Despite all my best efforts, or rather the exact efforts I've put in for the 10 years I've competed in SSBM tournaments, I'll likely fall short of my long-term goal of being a top-100 player in the world for another year.
This might be a strange time for reflection, since I've not done so poorly as to be completely out of contention, along with Shine 2023 coming up this weekend. There's still a chance that an upset or two at Shine, combined with local wins against top 50 players throughout the year, I squeeze out the coveted 100 spot or even somewhere in the 80-90's. Perhaps the field of players being eligible for the rankings is smaller due to attendance or semi-retirement, or the players I've lost to at majors so far (Ben, Paladin, RC and Maher) all make impressive runs at their next few majors and soften the blow of my lukewarm performances. No disrespect to my other opponents, especially those who had pushed me and taken games during our sets.
I'm not giving up hope for this year, not by any means. I'm simply trying to understand and document what this feels like. I've been fully aware of how my lackadaisical prep habits have a downside, where a majority of my gameplay these days boils down to Nightclub entry, teams with my discord homies, and the occasional sessions with Jmook's outrageous cast of top tier secondaries. Where there's little shame in my performances (If you don't know the players I'd lost to, they're all very impressive) there certainly is room for improvement in the way I - well.. improve.
There's been something different in the way I approach the game ever since Covid dropped. In January of 2020 I was at the peak of my melee involvement, which included creating a Podcast with my good friend Wassabi, which entailed interviews with different Melee players as well as a weekly conversation between Will and myself about how we felt as competitors. I had even started a short-lived series called "Road to Top 100" where I documented my weekly performance at HNC and a different element of performance. I was giving it my all, and had been performing quite well leading into March 2020.
I was also burning myself out - big time.
I had a brief period later that year in July where I tried my hand as a content creator and streamer, again short lived. The Wannabes would continue in 2021 and took on a big role in HMW's "The Big One" as interviewers for a content series. High intensity and burnout poked their ugly face once again, I just couldn't find a consistent groove in any capacity.
My fire for the game would fade for a while, only emerging once again in April 2022 when I watched my friend Jake get 2nd place in front of the whole community, while the UMF discord watched together in voice chat. I remember that moment so vividly, how it took me out of a 6 month break from the game and completely revitalized my goal to make my mark in some way.
I'm not looking to be a top player. But I want to prove that I can beat the top players.
I'd done it before. In 2014, upstate New York, when the shockwave of the original documentary brought waves of new players, I was considered an up and coming threat. My 6 months of high-school tournament experience playing on LCD's and Smartboards would give me an edge on the other Doc kids in my "class".
The first time I played a sprouting iBDW resulted in a win for Poonslayer, albeit extremely close. Shortly after Jmook would become the top player in the region in '17, I would edge out a few wins in bracket. 2saint and myself would go back and forth in sets throughout our whole career - with me breaking a 4 year dry streak at a recent Nighclub.
One of my most proud accomplishments was a winning h2h against vortex for some season in 2018, around the same time of his top 100 ranking. Love you Ben.
Listing wins is gauche, I know, but I'm not looking to brag so much as provide context. There's having an ego, then there's battling with one. Whenever I try to justify higher rankings or seeds, or take credit from my opponents I "should have" beat, I'm the least happy. I'm also at my peak performance as a player.
So that's my eternal struggle, I suppose. Finding the balance between what I want out of the game, what I want out of life, and what it means to sacrifice short-term happiness for long term fulfillment.
Every Melee player knows how shitty it feels to give your all to a tournament, to prepare with hours of gameplay and labbing, coaching and VOD review, travel and expenses, all to fall short of making any sort of headway. Even worse than placing your seed is getting upset, and if you did everything right then, well, what do you blame?
Worse still, perhaps, are the good performances where we have nothing to lose, nothing at stake. That recent win against 2saint? I also took sets off K8a and IloveBrooklyn99. I was also high as fuck and celebrating my birthday. Did I truly deserve those wins, on paper? Is there competitive merit to being separate from the results of a match?
Or is that simply how it goes sometimes, and by entering bracket we're basically just playing slot machines?
Perhaps by looking for consistency we find peace, but expecting control is the devil's blueprint. I struggle to align my goals with my actions, it's the cornerstone of my therapy sessions, and by never reaffirming or locking down a goal in Melee I probably only hurt myself. Maybe it's okay to learn these lessons in this environment, though that sentiment implies a "better" place to commit myself and, by logical deduction, means I'm never fully committing myself at all.
Here's what I'd like to commit to. My vows, so to speak.
I vow to try my best in every tournament game I play in, so as to never disrespect my opponent or remove the value of their potential win.
I vow to never fully quit the game, short of hand pain, major life circumstance, or movement within the community that makes playing the game untenable.
I vow to focus on my game and improvement when I'm engaging in it, or in other words, avoid attributing these lessons to other aspects of my life while im learning them.
I vow to keep failing, to follow my gut with new endeavors, to face my fear of success, and once again approach the line of burnout.
I vow to talk to Wassabi again, at length, on or off mic. It's been a minute, though we're both fully aware that our friendship always picks up right where it left off.
I vow to enter 3 majors in 2024, to throw my hat in the ring of top 100 while I'm still able.
How's that for dramatic? I've done vows in real life, to my real wife, though these feel nearly 60% as important right now.
I guess that's what it means when they say "Melee is a cruel mistress"
If you're reading this, say hi to me at Shine. Let's money match or freestyle rap.
