Volamel
2019-11-29 07:25:12
It’s relatable, it’s touching, it’s everything a Hallmark card wants to be. We often hear teams peddle the same narrative and throw around terms like “family” and “friendship” but, in this case, I think Lunatic-Hai meant it — and people realized it.
There’s no manufacturing the raw emotion RyuJeHong showed when saying goodbye to EscA and LEETAEJUN.
There’s no manufacturing the courage Tobi showed when he walked up in solidarity with RyuJeHong during their emotional post-match interview after their 2019 playoff run was over.
These are genuine reactions. Their emotions are laid flush like cards on a table. Take it or leave it, that’s just how they feel — and people connected with that.
What’s often overlooked is that this was the team that started as a silver medal contender, but ended up becoming legendary champions through teamwork. Lunatic-Hai were a fantastic squad who seemingly always could bounce back after adversity and display Herculean feats of strength, but did so understanding that they were going to do it together.
The cherry on top was how skilled this team was. To draw on a cliche, not only was Lunatic-Hai capturing the hearts of the Overwatch community, but their skill in-game was capturing their minds as well. Whether it was Miro’s innovation with Winston or RyuJeHong’s incredible Ana plays, or even EscA’s unfortunate redemption story with Sombra and Solider: 76, Lunatic-Hai was enigmatic.
And, to be frank, seeing them all follow their own individual paths is strange.
To see RyuJeHong in another jersey seems heretical — and to see him opposing familiar players like Tobi and Fleta only add to that oddity. It’s hard to put the feeling into words.
It’s that sudden and sharp realization that people, and their goals and relationships, have grown apart and things have changed. What you had, what you loved, what you thought you knew, is suddenly gone.
In a way, it’s like that feeling you get when you become super invested in a T.V show or movie franchise and all the characters you’ve become attached too have been killed off or have left the show for whatever reason. The name is there, the branding is the same, the director and producer are all there, but it doesn’t stop it from feeling empty.
It doesn’t stop it from feeling different.
And that doesn’t magically change when we enter the realm of sports whether it be traditional or esports. That team you loved slowly became just another group of players. One by one they’ve all stepped away for either greener pastures or due to lack of passion — and now they’re all gone.
Nothing stays the encroaching grasp of time.
And with RyuJeHong leaving Seoul Dynasty, Lunatic-Hai’s spiritual successor, there’s not much in the way of keeping that same familiar feeling as they did in seasons past. The narrative around their history and synergy after playing together for so many years is over.
It’s officially the end of an era.
The ties that bound Lunatic-Hai to our memories are all but dusty cobwebs, sprawled across a journal titled, “Barefoot.”
And within it contains hundreds of doting entries recalling fond memories of the past.
The fond memories of Lunatic-Hai, their legendary players, and their inspirational journeys.
I often wonder why Lunatic-Hai and their players were so beloved — I think I understand now.