This entire blog is a spoiler, with my thoughts on the OSL finals after I watched the games and made my rounds around various SC communities.
Although there weren’t any back and forth games, the Lose-Lose-Win-Win-Win scenario easily made up for all of it. This really surprised me, since in the old days, I used to be such a stickler for game quality that I actually cared more about how well played a series was than its actual result. It seems that I’ve devolved from a gamer into a fanboy, ever since I stopped playing Starcraft regularly. This is a cause of arguments I see on the forums a lot, because the hardcore gamer types really enjoy ruining everyone’s good time by coming in, nonchalantly declaring so and so was flawed in this and that way, and thus overhyped (and they are right sometimes).
The opening was rather modest, compared to the hilariously cringe-worthy MSL intro. I’m not sure if there’s a video anywhere, someone please link it if there is one! Basically, it was a stage performance where a variety of “warriors” from different periods and cultures, such as a ninja, cowboy, etc, came out and performed some very awkwardly choreographed fighting and dancing (Jangbi and Luxury jumping up behind the stage was awesome, though). The Korean internet slang for this kind of thing translates roughly to “it made my hands and feet shrivel up,” which is something like “it made me wince/cringe” in English, but with the obvious exaggeration.
Oh right, the intro itself. There was some strange flower imagery, followed by some strange nature imagery, interspaced with some random quotes about challenges, victory, fear, and things of that nature. The funny part was that all these quotes were attributed to “The Book of Batoo Starleague,” with chapter and verse notations like the Bible. Something like “The Book of Batoo, Chapter 5, verse 1.” Anyway, it was typical OSL schmaltz, but there was one bit that would turn out to be fist-pumpingly poetic later.
The tag-line for this final was “Save yourself.” Okay, that’s the closest I can get in vernacular English. A perfectly literal translation with additional explanation for nuances would go something like “(Only you can save yourself, so) Save Yourself.” Substitute ‘redeem’ for save as you wish. That’s pretty damn appropriate for a series where Jaedong literally saved himself from the pits of hell and its ravenous vultures (Aha! I can make SC jokes too). For me, that was the cherry on top of the entire comeback victory saga.
I wonder who could be credited with that “Save Yourself” business. Maybe Um Jae Gyung, the main caster at OGN? He used to write comic books/manga for a living, after all, and he does happen to be responsible for half the progamer nicknames in use. I used to hate Mr. Um for forcing some really implausible storylines simply in order to create drama and excitement, but I’m starting to see his side of the story as of late. These days, I’d rather have any kind of story going on, rather than rely solely on my ever-declining BW skills to extract meaning from this evolving game.
In any case, he set some narrative framework during the opening stages of game three that I found rather compelling. For the first two games. Fantasy had succeeded in keeping Jaedong from using his greatest strength: his mutalisk micro. He achieved this with valks in game one, and his high level of aggression prior to mutalisks in game two. Now that he had taken two games, he was ready to let Jaedong play the way he wanted, while he would reply in kind. This could be ridiculous for many reasons; the notion that Fantasy was preparing for Jaedong so one-dimensionally, or that he would actually let Jaedong back in the game after he had taken the lead. But still, it’s fun to think about, and maybe there’s a little bit of truth to it.
Speaking of preventing your opponent from using his strengths, Mr. Um revealed an interesting tidbit from Coach Choi, aka ILoveoov. When asked was it really plausible to expect a 3-0 from Fantasy, Iloveoov replied “If we can seal off his strengths, and exploit his weaknesses, then it’s possible.” Not sure about the weaknesses part, but Fantasy did happen to win all the games where mutas were unable to play a big part (yes I know this is a dumb argument, but I really like the above story).
Another tidbit from Mr. Um! He had gone and asked the Hwaseung OZ players about Jaedong’s godly ZvT, and how often Hiya and Lomo are able to beat him during practice. Not surprisingly, very rarely .
The gender ratio for Jaedong fans seemed rather male heavy. When the crowd broke into “Lee Jae Dong!” chants during the introductions, the voices were rather low pitched. It kind of surprised me, as Jaedong doesn’t seem like that “manly” a player. The most overwhelmingly male crowd chant I’ve heard to date is still the roaring chorus of “Kim Dong Su!” after Garimto defeated Boxer in the OSL final. With Garimto, you can really understand this, as he was the TRUE man-toss before Reach. He was manly in that old-fashioned, rugged way, unlike Reach’s makes-you-question-your-sexuality handsomeness. As proof, his nickname was actually ‘Farmer Toss.’ Maybe Rock will make a final one day, so I can relive that memory.
The finale and closing ceremonies are some of my favorites in a long time. Jaedong’s tears, somehow, they felt more real than the many others I have seen. Then again, I was rooting for him all the way, so there is some bias there. Most importantly, the camera always had timely shots of Jaedong’s mom reacting extremely emotionally to every single moment. Feverous prayer at one moment, to ecstatic cheering in another. When she ran up on stage to hug her son, and tried to offer him a piggy-back ride – that really took the cake for me (they settled for a very awwwww-hug). Without her, his interview and tears wouldn’t have meant nearly as much.
Here’s a quick and wildly inaccurate summary of his interview.
Q: “What were you thinking after you were down 0-2?”
A: “My mind was just in a blank, and I was determined to get my shit in order.”
Q: “How about after you made it 2-2?”
A: “Well, you know, I was sitting in the booth, and I took a look out into the crowd….”
*Silence as Jaedong tears up*
Fans Chanting: “Don’t you cry!”
Q: And your parents were there. (GOOD JOB KILLING THE FUCKING MOMENT by saying what we all knew. Still, Jeon Yong Jun is still my favorite announcer ever).
*Jaedong proceeds to sob through the rest of the interview, thanking his parents and everyone he ever made material contact with*
Meanwhile, Fantasy looked absolutely devastated with the loss, and I thought his dead expression and voice were even tinged with a hint of self-loathing. None of that “it’s okay!” and a mini champagne ceremony from the rest of the team and coach Choi like when he lost to Stork last OSL. No more coddling crap, welcome to the jungle, kid. And he’s only seventeen, Jesus Christ!
Real emotions from real people, isn’t that why we’ve loved sports and competition from the beginning of time?
(Boxer’s tears after losing to ILoveoov is still the greatest OSL final moment ever, however. Not only do we have Boxer’s sadness in loss, but the bittersweetness in ILoveoov’s face reveals a world of emotions with a level of depth and complexity rarely seen this side of Dostoyevsky.)
The lesson is: Progamers should bring their emotional relatives to games. Although, that might depress me severely if they lose.