League of Legends is the most popular game in the world, but I don’t see a lot of proof of that in the real world. Sure, I might be walking down the street and see a poro plushy, or a guy in a Thresh hoodie, but it’s mostly impossible to spot a fan in the herd that is New York City. In a game that has prompted Riot to talk about the importance of being social , it’s sometimes hard to make a physical connection with any other League player.
Lurking through reddit, I happened upon a post by a group of League fans who were renting out a theater in Times Square to watch the North American LCS finals. A group of nerds, getting together to watch TSM and CLG, the oldest rivalry in eSports, duke it out in Las Vegas at the most hyped tournament of the year: sounds interesting. I had to think on it for a few days, weighing the pros and cons of my neuroticism.
On one hand, I get really into watching League . Whenever I went to a Yankees game with my dad, I wouldn’t look up from my phone unless I heard the whole stadium erupt in a cacophonous rabble. When I watch League, my eyes are glued to the screen, counting each missed lane creep or item purchase with intense focus. I’m used to watching these games on Twitch, trying to explain to my roommate why I’m yelling so loud over a “video game.” Surely spending that time screaming with a bunch of other like-minded people can’t be so bad? I purchased my ticket and on Sunday headed to Times Square.
An hour before the games even started, the line was halfway around the block. The queue was filled with Gnar plushes, TSM and CLG chants, and the occasional cosplayer. I decided to wear my Braum shirt to try and stand out as a true League fan; I counted 14 people with my same shirt. The “I like your shirt” joke gets old after hearing it ten times.
I overhear two nerds who look like Jay and Silent Bob if they never smoked pot start talking about last week’s games. We spark up a conversation about how much they hate Draven, until they see their friends and get away from me as fast as they can. I can’t blame them; it got pretty intense when one of them said Primetime Draven was his favorite skin. Turns out it’s not proper etiquette to tell a stranger that their opinion is just plain wrong, that one’s on me.
Inside, the organizers gave out wristbands; red for TSM and green for CLG. I’m proud to say I picked green, knowing my boys Darshan and Aphromoo wouldn’t let me down. I picked a seat next to a pair of teenagers, decked out in their TSM apparel. There were business cards littering the seats saying “Support Thresh looking for a duo partner; over 1 million champion mastery points” with a Twitch and Twitter handle. I may have been a little jealous that I didn’t come up with that idea. It seemed like a free space, where nerds weren’t afraid to let their freak flags, or their Thresh hooks, fly.
The games start, and the crowd is electric. I couldn’t tell if the TSM chants were louder in the theater I was in or the venue the games were being played. Each mechanical outplay, epic team fight or downright disaster was heralded in with cheers and applause from our audience, especially if TSM got ahead. TSM was definitely the crowd favorite; my attempts at CLG chants always fell flat.
I know League of Legends is a community, but sometimes it’s hard to be a part of it. I don’t ever want to meet the toxic strangers I get paired with in ranked. Sometimes it feels like the only people who play this game are angry 12-year-olds and stoned college kids.
Being at an actual event and seeing real-life normal people watching League together reminded me why I love League of Legends . Sometimes it’s good to step away from the keyboard, even just to watch some video games.
Community Gaming New York runs LANs and viewing parties all around the city. If you’d like to go to one of their events, you can check them out on Twitter or Facebook.
