Slouching Towards Anaheim
Watching a player transform from auspicious neophyte to perennial all-star is one of the most fulfilling aspects of being a sports fan. It combines the desire to live vicariously through our favorite athletes with the altruistic underpinnings of supporting the underdog. Who among us hasn’t fantasized about rising up from the dregs to touching the stars through hard work and perseverance? Most of us lack the prerequisite characteristics to pull it off, yet we can admire the select few who flourish under such pressure (to the applause of a roaring crowd). This is especially pertinent in StarCraft where the majority of up-and-comers start off as teenagers. Not only does the audience experience the tension and drama of a traditional sport, they also witness these games double as maturation rituals of adulthood. Failures stagnate in their growth, lose composure during key moments and allow fear to hinder progress. Successes comprehend the monumental effort demanded to maintain a spot among the elite performers, maintain proper dedication and conscientiousness during lonely practice hours, and demonstrate gratefulness for their fortunate lot in life.
Debuting in GSL Open Season 1 at the tender age of 13, Maru was one of the early aspirants tagged for future greatness. Throughout 2011 the Prime Terran was sorted along with Life,
Creator, TaeJa, PartinG, and a few select others as a group of emerging superstars. These players tore through the loose network of online leagues that functioned as playground and impromptu practice sessions, introducing innovative new builds and highly stylized approaches to the game. They couldn’t quite hack in Code S due to lacking the experience and composure of the Brood War transplants. But these prodigies had time to grow and flourish, or so their more ardent fans believed. In time they would succeed the old guard, NesTea, Mvp, MC, as the faces of StarCraft II.
For a long time Maru teetered on the brink between yesterday’s news and eventual champion. Several compatriots in the club either enjoyed short zeniths in their career or rescinded their promise to end up as mediocre side characters—Yonghwa, Creator and Squirtle in particular either hit insurmountable obstacles or fizzled out at the height of their power. Others ascended to become household names. Maru found himself caught in-between widespread recognition and abject failure. Prior to the end of summer 2013, Maru accomplished almost nothing of note. It took him 9 seasons since his debut to reach Code S; subsequently, he never reached the GSL Round of 16 until 2014. In the era of Koreans infiltrating foreign tournaments and departing with all the swag, he was nonexistent. Besides winning Asia StarCraft League over BBoongBboong you’d be mistaken in thinking he never participated at all.
Maru’s misfortune ended in spectacular fashion when he won the 2013 WCS Season 2 OSL. As the last entry in the storied tournament’s history, it was caustic irony that the final champion bulldozed two of the most iconic Brood War expats in the process. INnoVation, praised as the best Terran who transferred from the old game, never got a leg up during his 0-4 beatdown rife with cheese and a one-sided macro pummeling. Rain suffered similar distraught after he started out with a well-earned 2-0 lead; reminiscent of his semi-final match, Maru piled on aggression with landslide win after landslide win. It was surreal to see his diminutive frame on-stage as he held the glistening trophy. Despite being 16 years old, Maru was already a veteran of the scene. It felt less like his triumphant fulfillment than an old-timer finally getting their due.
His career prospects from that point became spotty. It would be a bleak overgeneralization to suggest his time over these 3 years was one of endless disappointment: Jin Air became one of the most prominent Proleague teams largely thanks to Maru’s excellent record from 2014 to 2016. Maru himself never reverted to the forgotten youngster of yore, but the chiaroscuro painted by his results suggested he was still deficient in some aspects. After his breakout performance in OSL Maru landed four straight semifinal showings only to lose every single opportunity. Dear denied him twice while exhibiting some of the best Protoss gameplay ever seen up to that point; Soulkey and Jaedong took him down at Hot6ix Cup and WCS Finals respectively. This kickstarted a dry spell that lasted through 2014 until the beginning of 2015. His victory in 2015 SSL Season 1 was another watershed moment that should’ve signaled an unmistakable return to form. Yet besides second place at IEM Taipei he didn’t land another final until WESG 2016. Outside of perpetual quarterfinal finishes, Maru only reached the semis of GSL Season 2 before losing to eventual champion GuMiho.
Rank
#1
Korean Standings
WCS Points
14250
2018 Season Stats*
41–14 (74.55%) vs. Terran
77–49 (61.11%) vs. Protoss
75–30 (71.43%) vs. Zerg
*Via Aligulac.com. Matches between 2017-11-15 and 2018-10-16.
With such spotty individual results across 3 years, it was a shock to witness Maru convert 2018 into a self-gratifying monument dedicated to his greatness. Such dominance wasn’t unheard of. Flash singlehandedly terrorized Korea within the 2008-2010 stretch despite the best efforts of Jaedong and company. iloveoov had a similar aura of invincibility during his heyday. Mvp looked all but untouchable when he first crossed over into SC2. Such examples seem ostensibly related...except these illustrations came with the caveat of timing. The aforementioned players reigned supreme from the beginning or soon after their introductions. When Maru captured GSL Season 1 and Season 2, he was doing so 7 years after his introduction. His successes were hardly outliers either. Stats floundered helplessly without mustering a real fight against Maru’s proxy tactics. Meanwhile nothing could be said about Zest’s gameplay that hasn’t already been said about Afghanistan. With the exception of long series versus high-level Zergs—a prospective Kryptonite that turned out fatal at IEM Katowice and almost cost him the WESG final—and a few group stages losses against Protoss in Season 3, Maru has looked every inch the unstoppable titan the faithful anticipated.
His road to completing the hat trick was mostly effortless. After breezing through both group stages, Maru slapped aside GuMiho to set up a rematch against Season 1 finalist Zest. Their series garnered much-deserved ragging for how short and ugly it turned out, which sparked some hope Zest would summon more resistance during their second tryst. Such hope was in vain. A 4-1 score is closer on paper, but truthfully Maru imposed his will with equal brutality.
Maru’s bout with TY in the finals proved a nervewracking affair. Just like in their tussle in the finals of WESG last year, both players leveraged the frantic tempo of their standard gameplay. The effectiveness of such attitudes ranged from counterproductive to game-winning. At first Maru’s gambles on proxy play failed: TY jumped out to a 2-0 lead after deflecting his opponent’s early-game rushes. He found greater success with curbing his aggression to aim for macro games. In particular, Game 4 on Lost and Found saw Maru patiently transition into sky Terran to take a split-map scenario. Sensing Maru’s plan to exploit his mid and lategame prowess, TY took a page from Maru’s book on Blue Shift with a 2 base tank push. It failed to deliver the killing blow but the economic damage, along with 2 vikings executing a runby later on, granted TY enough wiggle room to snuff out Maru’s counterattack. Acid Plant started out well for the insurgent, who continued to adroitly parry proxy barracks shenanigans. TY’s admirable defense only applied to the first 3 minutes though. Once Maru regained his bearings, TY’s initial defense couldn’t compensate for his inability to check Maru’s map movements or prevent his fourth base from mining unperturbed. Eventually Maru out-muscled him with sheer numbers.
Game 7 on Atlas was a short, tense affair. For a brief stretch of time TY could taste the upset. He had shut down Maru’s choice of cloaked banshees, leaving the Jin Air Terran in a precarious spot. Down 10 workers and a third CC, Maru gambled the series on the most decisive and desperate of moves. He gathered his remaining marine/tank/banshee force and hurled it at TY’s natural in a last ditch all-in. TY almost rebuffed with a SCV pull but in the end, the tanks and banshees output too much damage to absorb. Maru survived with 1 cyclone, 1 banshee, and a repairing SCV. His paltry army was strong enough to wipe out the stragglers helplessly spawning from TY’s production.
The coup de grace signaled an end of uncertainty, the closing chapter to his saga of deferred potential. Ever since the dawn of sports audiences have bemoaned lost futures that only exist in the imagination. It is a routine pastime in SC2, where a player’s promise can gleam and peter out in a span of months; when the season is particularly bereft of interesting observations, it becomes boilerplate rhetoric for writers scrambling to . By stamping his imprimatur on 2018, Maru has effectively closed the book on that tired tale. Even now, with BlizzCon looming on the horizon, it’s a struggle to articulate the significance of future tournaments in a way that suggests necessity. There is nothing left for Maru to prove—not to his stalwart fans, to his contemporaries, or the niggling voice inside that kept him on the straight and narrow during the apex and nadir of his careers. If he graciously decided to retire tomorrow, he would still hold a firm claim to the title of GOAT.
Material rewards and legacy aside, only the thrill of success remains. Maru is a competitor at heart (one must be simply to survive in such a punishing environment) who isn’t satisfied at the prospect of standing head and shoulders above his peers. 3 consecutive GSL championships is an accomplishment he can treasure on his death bed, but as long as the fourth one is within reach he will instinctively strive towards it. Like lounging on a Hawaiian beach watching an idyllic sunset, Maru yearns to relish every moment of his newfound success. And there’s no better way to maintain momentum than winning the biggest tournament of the year. BlizzCon is a daunting challenge for the majority of attendees; every round advanced is an ordeal, a feat of survival. BlizzCon for Maru is dessert at the end of a long buffet. Hoisting the trophy will simply satiate his hunger until the next GSL season begins.
His road to completing the hat trick was mostly effortless. After breezing through both group stages, Maru slapped aside GuMiho to set up a rematch against Season 1 finalist Zest. Their series garnered much-deserved ragging for how short and ugly it turned out, which sparked some hope Zest would summon more resistance during their second tryst. Such hope was in vain. A 4-1 score is closer on paper, but truthfully Maru imposed his will with equal brutality.
Maru’s bout with TY in the finals proved a nervewracking affair. Just like in their tussle in the finals of WESG last year, both players leveraged the frantic tempo of their standard gameplay. The effectiveness of such attitudes ranged from counterproductive to game-winning. At first Maru’s gambles on proxy play failed: TY jumped out to a 2-0 lead after deflecting his opponent’s early-game rushes. He found greater success with curbing his aggression to aim for macro games. In particular, Game 4 on Lost and Found saw Maru patiently transition into sky Terran to take a split-map scenario. Sensing Maru’s plan to exploit his mid and lategame prowess, TY took a page from Maru’s book on Blue Shift with a 2 base tank push. It failed to deliver the killing blow but the economic damage, along with 2 vikings executing a runby later on, granted TY enough wiggle room to snuff out Maru’s counterattack. Acid Plant started out well for the insurgent, who continued to adroitly parry proxy barracks shenanigans. TY’s admirable defense only applied to the first 3 minutes though. Once Maru regained his bearings, TY’s initial defense couldn’t compensate for his inability to check Maru’s map movements or prevent his fourth base from mining unperturbed. Eventually Maru out-muscled him with sheer numbers.
Game 7 on Atlas was a short, tense affair. For a brief stretch of time TY could taste the upset. He had shut down Maru’s choice of cloaked banshees, leaving the Jin Air Terran in a precarious spot. Down 10 workers and a third CC, Maru gambled the series on the most decisive and desperate of moves. He gathered his remaining marine/tank/banshee force and hurled it at TY’s natural in a last ditch all-in. TY almost rebuffed with a SCV pull but in the end, the tanks and banshees output too much damage to absorb. Maru survived with 1 cyclone, 1 banshee, and a repairing SCV. His paltry army was strong enough to wipe out the stragglers helplessly spawning from TY’s production.
The coup de grace signaled an end of uncertainty, the closing chapter to his saga of deferred potential. Ever since the dawn of sports audiences have bemoaned lost futures that only exist in the imagination. It is a routine pastime in SC2, where a player’s promise can gleam and peter out in a span of months; when the season is particularly bereft of interesting observations, it becomes boilerplate rhetoric for writers scrambling to . By stamping his imprimatur on 2018, Maru has effectively closed the book on that tired tale. Even now, with BlizzCon looming on the horizon, it’s a struggle to articulate the significance of future tournaments in a way that suggests necessity. There is nothing left for Maru to prove—not to his stalwart fans, to his contemporaries, or the niggling voice inside that kept him on the straight and narrow during the apex and nadir of his careers. If he graciously decided to retire tomorrow, he would still hold a firm claim to the title of GOAT.
Material rewards and legacy aside, only the thrill of success remains. Maru is a competitor at heart (one must be simply to survive in such a punishing environment) who isn’t satisfied at the prospect of standing head and shoulders above his peers. 3 consecutive GSL championships is an accomplishment he can treasure on his death bed, but as long as the fourth one is within reach he will instinctively strive towards it. Like lounging on a Hawaiian beach watching an idyllic sunset, Maru yearns to relish every moment of his newfound success. And there’s no better way to maintain momentum than winning the biggest tournament of the year. BlizzCon is a daunting challenge for the majority of attendees; every round advanced is an ordeal, a feat of survival. BlizzCon for Maru is dessert at the end of a long buffet. Hoisting the trophy will simply satiate his hunger until the next GSL season begins.