EPT![[image loading]](http://www.teamliquid.net/staff/SilverskY/IcaruS.jpg)
On Waxen Wings
By Alethios
Team Liquid: Final Edits
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
A nation turns its lonely eyes to you
What’s that you say, Mrs. Robinson
‘Joltin Joe’ has left and gone away?
A nation turns its lonely eyes to you
What’s that you say, Mrs. Robinson
‘Joltin Joe’ has left and gone away?
Much discussion goes on at TeamLiquid regarding the relative strengths of various players. Sometimes the word ‘bonjwa’ is used, much to the consternation of forum veterans. I was recently reading a collection of essays written by the late Steven Jay Gould, an evolutionary biologist, when I struck upon a new way of looking at this entire phenomenon and in doing so, was forced to come to terms with Broodwar's probable demise.
Once, bonjwas were undisputable. The names of
NaDa, BoxeR, iloveoov and 
sAviOr will be forever remembered. These players had a fearsome aura. Even the best players would know they would have to play very well to get a victory. Nowadays however, the word has been all but banned from these hallowed halls. The discussion is pointless - not even Jaedong or Flash have the same invincibility.![[image loading]](/staff/Alethios/TAATO/allfour.jpg)
The Broodwar pantheon.
This phenomenon is not only found in Starcraft however. In cricket, the likes of Don Bradman are found no longer. Rugby dominance is fleeting, far removed from the days of ‘The Invincibles’. The time of the ‘.400 hitter in baseball has long passed. Soccer seems to have lost its Peles, ice hockey its Wayne Gretzkys. Throughout most of the sporting world in fact, there is a common theme, as time goes by, truly exceptional players seem to become thinner and thinner on the ground. What is going on?
![[image loading]](/staff/Alethios/TAATO/bradman23.jpg)
When this man walked out onto the field, you knew you’d be in for one hell of a fight.
After sAviOr’s defeat at the hands of
Bisu in GomTv MSL, many thought this would be the beginning of a new era. Bisu appeared to be following in the footsteps of those before him, picking up a second MSL title and poised to take a third. That’s when Mind destroyed Bisu 3-1, becoming (at the time) the youngest starleague winner ever. Since then, despite Jaedong's often brilliant play, even since the true emergence of Flash as the ‘Ultimate Weapon’, we haven’t had a player who we know will win. Often this lack of legends is attributed, in part, to there simply being giants in those days. Granted the level of play was lower, but the legends were more exceptional people. Personally, however much I may love him and however much some may disagree with me, I see no evidence to suggest if NaDa was instead coming into his prime now, that he would be performing the same way that he did. He’d be good, even great, but can we truly claim that he’d dominate the scene for years as he once did?
The more switched on among us will suggest a variety of causes. The greatest players have the greatest stress put upon them, as their team and fans pressure them to succeed. Proleague matches and individual leagues come thick and fast and players burn out quickly, leaving very little time to be at the top.
I do not dispute these factors have had a large influence. However, I feel that this analysis is incomplete.
Gould suggests that, because extremes (the biggest, the oldest, the fastest, and the best) fascinate us, we tend to focus our attention. Fair enough, we’re generally fans of good and performing players. We can be forgiven for concentrating on these players, but we forget about the players around them that include the greats as unusual values. In order to appreciate the good players for what they are however, Gould proposes that we simply consider extremes as the limiting values of larger systems. Thinking in this way allows an entirely different explanation to arise to the questions that these final edits often seek to explain. Why are the best players so good?
Gould tells us that if the amount of variation changes (for whatever reason), then these extreme values may increase (if the total variation in the skill level of the players grows) or decrease (if the total variation shrinks) without any special reason intrinsic to the nature of being that extreme. Essentially, trends in extremes may simply be a result of systematic changes in the amount of variation. In other words, when player’s skill levels become more streamlined, great players find it harder to truly stand out, despite being no worse (though they are generally far better) than those that were exemplary before them. It makes perfect sense when you think about it; if the best players are playing less bad players and more good players, of course they won’t do as well.
This is all very well you might think, but what does it have to do with Starcraft? Everything, as it turns out. Think back, one trend that has been nearly consistent in the history of Broodwar has been the steady rise in the level of play. As Day[9] mentioned during a live cast last year, a good strategy on b.net used to be building 6 gateways in your opponents base (with a 95% win rate he jokingly claimed). I don’t think many would argue with me if I said virtually everybody in the PokerStrategy.com TSL round of sixteen has the skill to win an OSL, if they had been playing the way they are now, back in 2002. Then there is the steady retirement of players who no longer make the grade, resulting in fewer players at bottom end of the spectrum. Players have a fierce drive to succeed; you have to if you want to last long. Teams will not send out players in the proleague who they do not think can win and those who aren’t yet ready are held back until they are. All these things come together to make the competition inside and outside a team house very tough, especially amongst those only just making the grade.
The facts are inescapable: professional Broodwar has seen a gradual decline, admittedly often punctuated with the arrival of new builds and the sudden slumping of players, in the variation amongst progamers. There are fewer players at the very pinnacle these days, but also fewer truly terrible players playing at the highest level. It seems virtually anybody at the top level these days can take a game off virtually anybody else, so fierce and tight is the competition.
![[image loading]](/staff/Alethios/TAATO/shine1.jpg)
There are many parallels between Starcraft history and the history of other sports. One I’d like to talk about is the parallel between Donald Bradman and Ma Jae Yoon. Both players seemed in their prime. sAviOr had just come off a emphatic win against NaDa. Bradman was scoring triple centuries. He slaughtered bowling attacks with an average of over 100 (unheard of before or since), steering Australia to victory after victory. I remember sAviOr’s play once being described thusly: “It doesn’t matter what you do, he will just 3 hatch and kill you”. In a similar way, Bradman strode out onto the field, played the same way he always did, whoever was bowling, and scored hundreds of runs. Then they suddenly met their match in the form of a style of play specifically created to counter their style of play. Bill Bowes, using the specifically invented ‘bodyline’ bowling, took leg stump first ball leaving Bradman dazed and the crowd dead silent.
![[image loading]](/staff/Alethios/TAATO/bradmanout.jpg)
The cricketing equivalent of SAviOr going 0-3 against an unaccomplished protoss.
That story will be uncannily familiar to those of us who watched the series between Bisu and sAviOr. Bisu used his newly created build, the so-called ‘Bisu build’, to systematically destroy sAviOr’s previously invincible ZvP. TeamLiquid watched, stunned, as Bisu used sAviOr’s play against him heralding an end to the age of legends. Even now, years after his last major starleague victory, sAviOr has thousands of fans hoping for him to recapture that old magic. One suspects the fans, of which I am one, will keep hoping, trusting, until the day he retires. Bradman, for his own part, is now widely considered to be the greatest batsman ever. Regardless, the play style of both players has been beaten and the strength of batsmen and Starcraft players today far outstrips each player in his prime.
Now I don’t mean to diminish the accomplishments or greatness of the legends of Starcraft. They thrived in a time when creativity was king, which is no less worthy than thriving in today’s mechanics oriented play. Neither do I want to suggest that the players then had less talent than those of today. At the same time, I think it’s fairly self evident though that the standard of play today is far greater than that of yesteryear.
Boxer: ... I think the me right now is a lot better than when I was at my prime long ago. That’s how much the skill average increased. Even though if I was at my prime I would lose.
Savior: I believe the same. I think I'm better now than I was at my prime. These days everyone is so good, they don't get shaken up mentally either. Aftergame interviews of winners all sound like they were mentally fine. That’s how much better players got.
Savior: I believe the same. I think I'm better now than I was at my prime. These days everyone is so good, they don't get shaken up mentally either. Aftergame interviews of winners all sound like they were mentally fine. That’s how much better players got.
The question then becomes: how has this reduction in variation been achieved? How, in the case of Broodwar, has it been achieved so quickly? Keep in mind that this would only work in sports that are directly competitive (unlike golf for instance, which involves simultaneous competitions of player against course). When these sports are young, styles of play are often highly irregular. Play hasn’t become sufficiently established so that opponents are able to foil the style, the antics of the very best. To quote Gould, “Wee Willie Keeler could hit ‘em where they ain’t” (and compile an average of .432 in 1897) because fielders didn’t yet know where they should be”. The history of Starcraft is no exception.
Grrrr... was highly successful near the turn of the millennium because he was so far ahead of the pack strategically. In the days before replays, finding counters to his play took much longer. NaDa destroyed people because the execution of his ‘tornado’ style was so exemplary, many found it too difficult to counter. iloveoov’s stats looked like they did because he rode the crest of his macro revolution. He had the ability to seemingly pull armies out of nowhere, earning himself the nickname ‘cheater terran’. Nal_rA’s extended dominance lay in his ability to change and adapt, testing the frontiers of Starcraft, earning him the nickname ‘The Dreamer’ ![[image loading]](/staff/Alethios/TAATO/rafighting.jpg)
He could only fight against the current for so long.
I rarely play a game of Starcraft these days and I certainly have never been a progamer, so others could likely more easily pinpoint the changes and innovations that have led to this decrease in variation. These changes will have the common feature of increasing precision, regularity and standardization of play. The mental edge will forever be an immensely important factor, but players and coaches have found ways of removing many of the other edges truly excellent players once enjoyed. Players practice various builds hours on end, perfecting their execution. Timings are refined to what seems like millisecond accuracy. Builds are subtly altered before matches to specifically counter their opponents. It can now truly be said that professional gamers no longer ‘play’, but compete.
Jaedong’s play historically, and more recently Flash’s play, embodies this philosophy. In the past, players succeeded on the strength of their own play. Flash succeeds by nullifying the advantages of his opponents. His timings are near perfect, units are brought to exploit the finest of timing windows. His builds are exemplary, subtly different each game to foil the style of his latest victim. In fact, his entire play style is honed to counter critical aspects of his opponents play. Zerg regularly find themselves denied their third gas, while Terran opponents are constantly out positioned. Jaedong’s ZvP is much the same; his Protoss opponents find themselves foiled at every turn.
Many sports seem to take decades, if not centuries, to attain the same sort of regularity. Why is change in Starcraft so accelerated? The answer I feel is twofold: the replay, and the nature of the proscene. The introduction of replays vastly sped up the process. Immediately after a game a player can identify exactly what they did wrong and what their opponent did right and adapt accordingly. Even with the introduction of televised matches in other sports, nothing compares to the completeness of the replay. The proscene is another important factor. One feels players are driven further and harder in Starcraft than any other sport. Players live with each other and practice 12 hours or more every day, driving forth the standard of play at an incredible speed.
So what separates the good from the great in this new age of Starcraft? With the reduction in variation, no longer are players able to succeed in the way they used to, simply by being so far ahead of the competition nobody can catch them. Others have spoken of the greatest players’ unparalleled mental strength, their ability to dictate the game to their opponents and to play mind games, especially in best of five matches. I don’t seek to diminish those theories, as they are undoubtedly correct. Instead, I’d like to propose yet another way of measuring truly excellent players.
There are players who have tremendous natural ability, unparalleled mental strength and incredible streaks of good form.
JulyZerg is a great example, and to continue with the cricketing parallel, so is Ian Botham. What do they lack that stops them from dominating? The graph below shows Botham’s batting performance throughout his career. We can see that his prowess greatly fluctuated throughout his career, just like Julyzerg. Somedays they can beat anybody, other days they just seem to crash and burn.![[image loading]](/staff/Alethios/TAATO/botham.png)
Does this punctuated performance record look familiar?
Newer players often seem to have the game in the bag, but falter at the final hurdle. They haven’t yet developed the restraint not to be tempted by that ball outside off stump and throwing away their wicket, or taking a shot at goal but missing the pass to the teammate in the better position, or make the mistake of going for the killing blow too early and throwing the game.
In this age of fierce competition and high general skill level, the key to success is consistency. Consistency during a game, during a series and over the course of one’s career. Newer cricketing greats like Brian Lara and Sachin Tendulkar share this trait with the likes of Jaedong and Flash. They have the skill and ability to hit flashy shots, or execute flashy strategies as well of course. Lara and Tendulkar had the ability to bat for three days if required, driving down the ground safely and playing the forward defensive 3000 times. Soccer's David Beckham and Cristiano Ronaldo suceed for many of the same reasons. They have the ability to perform game after game and season after season. Jaedong and Flash, similarly, rarely seem to miss a step or make a wrong move. Even when they slip up, it takes an extraordinary effort to consolidate your advantage against them. They counter key aspects of their opponents play every single game. Look no further than their gigantic winning streaks throughout their career if you want testament as to their consistency.
Despite their indisputable domination of the Broodwar scene, you can see now that those at the top of Power Rank these days are not ‘bonjwas’. The time of the bonjwa, at least as TeamLiquid has defined the word, has come and gone. Call those who remain what you will; they are something different, something more.
I contend that Starcraft is only just now truly emerging as a refined sport. It is only now beginning to spread its wings and soar. We have come through the period all sports face as they develop, where the edges are being tested and new discoveries are being made. We have come, at last, to the pinnacle.
The legends of old fell from the sky when their success forced the hand of their opponents. In a similar way, with the impending release of Starcraft 2, Broodwar's waxen wings will soon melt. Blizzard has seen the finish and form of our emerging sport and could not help but see the potential for a sequel. The brilliance of broodwar has ensured the very highest of standards for the development team. The rabid fanbase is already in place. All signs point towards Starcraft 2 being a gigantic success, at Broodwar's expense. Essentially, Broodwar's sucess will be its undoing; it has flown too close to the sun.
I and much of TeamLiquid bemoan the loss of our great heroes. Tournaments like the IeSF are eagerly anticipated and fervently followed. Some bemoan the game that Broodwar has become. Some eagerly await Starcraft 2 so the journey can begin again. I, like everybody else, will likely make the switch when the time comes. On that day, spare a thought for Broodwar; Its edges smoothed, having attained grace and precision in its execution, only becoming all the more beautiful for it. Broodwar will be cut down in its prime.
Thanks to Silversky for the banner!
Good job!
