DSRack: TCM Power Into Grand Final

There was an edge to the match between TCM and Power Gaming and not just because of the comments made in an interview only yesterday. Whatever they think of the Power Gaming players and any perceived arrogance is just a small part of the equation. The bigger picture goes back to AEF, the then H2k side battling through the bracket of doom like five Indiana Jones’s, only to find out they weren’t really the heroes of the movie after all when Power Gaming stole their thunder and broke their hearts.

To add insult to injury they felt that they were keeping warm their best team in Europe spot, running their hands over it like a swarthy latino who suddenly started dancing with your missus in a club. The response was only to go one way… A natural, aggressive retaliation to a point of pride that is underscored by the supreme confidence that you are absolutely right and in that reighteousness, justice will be done.

Of course, poking a beast of the ability of Power Gaming probably isn’t the wisest policy and they sat there before the game, silent, seething, eyes fixed with intent. Perhaps they revel in their "outsider status", a strange recurring theme over the course of the conversations I had at this event. Make no mistake though, like them or loathe them, they are at least worthy of some respect for the talent they possess.

The first half set the tone for what would be a close encounter, too close to call, with TCM only managing to edge the half thanks to a solitary round. The issue was a matter of nerve it seemed. TCM were putting themselves in positions to win the round, not doing anything wrong as such but when clutch-time came the Power Gaming boys simply kept picking up the rounds, snatching 1v1s and 2v2s like a looter during the LA riots.

With the first round in the books for the Swedes, increasing their lead, it was Power Gaming’s turn start doing some damage, the tone being perfectly set by Froster decimating the TCM ranks with three frags. The next round saw Lubsohmir’s time to shine with him stepping up and destroying the opposition. Power Gaming were riding the momentum and bearing down on TCM who had no answer for what they were doing. It wasn’t long before they tied it up at 8-8.

When Power edged into the lead Qlimax went ballistic with his team, barking something in Swedish that didn’t sound too complimentary within spitting distance of miRACLE’s ear. It was understandable… His team weren’t on point and strangely neither was the big man, a rarity in itself, made all the more weird by the potentially inflammatory comments he had made in his usual cheeky fashion. Had he added unnecessary pressure to the proceedings? There was a layer of sweat coating his red face but it was pretty hot down here beneath the rumbling bowling alley.

Nerves were clearly a factor for the TCM team. A casual glance under the table showed three shaking legs, vibrating in unison, the classic sign of nervous energy. They get it back to level pegging with some frags from mumma but then lose parity again, the round edging them ahead being greeted with shouts of "NICE" – the most commonly used adjective at LAN – and then titters of laughter. What followed was some more tit for tat exchanges, 10-12 and then TCM called a time out.

It should have been a time to reflect to switch things up but it just seemed to be a means to break up the momentum of Power Gaming. It was in fact they who switched things up and it didn’t work in their favour, an early pick by Qlimax and a murderous spray on Luboshmir giving TCM the headstart they need to get within touching distance of overtime. It wasn’t happening for them though, Lubo answering back in fine style with a three man in the round to put the first one in the books.

After that three man he turned to me all smiles and said "We won one map, now we’re fucked". "We only won AEF because of the maps we played" he continued and there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice. It was a sincere admission and I couldn’t help but feel as if these players had been misread and gotten wrong by the wider community. After this he goes back to talking tactics for the next map…

It was, in truth, a waste of breath, TCM coming out on crossfire like a runaway freight train. They were out of control, especially mumma who just seemed to be running around fragging at will. Body language suggested that Power might have been trying to rest up for the decider… This was, after all, TCM’s map and it showed. The Swedes whooped and cheered each round, back to winning ways and back to how they felt it should be. The legs were still now, statuesque in their rigidity and Qlimax’s fury had quelled.

When that was wrapped up quick, a healthy looking 13-6, there wasn’t much of a pause before both teams hurtled into the decider. A few emptied their bladders, others quickly alt tabbed to take their minds off thoughts of possible failure. It was a temporary measure only though and when it was time to give it their all both teams duly obliged and started trying to fire their teammates up, creating an inaudible wall of sound that sounded like an exorcism.

And so normal service was resumed, tension all round as they took to citystreets for the decider. It was a ferocious exchange, no single round ever appearing convincing and no team edging ahead with a gap that would make you back them over the other. It was as tight a match as I’d ever witnessed, quite possibly in any team e-sport and nobody wanted to call it. As other teams finished their match they wandered over to the crowd and peered over shoulders to see what was going on… Each frag was greeted with reactions like you might hear in a skateboarding video, gasps and groans as it inched closer and closer towards the crunch.

You know what, it should have been 13-11 to TCM… miRACLE himself will tell you that. Given an easy kill to close out the round he sprayed and sprayed and sprayed only for no body to drop. The fortunate paradox turned around and capped him to take it to overtime. It took a while to sink in, his jaw dropping almost in contact with his keyboard, then a slam of his large fists into the Formica.

Overtime was probably always how it was going to go and TCM could have been forgiven for thinking that was their chance to win it and subsequently bottling it. They didn’t, mumma again dominating proceedings and showing what fine form he is in, possibly on the shortlist for man of the match this tournament. That award may well be decided on their performance in the grand final, their 16-14 performance eerily reminiscent of other events where they seemed to have done the hard part only to lose the final. Surely it couldn’t happen again?

That was a matter for the future a couple of hours away. As both teams shook hands there didn’t seem to be any bad blood, miRACLE even joking that he would have blown his brains out had that miss cost them a place in the final. The Power Gaming players joking suggest he should do that anyway and they laugh and wish each other well for their respective games.

For all the drama, the hype, the implied hate, the only story here was a great game played by two great teams. In the end no-one lost, although perhaps some who want to believe in such things will feel justice was done after all.