing me some extra cash to make sure I’d have a great time while I was in Manhattan.

The years that followed were a turbulent time for our favorite video game. Big name tournament organizers like MLG and IPL went by the wayside. Day[9] transitioned to other games and within a few years Proleague and SSL departed as well. It was a perfect time for long-time naysayers to claim that StarCraft II was dead, dying and even stillborn before launch. We were only a few years removed from a StarCraft calendar that featured SSL, Code S and Proleague— a time when Korean StarCraft was played as many as five times a week and Global Events littered the Calendar, but now people had a new reason to claim the scene was in an irrevocable tailspin. These types of comments rankled me to my core. StarCraft had proven to be a calming influence amid the tempest that was my life and there were just as many signs that the game wasn’t going anywhere.

The influx of new casters during the early years of Legacy of the Void revived online events and weekly cups—which regularly featured the same players my Mother and I had watched during our impromptu early morning watch parties. Their passion, along with the efforts of content creators across a variety of mediums, went a long way towards ensuring that the community maintained its love for the game—even as the number of events began to dwindle.

Just this year, we watched as the community sprung into action to revive Code S. Korea and StarCraft II’s longest running competition was in its death throes, with the majority of matches slated to be played online. But, after the outpouring of support from the community, Season 1’s prizepool saw a major increase—prompting Afreeca to announce that Season 2 would be held entirely offline. The fact that a company of Afreeca’s size reversed course is not something to be taken lightly. They had stood by StarCraft as Blizzard stopped contributing to the prize pool and players retired en masse. I wouldn’t be shocked if more than a few of the higher ups saw this year as a farewell tour for the game that had changed so many of our lives. And, I think it’s safe to say they never expected the windfall of support they received across the first half of 2023.

Serral is a walking, talking demonstration of one’s love for StarCraft prevailing over popular opinion. When Serral graduated from high school and committed to StarCraft II full time, Blizzard was still contributing a lot of money to the game, but the warning signs were clearly there. Serral surely could have pivoted to a larger esport when he was young and probably would have been similarly successful but, just as StarCraft II helped strengthen the connection between my Mother and I, StarCraft II was an essential part of the Sotala family.

While Serral may be the most accomplished player to commit himself fully to StarCraft II in the post Proleague era, he is not alone. Reynor is another notable example, but there are plenty others who picked up StarCraft II when it was “past its prime”—players like MaxPax, Mixu and Skillious are regulars in online cups, all of whom knew StarCraft II was on the downswing when they decided to dedicate themselves to the game, but continued on undeterred.

The Finnish Phenom looking like the legend he is

Skillous’ path was a particularly challenging one. After putting up solid results in a variety of online cups in the late 2010’s. Skillous’ lifestyle was irreparably altered by the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Forced to relocate to The Netherlands, SKillous was signed by Team Liquid—a choice which enabled him to continue plying his trade in online cups and even the World Team League under Liquid’s banner. His story is but the latest in a long line of inspiring and compelling tales that make StarCraft what it is.

13 years after the release of StarCraft II, the community remains blessed when it comes to content creators. Day[9] and Husky set the standard in Wings of Liberty, but as they moved on they were replaced by PiG, Harstem, uThermal, BeoMulf and more—with each of them bringing their unique brand of entertainment to the community at large. While nobody could ever replace Day[9] and the role he played in many of us falling in love with StarCraft II, I have to admit Lowko is giving him a run for his money.

A wild Sean appeared

Lowko does his best to remain humble, insisting that his popularity derives from his persistence rather than being innately entertaining. But, I’d argue it was his passion and dedication to StarCraft II that brought him success. With more than 500,000 Subscribers and 300,000,000 views on his YouTube channel, Lowko’s ability to galvanize a fan base is even more impressive than what Day[9] achieved—especially when you take into account that there were far more eyes on StarCraft II when Day[9] was producing his infamous Day[9] dailies.

As someone who had latched onto StarCraft II during its nascent days, I always assumed that the majority of the fanbase had similar origins. But after attending DreamHack Atlanta 2022, IEM Katowice 2022, and HomeStory Cup XXIII I realized just how varied the StarCraft community is. I was shocked to meet people who didn’t know who MC was or had never heard of Jaedong. At the time, I found it jarring, but as I look back I see it as a reason for hope. There are plenty of newer fans out there who picked up the game only a few years or months ago. They might not look at the matchups between Mvp and NesTea with the same fondness I do, but ask them about Serral or Maru and their faces light up the very same way mine does when I think of the legendary final between jjakji and Leenock.

A look at the huge crowd at DH ATL 2022, many faces both old and new

My Mom isn’t with me anymore, but StarCraft certainly is. In fact, I’m more invested than ever. My decision to start making StarCraft content was not made out of avarice or greed, but rather the desire to share the joy StarCraft brought my Mother and I to a wider audience.

The reception has been far more than I ever could have hoped for. Thanks to the support of thousands of StarCraft II fans I’ve been able to speak to some incredible people and help share their stories about why StarCraft II means so much to them. I’ve only been at this for 7 months, but the support has continued to pour in. It’s my hope that I’ll be able to continue producing content for as long as StarCraft is around. And, given everything the game has survived, that might be for quite awhile.

And, as I think about StarCraft II and its past, future and present, I can’t help being optimistic. There are so many incredible content creators, wildly talented players and a hardcore audience that can’t seem to kick the game even when they’re complaining about balance. The prizes and player pools have downsized, but the matches are as good as ever. The sponsors might eventually depart and the tournaments might lose some of their prestige but, like the fighting game scene before it, StarCraft II has the type of grassroots support that will keep it going long after Blizzard, ESL and other similarly large outfits step away. I have to admit there was a period in there, where life was full of despair and I thought StarCraft II might just be on its way out. But, years later, you’d never be able to convince me that the game was ever dead.

Because the truth is, you feel the love wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if you’re watching from home or if you’re part of a roaring crowd. It doesn’t matter if you’re listening to the casters or catching a private word with them about what this game means. It doesn’t matter if you post on the LiveReport Thread or frequent the StarCraft subreddit. Everywhere you go, the enthusiasm and passion is the same. As we celebrate StarCraft II’s 13th year as an esport, it’s heartwarming to think that despite Brood Lord/Infestor, the matchfixing scandal, the dissolution of Proleague and everything else that was supposed to put my favorite game to rest once and for all, the game endured.

I miss watching StarCraft with my Mom, just as I miss the carefree days of my youth when I could play and watch the game from sunset to sunrise. But, there’s a difference between missing something we cherish because it is gone and missing that very same thing because it has changed. StarCraft II has certainly changed over the years, but there’s one thing that never has. It’s the people, the players, the fans and the content creators that make StarCraft II what it is. It’s about me and you and all the others who wake up at ungodly hours to see their favorite players do battle. Yes, there are things I miss and things that I wish could come back, but as I reflect on everything this game has taught me and everything I’ve seen since I’ve started creating content, I’d be lying to you if I didn’t think the future is bright.

Written by: Ahmad "StarcraftHistorian" Ali
Edited by: Mizenhauer

Check out my full catalog of work at: https://starcrafthistorian.com/

StarCraft: Never Saying Goodbye

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