infodatos Chapter 214 The Arena
Chapter 214 The Arena
On December 15, at 7:00 a.m., the parking lot on the east side of the San Jose Convention Center was already one-third full.
Most of the vehicles were ordinary cars, but near the entrance were three television broadcast vans with satellite antennas mounted on their roofs. The vans bore the logos of various stations: ESPN, TechTV, and a local KNTV. Staff were setting up equipment beside the vans, cables dangling on the ground and secured with tape.
A huge banner hung above the main entrance of the conference center, with red background and white lettering: "STARCRAFT BATTLEGROUND - $100,000 CHAMPIONSHIP". The letters "$" were deliberately painted gold, reflecting the morning light.
A line had formed at the entrance, about two hundred people, mostly young people wearing hoodies and jeans, some carrying backpacks. At the front of the line was a tall, thin man wearing a Blizzard T-shirt, holding a ticket and talking to his companion.
"...I practiced Zerg aggression for a month, and yesterday I got my APM to 180."
"180 is useless, it's all about micro-management. I got wrecked by that Korean guy in yesterday's practice match, his machine gunner was like a ghost."
"The Koreans are here too?"
"Three have arrived, all top contenders with all their airfare and accommodation covered. Look over there."
The tall, thin man looked in the direction his companion pointed. A group of young people with Asian features, all dressed in black tracksuits with Korean embroidery on their chests, emerged from the side door of the conference center. They didn't speak, their steps were synchronized, and they were led by a middle-aged man into the staff entrance.
"A professional?" the tall, thin man asked.
"I heard he was poached from the Korean professional league. Blizzard is serious this time."
At 7:30, staff began checking tickets. The line moved slowly. Each person entering received a wristband—a plastic buckle with a serial number and group number printed on it—and a tournament schedule booklet. The booklet's cover featured a screenshot from the game StarCraft, and the back cover listed the sponsors: StarCraft Technology, Spark Internet Cafe, and Alienware.
Several long tables were set up next to the ticket gate, displaying exhibits. On the left was a demo Alienware computer, its screen lit up, playing a game on a loop. On the right were a Spark Optics mouse and keyboard, plugged into the demo unit, with a sign next to them that read: "On-site Experience Area - Queue up to try it out and get a free mouse pad."
A staff member wearing glasses stood behind a table, holding a megaphone.
"There's a queue here at the experience area. Try it for ten minutes and you'll get a limited edition mousepad. You can also buy directly on-site for a 10% discount."
A dozen or so people had already formed a queue in front of the demo area. The first person to try it was a young man in a plaid shirt. He sat down, picked up the mouse, and started playing on the StarCraft test map. The mouse moved smoothly, and the cursor on the screen clicked precisely.
"This mouse doesn't drift," he said to the person behind him without turning his head, "It's better than the Logitech one."
The staff member smiled and said, "We're an optoelectronic company; we don't have the kind of delay that comes with rolling balls."
The man in the plaid shirt played with the clothes for five minutes, then stood up and asked, "How much?"
"On-site price: 59.99, original price: 69.99"
"Give me one. Where's the keyboard?"
"Keyboard 39.99".
"I'll take it too."
The staff member issued the ticket and pointed to the cashier. The cashier was located inside the exhibition hall entrance, and there were already five or six people in line.
At 8:00 AM sharp, the doors to the main exhibition hall opened.
The exhibition hall, originally a conference space, has been transformed into a competition area. A half-meter-high stage has been erected in the center, with ten computers facing each other on it, all surrounded by black curtains, revealing only the screens and keyboards/mice. Above the stage hang four large screens, currently displaying the competition logo and a countdown: 60 minutes until the start of the group stage.
The audience seating area, with about five hundred folding chairs, was located on both sides of the stage, and about half of them were already occupied. Cameras were set up in the back, and an ESPN cameraman was adjusting the white balance.
A commentary booth was set up directly in front of the stage. Two long tables and three chairs were set up, with a monitor, microphone, and water bottle on each table. Two men sat there adjusting the equipment; one, wearing headphones, was testing the microphone.
"Test, test. Good morning, everyone, this is the StarCraft Championship..."
His voice carried throughout the exhibition hall through the speakers, and a cheer erupted from the audience.
At 8:30, the contestants began to enter the venue.
Sixty-four contestants entered through a side door in order of their assigned numbers and walked onto the stage. They were dressed in their own clothes—some in T-shirts, some in shirts—but all wore the same contestant badges. The stage lights shone on them, and the audience began to applaud rhythmically.
The contestants sat down in the waiting area beside the stage. Staff members distributed bottled water and energy bars to each of them.
A man in a suit walked onto the stage, holding a wireless microphone. He was Tom, the Blizzard community manager.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Tom's voice boomed through the speakers, "Welcome to the inaugural StarCraft Offline Championship!"
Applause and whistles.
Tom read an opening speech, introducing the prize pool: a total prize pool of $100,000, with the champion taking home $50,000. Then he began to explain the tournament format: BO1 in the group stage, BO3 after the round of 16, and BO5 in the final.
"Now," Tom raised his voice, "let's welcome our special guests for today—James Finney, lead designer of StarCraft at Blizzard Entertainment, and John Smith, a professional gamer turned commentator!"
Two men walked onto the commentary booth from the side of the stage. James was wearing a Blizzard polo shirt, and John was wearing a T-shirt with "Zerg Rush" printed on it. They sat down and waved to the camera.
Another cheer erupted from the audience.
At 9:00 AM sharp, the countdown resets to zero.
Tom announced, "The first round of the group stage is now beginning! Please welcome the first group of players to the stage!"
Eight players stood up from the waiting area, walked onto the stage, and sat down at their assigned computers. Staff helped them set up their equipment, confirming that the mice and keyboards were working properly. The large screen on the stage switched to a group match schedule, displaying each player's game ID and race.
The commentator James's voice rang out:
"Alright, we can now see that the first group of players is in position. The one on the left is 'Slayer,' a Zerg player from South Korea, whose APM is said to reach 250. The one on the right is 'Mountain,' a Terran player from the United States, who specializes in mechanized pushes..."
Game start.
Ten computer screens lit up simultaneously, game loading screens flashing. The stands fell silent, everyone staring at the large screen. The screen was now split into four displays, showing four matches playing simultaneously.
The sound of keyboard typing came from the stage, dense and rapid, like raindrops.
The players leaned forward, their eyes glued to the screen. Some were lip-reading, silently muttering something. Others were rapidly clicking the side buttons of the mouse.
On the big screen, a Zerg vs. Terran match is underway. In Zerg player 'Slayer's' base, Drones are frantically gathering resources, and Hatcheries have been placed early. Terran player 'Mountain' has started with two Barracks, and Marines and Medics are already gathering.
"Look here," John, the commentator, spoke quickly, "Slayer's six Zerglings have already set off, heading straight for the Terran base. But Mountain was prepared, blocking the entrance with a supply depot. The Zerglings are biting the supply depot... Oh! Mountain's Marines are coming out, firing! One Zergling is dead..."
A gasp of "Wow!" came from the audience.
A young man in a red hoodie stood up from his seat, clenching his fist: "Bite it through! Bite it through!"
His companion pulled him down to sit: "Don't shout, look to the other side."
On another split screen, a Protoss civil war is in its mid-game. Both sides have Lightning Soldiers, and Psionic Storms are raining down across the battlefield, causing units to vanish in swathes.
"Beautiful!" commentator James couldn't help but exclaim, "That Mind Storm was perfectly executed, taking down four of their Dragon Knights! Now the troop disparity is widening..."
At 9:40, the first round of the competition gradually came to an end. Winners raised their hands to signal, and staff recorded the results. Losers took off their headphones; some leaned back in their chairs and closed their eyes, while others got up and left the stage.
Slayer won. He stood up, shook hands with his opponent Mountain, and then walked towards the waiting area. On the way, he took a bottle of water from a staff member, unscrewed it, and took a big gulp, his hand trembling slightly.
Tom walked onto the stage and announced the entry of the second round of contestants.
The match continued.