As we entered the stage feeling like rockstars performing their first arena show, I was quaking. A swirl of nausea made me stumble to the seat while a pool of sweat accumulated on my armpits and hands. Amaya brought us into a huddle in our chairs and said. “We got this, guys. Just play how we normally play, and we’ll advance. And don’t let me die first.” She winked and grinned.
I feigned a laugh. All the color drained from my face. My mouth was dry and filled with the taste of coppery blood. Wyatt had a hazy smile but a confident nod. Darren pursed his eyebrows together, and his mouth was flat. He looked like he was about to enter a business meeting.
A silver-white halo outlined the four of us as we plugged in our controllers and charged head-first into digital fantastic battle.
They had a plan, and ours wasn’t nearly as solidified. We could practice against the AI with what the tournament circuit gave us, but computers didn’t know to target the best player. Clover Leef and his gang tried to take down Amaya first, but Darren and Wyatt were no slouch. I tried to take on one of the guys one on one, lighting him up with my magic arrows as Golden-Bow, but he kept sprinting away, targeting only Amaya, which was actually helpful because it left me alone to fire off specialty arrows. I couldn’t believe it, but I took out their weakest link first, using only projectiles. Then it was four on three. Amaya’s health percentage was at 10, but Darren and Wyatt were both sitting at 70, and they could sweep away the other three when all four of us came in.
The rest of our matches with Clover Leef had a similar pattern. They ganged up on Amaya sometimes, their strategy worked, and they could knock her out first and then take care of the three of us. We went to all five games, and my controller was drenched in sweat. In the end, Amaya served up the last knockout with 5 percent left on her health with Darren at the same.
“Team Amaya advances to round two!”
The audience celebrated so fast it was like a lightning strike, followed by thunderous applause. The four of us gathered together on stage, waved at the cheering crowd, and shuffled back to the media room, where there was no shower of adoration. Just mutual respect of our table still sitting free for us.
The next matchup was exciting for me to watch. I grabbed a small bowl of popcorn and shared it with Darren as we munched on and cheered for our friend 75K to take down the newer top eight pro on the scene, Mant1sC0re rank: 7. Both teams took it to five games, and in the end, 75K’s Soul-Steel stood tall and proud among the scrap-heap of carnage from all the other in-game warriors.
Wyatt put his feet on the table after grabbing a glass of water (which he chugged) and released a loud sigh of relief. “This is the life. Now we get to kick back, relax, and enjoy the losers bracket. Nice work out there, team, they tried to snipe out Amaya first, but no siree-bob.” Wyatt wagged his finger.
“Wyatt, you should put your feet down before I smack them off the table. What the hell is the matter with you, treating the space like it’s your living room?” Darren whispered with his eyebrows caving inward.
“Okay, all right, chill out, mom,” Wyatt said and snickered.
Amaya waved at us to get our attention. “There’s a strategy we have to watch out for, guys. I didn’t really think about it since it’s the first time I’ve been here in two years AND on my own. All of the opponents are going to be targeting me, but Gordie, you did a great job at improvising and shooting projectiles into the fray. We all played super well, and I like our chances from here on out. The only bummer is that we have to play 75K next, but I think he has a little bit of a weaker team than the others. Any questions?”
Silence.
“Great, just keep it up, everyone!”
The losers bracket began, and no. 8 Zlugburg took down no. 5 Knyghtmare in an upset. A turn that made the other players in the media room collectively ‘oooh’ like a forest full of owls at night. No. 6 Clove Leef beat No. 7 Mant1sC0re. My heart ached for all the players who were sent home immediately. I guess it’s better now than to have your hopes up and go home later when it feels like there’s more at stake.
Dayzees took care of business with Smith before we had to go up on stage next.
We faced off against our friendly rival, 75K, which I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to have to go up against him again. I was definitely the weakest link, but I couldn’t help but think back to the singles matchup I had against him in Chicago. A few fleeting thoughts of Michael poked at me, but fortunately, I could key in on the match, even though after five achingly close games, we lost.
Damn. We are already in the losers bracket, I felt like it happened so fast, but two hours had already gone since we set foot in the arena. The money started to swirl away like a lengthy toilet flush.
“Chin up, pal,” Darren said when we were back in the media room. “It happens to the best of them. We’ll self-critique here in a minute with the gang, watch the other matches with an analytical eye, and plot out our next game with KnyghtMare.”
We all leaned in together at the table as best we could, shoulder to shoulder. Amaya was discussing the battle plan like a general in the war room. “If you can, save KnyghtMare for last. He’s not that good at prioritizing his time so far in the tournament. We can take out his other guys because he’s not sure where to be attacking. They just wanna play man to man, which even if we do that, I think we’ll still win, but I think it would be a good idea for Gordie and me to gang up on one guy while you take on whoever is not KnyghtMare. Got it?”
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“Got it!” the three of us chimed.
Wyatt didn’t have his hazy smile, Darren was business as usual, and I was a sweating blob of sweaty sweat.
Time was still flying at breakneck speed in the fast lane of the autobahn. Smith beat Clover Leef in a blast of five games. Our number was called up next. On our trot towards the holy ARAKAN sphere on stage, my mind went numb, and I didn’t know where I was.
“Snap out of it, Gordie,” was whispered in my ear.
I spun around, jaw dangling and eyes cranked open to see who relayed the message, but no one was in sight.
I heard something, dammit, I heard something.
Stepping out onto the white light on the stage, I felt like I was reflecting more light than the moon, with the layer of sweat glazing every inch of me.
Could the audience tell I’m taking so many deep breaths that I’m lightheaded?
Darren patted me on the back discretely and whispered, “No need to shake, man, you’re good. We’re gonna come home with the gold.”
We plugged our controllers in, the match started up, and I was mentally submerged in the world of Elite Crushers. I had no strategy. I hopped in the battle and fired my arrows like a madman without regard for anyone else. I was the first to fall on our team. Amaya, Darren, and Wyatt picked up the slack and came away with a victory in game one.
Amaya leaned over and whispered, “Gordie, I don’t know what I have to do to get you to relax, but if you can calm down and follow instructions, we have a good chance of winning it all. I don’t want you to feel pressured, but I must point out that you’re not fully coherent.”
Amaya’s words were a slap to the face and a splash of cold water. She was right. I had to get it together. I took a final deep breath to end all other deep breaths and shook my head to get out of my own head.
Time to pick up the slack.
Amaya’s battle plan returned to my memory, and I followed her instructions for the following matches. We won three straight games, taking down team KnightMare.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Amaya grinned.
The audience burst with applause, and we turned to them and waved. For the first time since the tournament got underway, I saw the crowd and realized that I was performing in the Miami challenge, and we had come pretty far.
Up Next, our match was with the four seed, Smith, but first, we had the opportunity to watch quite the show-stopping event that would probably lead to a rematch in the finals: 75K vs. Dayzees.
Dayzees won.
Whoever won between Smith and us would face 75K (we were so damn close last time we deserved another shot).
Amaya drafted another battle plan, and the three of us accepted the strategy without question. Another five-game exhausting stretch occurred, but we duked it out in dazzling combos and masterful dodges.
“A-my-uh! A-my-uh!” the crowd chanted.
We had won against the fourth seed. The only teams left were the top three seeded teams. We returned to the media room and put our heads together for the next round.
“To be honest, I don’t really have a strategy against 75K. Play simple man to man, and let me take care of him. I think you guys can take out his ‘henchmen’ if you will,” Amaya said, and her shoulders bounced. “Do any of you guys have any strategy?”
None of us said a word. Wyatt and I had faced 75K’s wrath before; we were smiling at the fact that Amaya was going to take him head-on.
As our team and 75K’s team started out on stage, the audience reaction was the loudest it had been. The whole arena was quaking; my ears begged for it to end. My brain didn’t know how to comprehend any of it except to chuckle, plug in the controller, and zone out.
75K’s team and ours clashed in another blockbuster battle. Each one came down to the wire. 75K had the first victory, we took the second, they took the third, and we took the fourth. Finally, in the clearing after Darren, Wyatt, and myself were knocked out, the other three ‘henchmen’ gone, alone stood Amaya and 75K. Two titans. 10% health left. A simple 3 hit combo could end it all. They paused briefly as the audience clapped so loud it sounded like a hurricane over the ocean. 75K and Amaya both chuckled and let go of their controllers as the whole audience was giving a standing ovation. They turned to each other, shook hands, and pulled in for a hug.
I have never seen such respect during an Elite Crushers event. It felt electrifying being up on stage and hearing the crowd cheer even louder as 75K and Amaya wrapped their arms around each other.
At that moment, I had an out-of-body experience. I was watching the tournament from a distance on stage, or maybe I was just watching it all unfold on the jumbotron. All of my hairs stood on end as if I had doused myself in pre-shave.
They returned to their controllers, both grinning so hard their faces must’ve hurt. 75K and Amaya mutually counted to three and resumed play.
It was a game of rock, paper, scissors. 75K lunged for the first attack going for the kill (paper). Amaya deftly sidestepped and shot a bullet stream of stardust, rendering Soul-Steel out cold (scissors).
The audience sonic boomed with applause. Not a single person was sitting, and they all started up again with the “A-my-uh” cheer louder than before (which I didn’t think was possible).
We retreated back to the media room, where all the teams were still huddled in their groups. All of them clapped, and we all bowed our heads and waved.
“Just one last match to go, Gordie,” Darren said, patting my shoulder as we sat back down for the last ten-minute break.
“Technically, two more matches since we’re in the losers bracket, and we’ll have to whoop Dayzees in two sets.” I patted him on the shoulder.
“What’s the situation, Amaya? Any battle plan?” Wyatt asked, not an ounce of humor in his tone.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Depends on how Dayzees comes at us. Darren, I recommend you go after Dayzees to try and weaken him while I take on one of his weaker links. Wyatt and Gordie, you guys, just square up with whoever is your playing level.”
“I got KitCats,” I said.
The three of them raised their eyebrows at me.
“I played him, first-ever match of my tournament career, and I beat him. History is bound to repeat itself? Maybe?” I shrugged.
“Works for me. Remember guys to focus, don’t get inside your own head, and let’s go down there and kick some ass. I think we have a solid shot at this, and I’m not just saying that to boost your confidence. Two more matches is nothing compared to the countless games we’ve already played.”
“You’re right. Let’s get into it! I was born ready for this!” Wyatt said.
When the break was over, a moderator came in the room and called out, “Team Dayzees, and Team Amaya. It’s time.”
That was all the moderator had to say, and we exited the media room with a standing ovation from our peers. The audience sustained their enthusiasm as we walked out on stage and plugged in our controllers.