But the most interesting of all the storylines is the event in general, where it is currently hosted in Shanghai, China. It’s the first time a TI has ever taken place in the country. It’s the culmination for millions of fans from a singular region that has shown their unrelenting and passionate support to the game. To that end, the domestic crowd hopes to see one of their own teams win the whole thing as recompense for PSG.LGD’s loss in the grand finals on last year’s TI and the breaking of the East-West annual title exchange. The law of equivalent exchange should apply even in Dota 2, the Chinese people believe, just as how the unsentimental universe would demand it.
All of these thoughts and then some were begot in the leadup to the group stage. Regardless of whatever happened during said stage, every team had a firm belief in themselves that they would trounce all others to be the last one standing. To be champions. To be legends. To be immortals.
But then, as if it happened in a quick blur, the group stage ended, and with it, the abrupt end of two teams’ journeys in Shanghai.
Reality can be a hard thing for competitors of sport to swallow, but each facet of it is just part of the game they’re in. Losing goes hand in hand with winning. One can’t be anointed as a winner unless there were some who sank below resigned in defeat, so for those that were eliminated (NiP and Chaos), we give our thanks to them for participating and hope to see them again next year.
With the conclusion of the group stage, the second round—or the main stage phase, for all the radiant variants of live broadcasting—calls forth. For the casual fan, the main stage gives them a chance to see players actually do their stuff while in the clear, sound-proof booth. They could see teams deliberate on strategy, decide on their draft, and react to key plays during matches, which is undoubtedly great.
On the other hand, for the seasoned fans and players who have been conditioned to the spectacle of this second round, no.
Just…no.
(Courtesy of Valve)The glitz and glamour of the main stage died out long ago for these people. In its place is the dire disappointment that was repeatedly shown to them throughout the existence of TI.
And it’s because of seeing first-hand how grueling these losses can be that the serious and war-torn people are supremely focused, or maybe even obsessed, on one thing.
To survive.
Ride each round and hope you don’t meet a premature end.
Although there has understandably been considerable attention surrounding TI, there’s nevertheless a shadow of the unknown that has pervaded the conventional hierarchy of Dota 2’s pro scene. Any item can be used. Any hero can be played. Anybody can win and anybody can lose, no matter how good a team has been in the DPC. The feeling of being comfortable? One would be grateful to even have a speck of that if they’re still alive in the competition after a few days.
In the second stage, nothing is unaccounted for. The level of competition is infinitely raised. An ingenuous spectator would marvel at the players’ delicate treatment of the second round, but it’s to be expected from those who are playing their games as it happens.
After all, this is The International. The pinnacle. The end-all-be-all. The goal of every DotA 2 player in the world. The eyes of the esports world is watching closely on this event. Only the elite are allowed to make an appearance here. But even then, a more select group of this cream of the crop can be capable of advancing deeper in their respective bracket, which is why, in this second stage of the tournament, the party of familiarization over. That happened in the group stage.
Concentration is paramount. Team cohesion is equally as important. Any wrong step could mean instant elimination, but the prize to those who pull through such errors is invaluable.
