nexenholic

[nexenholic]

Spring 2017 to this point.

BLOG POSTS IN 2017 LUL

So quite recently, I was asked what went wrong with TSM during their match yesterday with EchoFox, who have quietly become a really strong, early aggression-oriented team. I actually think I should address what I think has been going wrong with the team even before the EchoFox match. Far, far too much has been said about the loss of Doublelift; he was a very vocal, decisive player that often made calls which led to a 17-1 2016 summer split. That’s a pretty hefty loss, without even mentioning his mechanical prowess and overall experience.

With that loss, we instead saw the return of Wildturtle, a long-time TSM stalwart who had a relatively successful stint on Immortals. On paper, the team shouldn’t be that different because they’re somewhat similar players. Except that Turtle isn’t really known as a vocal leader and has a history of inconsistency. He’s a likable dude, for sure, but he’s not perceived as being the kind of difference maker that Doublelift was. Now, let’s get to the results to this point in the 2017 spring split.

I’m going to skip over a series of games that I don’t consider critically important enough to evaluate. The 1st series of the season was against long-time NA LCS rivals and contenders, Cloud 9. C9 were generally seen as a top 2 team going into the split, top team period by some, due to the stability of their roster, along with worlds performance. I agreed with that assessment and actually had them as the best team going into the split, as well. They showed how strong they were from the get-go, easily beating TSM by a series score of 2-0. You’re probably wondering what I power ranked TSM pre-split. I had them 3rd. My top 4 teams in this order were: C9, DIG, TSM, IMT. I was actually apprehensive about putting DIG ahead of TSM, because despite a really strong roster on paper, I felt there was a possibility that they would need time to gel and build chemistry. The reason I had TSM 3rd despite my obvious affection for the team, was because I felt a new identity would need to be established on the team with the loss of Dlift and that would take time, perhaps not even being possible for the team to compete at previous levels.

Needless to say, I wasn’t shocked they lost to C9. I was a bit disappointed with how big the margin of victory was; neither game was all that close. The real litmus test, I thought, was the following day’s series against the team I ranked right behind them: IMT. I knew for sure that series would cement TSM’s standing as a top 3 team and sure enough, they won the series 2-1 in what were pretty exciting games. The following week was essentially the final exam(rather than litmus test), where I felt that in match against my #2 power-ranked team, DIG, surely they had the chance of a lifetime to prove me wrong and make me proud in the process; they did. We once again convincingly beat a solid team 2-1.

Moving on to week 3, we were set to face off against Phoenix1, a team that unfortunately ruined our pristine summer split record. TSM made a sort of narrative for the matchup, producing a trash-talk video featuring players from both teams. Personally, I felt really distraught after losing to P1 last split, but I was mostly over it in time for this match. And while P1 made solid roster moves coming into the split, I didn’t really see them as a top 4 team, but rather one of those ‘dark-horse’ teams that could compete well and possibly upset anyone. TSM got a mostly solid result, despite dropping the 1st game of the series; the ensuing 2 games were pretty clean and convincing enough. They had avenged the defeat from summer.

Up to this point, the team had a 5-1 record, winning 5 straight after that season-opening loss to C9. After a quick 2-0 against, quite frankly, the worst team in the league, NV, it was time to face off against a team that had been shunned by other teams. I’m not going delve deep into the reason, but it’s been said by many that EchoFox isn’t well liked by other teams because they attempted to poach players from different teams during the offseason; teams had been refusing to scrim them. One thing was clear, however: EF was on the rise. Their rookie jungler, Akaadian had been making waves all split long, carrying the team through the early game with his hyper aggressive jungling. Along with long-time pro players and legends, Froggen and Looper, this foundation had seen EchoFox jump out to big early leads in all their games, but ultimately lose 4 of them due to mid-and-late game collapses.

The team had said in tweets that they were excited to test their mettle against EchoFox’s aggressive playstyle; I was giddy with excitement as well. This would be a chance to vault well ahead of the other 2nd and 3rd place teams, adding a sense of accomplishment and confidence for the remainder of the split. It didn’t start promisingly, as EchoFox(pardon my word choice) analed us in game 1. Akaadian’s aggression had proven to difficult to deal with and they snowballed massively off his playmaking. Game 2 did start promisingly, on the other hand, with the team holding an early 2k gold lead that very well should’ve lead to a win, if not for EchoFox showing that they can hold their own in teamfights, even while behind. Eventually, the game got out of hand and nearing the late game, EF steamrolled through one last fight and convincingly won the series 2-0. 

I think it’s safe to say that with a 6-2 record currently, the team is by no means trash-tier. I mean, for comparison, that win puts EF at 4-4. Sometimes I have to remind myself that complacency isn’t and shouldn’t  be associated with TSM. 1st place is our team’s legacy, despite not always finishing with the best record during the split. Now, if you’re asking me what has gone wrong up until this point, I have to tell you this: nothing. Sadly, I had failed to realize this important thought before the split; I had ranked my team behind 2 others. I felt this was a reality, but hadn’t realized how unusual this occurrence is. Never had I previously ranked my team below 1st. It sucks, it’s lame, and I hope I’m proven wrong, but I’m left to believe that despite what should be solid performances throughout the remainder of the split, this team doesn’t have the ceiling that I have come to appreciate from past iterations. I’m not sure anyone can prohibitively state this team, as constructed, will ever achieve much higher than 2nd or 3rd place. 

I love the team’s personality, its players, and everyone around them, but I need to have realistic expectations; it’s part of being a fan~

[nexenholic]

The Baylife

It’s a sad thing, or unlucky as we like to call it in the League community, that this post fills the role of my singular post written every so often. I generally am filled with ideas but don’t often feel like putting them on paper… Also, please excuse any stupid typos or spelling mistakes; I’m a TSM fan and Worlds has just ended… for me.

So as anyone who reads r/Leagueoflegends, r/Teamsolomid, or any other league of legends esports-related sub would know, both CLG and TSM were eliminated from Riot Games’ League of Legends World Championship. If you’re on this blog page, then you’d instantly be aware that I’m a TSM fan, a die-hard one at that. I’ve written posts sporadically throughout the year that would confirm this. In these posts, I’ve chronicled the ups and downs of my team with gusto, overjoyed enthusiasm, and perhaps even obvious bias. The thing is, I don’t deny being overly engaged to the point that many reddit pundits would fanboyism. I’m a much bigger fan(hehe) of the term ‘die-hard’. Generally, this is understood to mean someone who goes out of their way to support their team, regardless of the sport(esport, in this case), through the thick and thin.

Personally, I’m now in a situation where the players representing my team, wearing my team’s uniform, donning the logo I love, and the staff who guide them along, become people who I greatly admire. This is despite having never met them in person. I’m so heavily involved in the action of supporting and cheering them on that simply by watching their interactions on stream, videos, or reading their tweets, I believe them to be people with qualities to admire. Essentially, anyone who becomes a part of my team immediately becomes someone I hold dear. That’s *my* definition of die-hard.

So what was the point of defining ‘die-hard’? Well, as I mentioned earlier in the post, 2 teams from the North American League Championship Series were eliminated from further contention at Worlds. Why mention 2 teams when I’m clearly only a fan of 1? Because as a team that represents my home region, as a team that’s combated with TSM throughout the entirety of the LCS’ existence, and a team whose fans I’ve become fond of, I can’t help but feel distraught in unison. Despite this, I can only write this post using my current emotional state. Back to my team, Team SoloMid, the team that pundits, myself included, had pegged as the greatest hope North America had ever had to *win* the Worlds. While most of those pundits had TSM battling it out for top 4, with a possibility of upsetting to reach the finals, I genuinely believed that the stable of talent, mixed with the guidance of the coaching staff, was enough safely push them up to the top spot. 

Most analysts would shoot down *that* sentiment, believing that Asian teams’ calculated aggression and response would lead to their eventual, late-tournament downfall. I held firm with that belief, however. As an NALCS loyalist, I would imagine that it’s quite similar to being a CONCACAF soccer fan. When it comes time for world cup qualifiers, and your team finishes top of their group, completely crushing the region, it must feel like your team is ready to take on world powerhouses. The thing is, though, that those said powerhouses generally are more established soccer nations, with greater emphasis on the sport, beginning at the youth level. That’s the argument that has been used to circumvent the issues that NA has had at previous international tournaments. Korea in particular is often called the birthplace of esports. Their culturally adept at handling the rigors of the profession, whereas in the west, we’re only now beginning to accept pro gaming as a career. 

This year was supposed to be different for my team. The team had found a perfect mix of raw talent, cohesion, and veteran leadership. We had constantly brought up our relentless training methods along with Weldon’s infusion of positive psyche. These were the ingredients chosen to create the perfect little—-uh, championship contenders? Indeed. I bought into this idea. It sounds like I’m negatively connotating that statement, but I’m not. I was enthused beyond belief. After all, we managed to end the summer split with an astonishing 17-1 record using these methods; albeit to outside analysts, in a relatively weak region. This newfound success also led us to our team’s 4th domestic title, following back to back losses to CLG. 

Having now qualified for Worlds, our players continued their arduous training in Korea. Here, they faced adverse situations that led to perceived un-trustworthiness. But through all of that, the general consensus seemed to be that we were ready take our place among the greats, finally. As this post is already excessively long, I’ll just say that we battled to a 2-1 record the 1st week; with a good shot at qualifying for quarters, we went 1-2 today, ending our Worlds dream. For those of us involved, it’s quickly become a dreaded nightmare. We’ve lent our support, cheered our hearts out, tweeted our appreciation for the players’ hard work all year long, but it wasn’t enough to catapult us to the top. Or even to the next round, in this case. As someone who’s experienced this many times over in traditional sports, I *still* can’t get used to the seemingly crushing sensation of having your figurative heart ripped out. It’s like being told by someone you like that you have no shot. One moment you’re daydreaming about having lunch with them, watching movies cuddled up; the next, you’re frozen in place, feeling anything *but* hopeful. 

Perhaps something that *has* come from my past experiences, is the lack of tears this time around; I found this quite shocking. I generally would try and isolate myself from people and bury my head on my pillow, shedding tear after tear thinking about what went wrong. This time around, I’m just left with an odd, unpleasant mix of sympathy for the players and general hopelessness. The players on this team put forth demonstrative effort all year long, only to get booted from the group stage with a mixed-results showing. 

With any luck, the players won’t receive unnecessary, blind backlash. I genuinely hope that these players take as much time as they need, even if it’s only a few days, to sulk and recover. I know *I* will; I love my team too much to just dawdle, mope and abandon ship because of yet *another* failed attempt at global glory.

[nexenholic]

The Baylife

It’s a sad thing, or unlucky as we like to call it in the League community, that this post fills the role of my singular post written every so often. I generally am filled with ideas but don’t often feel like putting them on paper... Also, please excuse any stupid typos or spelling mistakes; I’m a TSM fan and Worlds has just ended... for me.

So as anyone who reads r/Leagueoflegends, r/Teamsolomid, or any other league of legends esports-related sub would know, both CLG and TSM were eliminated from Riot Games’ League of Legends World Championship. If you’re on this blog page, then you’d instantly be aware that I’m a TSM fan, a die-hard one at that. I’ve written posts sporadically throughout the year that would confirm this. In these posts, I’ve chronicled the ups and downs of my team with gusto, overjoyed enthusiasm, and perhaps even obvious bias. The thing is, I don’t deny being overly engaged to the point that many reddit pundits would fanboyism. I’m a much bigger fan(hehe) of the term ‘die-hard’. Generally, this is understood to mean someone who goes out of their way to support their team, regardless of the sport(esport, in this case), through the thick and thin.

Personally, I’m now in a situation where the players representing my team, wearing my team’s uniform, donning the logo I love, and the staff who guide them along, become people who I greatly admire. This is despite having never met them in person. I’m so heavily involved in the action of supporting and cheering them on that simply by watching their interactions on stream, videos, or reading their tweets, I believe them to be people with qualities to admire. Essentially, anyone who becomes a part of my team immediately becomes someone I hold dear. That’s *my* definition of die-hard.

So what was the point of defining ‘die-hard’? Well, as I mentioned earlier in the post, 2 teams from the North American League Championship Series were eliminated from further contention at Worlds. Why mention 2 teams when I’m clearly only a fan of 1? Because as a team that represents my home region, as a team that’s combated with TSM throughout the entirety of the LCS’ existence, and a team whose fans I’ve become fond of, I can’t help but feel distraught in unison. Despite this, I can only write this post using my current emotional state. Back to my team, Team SoloMid, the team that pundits, myself included, had pegged as the greatest hope North America had ever had to *win* the Worlds. While most of those pundits had TSM battling it out for top 4, with a possibility of upsetting to reach the finals, I genuinely believed that the stable of talent, mixed with the guidance of the coaching staff, was enough safely push them up to the top spot. 

Most analysts would shoot down *that* sentiment, believing that Asian teams’ calculated aggression and response would lead to their eventual, late-tournament downfall. I held firm with that belief, however. As an NALCS loyalist, I would imagine that it’s quite similar to being a CONCACAF soccer fan. When it comes time for world cup qualifiers, and your team finishes top of their group, completely crushing the region, it must feel like your team is ready to take on world powerhouses. The thing is, though, that those said powerhouses generally are more established soccer nations, with greater emphasis on the sport, beginning at the youth level. That’s the argument that has been used to circumvent the issues that NA has had at previous international tournaments. Korea in particular is often called the birthplace of esports. Their culturally adept at handling the rigors of the profession, whereas in the west, we’re only now beginning to accept pro gaming as a career. 

This year was supposed to be different for my team. The team had found a perfect mix of raw talent, cohesion, and veteran leadership. We had constantly brought up our relentless training methods along with Weldon’s infusion of positive psyche. These were the ingredients chosen to create the perfect little----uh, championship contenders? Indeed. I bought into this idea. It sounds like I’m negatively connotating that statement, but I’m not. I was enthused beyond belief. After all, we managed to end the summer split with an astonishing 17-1 record using these methods; albeit to outside analysts, in a relatively weak region. This newfound success also led us to our team’s 4th domestic title, following back to back losses to CLG. 

Having now qualified for Worlds, our players continued their arduous training in Korea. Here, they faced adverse situations that led to perceived un-trustworthiness. But through all of that, the general consensus seemed to be that we were ready take our place among the greats, finally. As this post is already excessively long, I’ll just say that we battled to a 2-1 record the 1st week; with a good shot at qualifying for quarters, we went 1-2 today, ending our Worlds dream. For those of us involved, it’s quickly become a dreaded nightmare. We’ve lent our support, cheered our hearts out, tweeted our appreciation for the players’ hard work all year long, but it wasn’t enough to catapult us to the top. Or even to the next round, in this case. As someone who’s experienced this many times over in traditional sports, I *still* can’t get used to the seemingly crushing sensation of having your figurative heart ripped out. It’s like being told by someone you like that you have no shot. One moment you’re daydreaming about having lunch with them, watching movies cuddled up; the next, you’re frozen in place, feeling anything *but* hopeful. 

Perhaps something that *has* come from my past experiences, is the lack of tears this time around; I found this quite shocking. I generally would try and isolate myself from people and bury my head on my pillow, shedding tear after tear thinking about what went wrong. This time around, I’m just left with an odd, unpleasant mix of sympathy for the players and general hopelessness. The players on this team put forth demonstrative effort all year long, only to get booted from the group stage with a mixed-results showing. 

With any luck, the players won’t receive unnecessary, blind backlash. I genuinely hope that these players take as much time as they need, even if it’s only a few days, to sulk and recover. I know *I* will; I love my team too much to just dawdle, mope and abandon ship because of yet *another* failed attempt at global glory.

[nexenholic]

Balance of Power

With #Worlds group draw now behind us, the perception of regional power truly begins to show. There’s a couple of factors to consider this year, however, that enables a contrasting disparity from previous years. First and foremost, European MSI representatives, G2 Esports, performed sub-optimally. Infamously, they played the lack-of-practice card and suffered a thrashing at the hands of reddit, following a 2-8 overall record. Traditionally, the only repercussions from poor international showings have been the proverbial reddit bulls-eye treatment and the global perception of the entire region. This year, Riot introduced a traditional sports-like rule; the major region that places bottom of the table is stripped of their #1 seed at worlds, instead demoted to two #2 seeds. Europe, as a result, is viewed as being relatively weak coming in to the tournament.

The 2nd and arguably more important event that altered the state of things is the playoff performance of SKT T1. Always a perennial global powerhouse and the current champions of almost everything, SKT lost the semifinals to longtime foes in the famed Telecom Clasico, eventual LCK runner-up KT Rolster. The loss led to SKT obtaining Korea’s #2 seed, qualifying as the championship point leader. Prior to the playoffs, SKT had not been playing particularly well this year and many pundits were wondering when longtime jungler Bengi would make a return to the starting lineup. These factors lead many to believe that the world champions, and in effect Korean teams, are now beatable despite strong showings from ROX.

The league mvp Smeb-led Tigers are very much so considered heavy tournament favorites, but not in the same manner as previous Korean teams. Transitioning to north america and the result of the group draw, the region receives a varying analysis of current strength. TSM, as the NALCS summer split champions, after a historically great 17-1 record, are praised for individual laning prowess and their relatively strong macro play. Many *do* see them as the favorites of group D(TSM, RNG, SSG, SPY), but others are quick to point out a perceived gap in skill level between the players and their east-Asian counterparts. RNG, China’s 2nd seed, having lost handedly in the finals, were *also* not playing to their potential leading up to the playoffs. 

Samsung, on the other hand, ended up being Korea’s regional qualifier winner through outstanding team play in the deciding match against favorites KT Rolster. Though not considered strong mechanically as a team, their midlaner Crown breaks the mold, viewed as Korea’s current monster of the midlane. Taking into consideration the recent underachievement of RNG , the regular season inconsistency of SSG, and not to mention their relative inexperience, it’s a bit puzzling to see some experts pick the aforementioned teams ahead of Solomid. Puzzling indeed. And that, my friends, is why I’m mind-fucked over the current perceived state(or lack thereof) of regional power.

Here’s to another long gap between posts~~~ ^~^

-Nexen

[nexenholic]

It’s been a while~ I’ve been wanting to make a post all split long, seeing as TSM have been world beaters up to this point. Kinda just kept putting it off. Can’t really do that any longer now that we’re past midway. So first off, I’d just like to say that I’m extremely proud of the way they’ve played. I’ve never seen any iteration of TSM play with such confidence, such fervor. Along with their clean map play and calculated aggression, they’ve very clearly garnered some newfound confidence. I’m quite sure it’s, in some part, due to Weldon working with the team from the start. 

The only issue I have right now is the fact that they’ve gone relatively unchallenged; this results in TSM having stuck to 3-4 comps all split long. Understandably, it’s also a nod to how dominant they’ve been on those 3-4 comps, in large part because teams haven’t been able to beat them on those aforementioned comps. We very likely won’t see them forced into different champions until the playoffs at the earliest, possibly due to a mix of stronger competition or even a shift in the meta. 

Today, we face off against C9 and while I’m very much looking forward to it, I fully expect us to win convincingly, running our unbeaten run to 11-0. T-minus 15, boys! 

Side note: Bjerg needs to play Taliyah at least once in LCS before her changes come into effect :x

[nexenholic]

Inter-organizational Scrimming

So obviously, C9 have all but revealed both of their rosters and they’re already settled in Korea for their bootcamp. Now, this has been done before; teams have held 2 separate teams within their organization, as it was previously allowed even if both teams were in the same league. However, I think this is something that *greatly* benefited Team Liquid. Their challenger players were superbly talented and they quickly recognized that when they immediately inserted them into their open slots in their starting lineup. I think what helped these players along relatively quickly is the fact that the organization had their two teams scrimming each other constantly. The benefits of a systematic scheme like that is the fact that travel, planning, and convenience become finger-snap easy, in terms of scrimmage schedule. 

Now, if both of the teams are relatively talented and function well, the benefit is even greater, as they’re both subject to a wealth of opportunities for improvement. Another awesome addition is the added benefits of the 10-man roster system, where you can freely use substitutes(within riot’s foreign player guidelines, of course) to the weekly schematic needs of each team. Conclusively, having two talented, competitive rosters allows you to field hungrier, driven players, promoting mostly healthy competition among the rosters. I truly hope a majority of the teams financially able to support this system implement it soon; it will only improve the relative status of our league(s).

[nexenholic]

A poem by me

This poem is for an assignment in World Lit class, meant to be in the style of Nakahara Chuuya-san. I’ve written *one* poem before on a napkin, if I remember correctly. Basically no experience. :x

               Favor of the Wind

               The wind caresses my face                as the sun blazes                and the sweat builds on my forehead                I stare out into the sea                and I see only a vast, blue mass                like a backdrop on a canvas                The scene stirs many feelings                feelings of grandeur, fear, marvel,                and mostly of lonely seclusion                The wind being my only friend                seems aware of my internal                turmoil and it continues                to console me with its                gentle, cooling touch                like a mother reassuring her child

[nexenholic]

At long last, we’ve arrived. Through thick and thin, through trials and tribulations, we’ve emerged as a top-2 team in North America, after finishing the spring split at a measly 6th place. I sort of missed the boat this week, because I was going to post my prediction for this series; I felt that IMT was very, very beatable and that they would probably end up taking only a single win off of TSM. So 3-1 TSM. Only in my slightly wild dreams would I have predicted a 3-0 because I didn’t expect Immortals to play this poorly. Needless to say, I’m unbelievably proud of my boys and what they’ve accomplished in the face of adversity. I personally want to thank Reginald for fielding a product, split after split, that we can rally behind and be proud of. And Weldon, for once again instilling a sense of confidence and re-instating their drive to win and improve. We have a terrific chance of winning this split now; something no one would’ve said at the end of the split, after a disastrous final few games. CLG will be a relatively tough task, seeing as they always put up a fight throughout our historic, long-standing rivalry. I believe the resiliency we’ve shown and the overall clean, aggressive play we’ve displayed will put us on top in what will be a 3-1 victory for TSM; no boat missing this time, boys. Onward to victory and to the always-exciting Mid Season Invitational~ Baylife, baby.

[nexenholic]

We did it, boys and girls!

I’ll begin by saying that we were quite obviously and, rightfully so, the underdogs in this match. C9, ever since slotting in Hai as the support, have blazed through their opponents. It’s really clear that he’s far and away the best micro-managing shotcaller in the west, if not the world. I have massive respect for C9 as a team and organization; few others compare to their professional-setting standard, in terms of success and ethics. Facing all of this, we were able to take a 2-week layoff and turn it into a hyperbolic-time-chamber-like makeover. I’m extremely proud of the boys, the organization, and staff. I tweeted out a picture of my expression after our game 1 loss; needless to say, it was me in panic mode. I fully expected at that point to face a massive, uphill climb where it would lead (hopefully) to a game 5. As a fan, it’s really easy to tunnel vision on clear mistakes. I felt our comp in game 1, Poppy, Elise, Azir, Kalista, and Alistar, was solidly above-average, but I did not think it would straight up beat C9′s global, skirmish-heavy comp, Gangplank, Kindred, TF, Lucian, and Braum; they were going to have to survive with a relatively even gold count into the mid game where they could force full-on teamfights. 

Of course, it didn’t go that way at all. C9 were able to massively outpressure the side lanes with their global presence and snowball their lead into a dominant, 25-minute win; hence the panic-mode selfie was born. I don’t wanna turn this already long post into an even bigger wall of text, so I’m not going to go over every game. However, I will say that the rest of the games were relatively clean affairs, where we matched teamfighting comps with teamfighting comps and bashed heads. I was pleasantly surprised at the coordination with which TSM displayed in their engages and the resulting fights. We handled their aggression with some of our own and then some. Bjerg tweeted a while ago that it was the first time he’s felt them play as a “team,” a sign that their synergy may finally be intact. I look forward to our highly anticipated match with the NALCS-leading, 17-1 Immortals; should be great~ TSMWIN