I’m sad to announce I’m considering playing League Of Legends again

A long, long time ago I became obsessed with watching people play rally games beautifully. It was a blessing to see those disembodied hands sling virtual cars around with grace and precision, kicking up dirt in a way I could only dream of.

Now, though, I am going through a different phase. A less blessed phase. One where I watched the popular streamer and influencer Ludwig attempt to climb to Platinum rank in League Of Legends, all because he wanted to prove another popular streamer, who thought he couldn’t do it, wrong. I know I’ve already put you off, so I don’t blame you if you stop reading. Just know that I couldn’t stop watching his streams, even as it conjured up terrible memories of a time spent doing the exact same thing at uni.

Actually, what am I saying?! I adored my time with League Of Legends when it was still in its infancy. I remember my hallmate Ross introduced it to me, as a way of getting to know each other in the first few weeks of moving into uni. Little did I know that his rapid clicking on “minions” and shopping for “boots” and hitting “skillshots” as his favourite “champion” “Xerath” would rub off on me. Or on loads of us in halls. Soon enough we’d formed a team and we’d play non-stop, whipping out our laptops, booting into games, and shouting into each other’s rooms like maniacs.

Lots of us would later move in together and keep up proceedings. A friend of ours called Nick would come round for planned League evenings. He was significantly better than all of us – he’d later go on to coach amateur teams – and he’d plop his Razer Deathadder mouse next to Dominoes boxes stacked high as he prepared himself for an evening of carrying us through the pits of ranked play.

I remember being hooked, like, properly hooked. Evenings were for League. Finishing exams meant more time for League. I’d spend hours attempting to climb the ladder but never even reached Gold rank, which was the sad truth of the matter. Shooters? Yeah I’m golden. MOBAs? I have my moments, but no, they require a lot of forward thinking and proactivity, not so much reactivity.

Ludwig was entirely new to the game and watching him pick it up wasn’t only amusing, it was an interesting look at what it’s really like for your average person who thinks “Hmmm, maybe I’d like to give this League Of Legends a try”. Watching his streams, there were moments where I thought, “That was silly, why did he do that?”, but I often caught myself. I realised that I’d spent thousands of hours learning the ins and outs. What the champions do. The jungle camps. The buffs. The economy. League is an intimidating thing and watching Ludwig learn it showed how much work it actually takes to be good.

But I think Ludwig’s streams – despite him obviously being a strong entertainer and the hook of the challenge in itself – has shown how impressive League is, when it comes down to other live servicey esports games. I think it’s such a brilliantly paced affair that ramps up in intensity, where later fights hit this crescendo of importance: every decision can either spell victory or calamity. And that drama translates so well to the screen, where watching it has a similar cadence to the ebb and flow of battle royales. As much as I loved Overwatch in its heyday, watching it was a dizzying, confusing experience. Marvel Rivals is similar. Counter Strike and Valorant are better, by virtue of their more patient pacing.

There is also a huge part of me that related to Ludwig, in how climbing League’s ladder is like having your brain pulled apart by horses. There’s one horse that is the right decision, and if you make it, you will trot off towards a victorious double kill or a successful team fight. But there are always several other horses, frothing at the mouth, whinnying, ready to tear your grey matter apart the moment you do anything else. The twist? These horses are also your teammates.

And everyone tells you that good players can climb by themselves, even if they’re thrust into a team that’s as cohesive as Microsoft Teams and a good internet connection. You know for a fact that good players can – watch any of them and they take matches by the reins and never let go.

It was interesting seeing Ludwig go through similar motions to me, in the way he sought a winning formula and tried his best to take cues from the things he’d seen in high level play. He had a ‘cheat sheet’ (I didn’t do this, to be fair) and he’d learned how to shape his heart into a head, when it came to mentally scanning that sheet in the throes of a teamfight or a lull in play and making a call. And it was sort of mesmerising to see the slip-ups when he got tired or the match devolved into carnage. I knew it all too well.

Honestly, Ludwig’s league climb became background noise I’d watched so much up to its endpoint. As much as it is funny to see those crash outs and toxic team interactions, it was also been rewarding to see how much better he’d become and the knowledge he’d accumulated. And as he reached the remaining day of the season, it was genuinely astonishing to see him lock in for around 8 hours with a condition: if he won, he’d keep playing, if he lost, he’d go to sleep and return for a final session.

In a truly cinematic finish, he went on the most incredible win streak and, in one of the nerviest games I’ve ever seen, finally secured Platinum after more than 500 matches and two months teetering on the edge of sanity. It was something like 6am for him. He was clearly quite ill, his throat hoarse and his eyes sagging. But my god, you could tell he was almost floating out of his gamer chair with the thrill of victory.

There’s certainly a part of it that’s nostalgic for me, recapturing those times at uni where I had all the energy and the time to pursue my dream. No not the degree, pffft. The desire to get better at League Of Legends. I simply don’t have that in me anymore… I thought. All of this is to say: I am considering playing League Of Legends again thanks to him. This is awful news.