About a month ago, a group of friends and I entered a League of Legends tournament at a LAN event on a nearby college campus. As we sat in my friend’s kitchen discussing strategy, our team captain, Nathan, commented, “Wouldn’t it be great if the old guys won the tournament?” This began the conversation that transpires in today’s comic, wherein it was revealed that I am only youthful at heart… a heart that has a potentially unhealthy level of cholesterol in it.
As it turns out, we were not destined to win the tournament, although Team Dogwood did have a very impressive first round wherein our 3v3 team soundly defeated our opponents. I emerged from the round with an admirable Kills/Deaths/Assists score of 7/0/9. One of our friends who did not enter the tournament happened to have her computer stationed next to the team we were against, and she reported frustration levels were quite high within the enemy ranks.
The next round was a different story. Team You Got a Purdy Mouf dominated us in much the same way we obliterated our opponents in round 1. In all fairness, their team captain had won more games than I’ve even played, and they went on to become the tournament champions. It was enough to make me feel alright about losing.
For a game with a user community as notoriously hostile as League of Legends, everyone was an extremely good sport and accepted victory or defeat graciously. Maybe that’s because it’s generally harder to be a prick to someone when you have to look them in the face while doing it.