What I've Learned In Four Years
By Stax
With the conclusion of my third season of Rival Series, and this month marking four years since I first played the sequel to Supersonic Acrobatic Rocket Powered Battle Cars, the thought occurred to me that I should reflect on what Rocket League has taught me. Surprisingly after all this time, hitting the ball is not one of those lessons. While I thought about this on my drive home tonight, I realized this would be more complicated than I originally imagined. And so I've sat down, started typing without any real plan or structure, and decided to let the words fall as they may.
My first thought was about what makes Rocket League special. What makes this game so fun to play, no matter how good you are or aspire to be? Unlike a lot of games out there, Rocket League is simple enough to cater to a casual audience that just wants to play a fun and unique game, while also catering to more skilled players who aspire to place themselves among the best in the world. The skill ceiling for Rocket League is incredibly high, and as I watch pro players miss close-range shots and make poor clears and turn the ball over in the defensive third against minimal pressure on occasion, I don't think we're anywhere near it. New techniques are being discovered all the time, with varying degrees of usefulness.
Every season of the RLCS, we see something we've either never seen before or see something that was previously rare become much more common. We've seen defense improve, offense forced to become more creative, and the occasional strategic shift in an effort to create a favorable matchup. And even if we see something we've seen a hundred times, it's always the first time seeing it for somebody out there. Like a kid going to the ballpark and watching a great play made by the shortstop, or a big towering home run to the deepest part of the yard.
Perhaps my most important lesson is one that's a combination of my experiences in traditional sports and esports. Everyone is someone's child, brother, sister, best friend, role model; everyone means something to someone. It doesn't take very long searching my digital footprint on the world wide web to find some instance of me bashing someone, or being overly negative about a person or group of people. I've held my grudges in both worlds, still have some now. But I've found that very rarely is anything said or done out of actual hatred. Dislike maybe, or even ignorance, but seldom hatred. A player who calls another anonymous player a racial or otherwise hateful slur probably doesn't hate people whom that slur is intended for. To them, it's a word that they know is more severe than "idiot" or "moron" but one they grossly underestimate the effect of.
While I've not had much of that thrown my way, I have certainly drawn my share of criticism from fans of the game and players alike. Much of it is simply returning fire, or a product of a reputation I've created as someone with unpopular opinions. Unpopular being synonymous with wrong, in the minds of some. And it's a self-inflicted wound, for the most part. I've said things to get a reaction, and I've gotten reactions. I've clashed with people who have far greater standing on social media than I have, and seen unsurprising results in return. I make no apologies for that - I believe what I say. I'm not out here to be some kind of "shock jock" who always throws controversial takes out there to get people riled up and talking about things.
But to bring all of that about social media and reactions and the language people use, back around to lessons: both Rocket League and its esports scene are filled with incredibly passionate people. Whether they're fans of the game, RL as an esport, certain players or teams or casters or personalities, they're passionate. For many people, seeing a certain caster on a match adds to the enjoyment of the game. Seeing a certain team play and win makes the experience significantly better for them. Running into one of their favorite content creators in a playlist is the highlight of their day.
What I've learned about dealing with the vast majority of people in this community - those who dislike me, those who think I'm awesome, and everyone in between - is that if you're straight and fair with them, you'll get the same in return.There was a time when I might stand up on a soap box and condemn someone for certain behavior or grab a proverbial pitchfork and torch and join the masses hoping to send a message to someone I don't like. Those days are thankfully well beyond the rear view mirror. It goes back to what I said somewhere up above: Everyone means something to somebody.
And everybody has a story. Part of my job as a commentator is to present those stories to the viewers. Having a negative reputation with some players makes that job significantly more difficult. With many people, if they don't like you, they won't talk to you. All the same, I'd like to think that I and many of my fellow storytellers in the Rival Series and RLCS, have done a good enough job highlighting the fact that these players are human. They're chasing a dream, especially in the Rival Series. When I came under fire for saying I don't care who gets into the Rival Series, and I don't care that the format doesn't ensure the objectively best teams get in, I meant that. I'm genuinely excited for the players that do earn that opportunity. I've followed many of their careers, especially in North America. I've seen them bounce around from team to team, floating around the bubble scene because nobody would give them a chance. I was that person once. It took 16 months of casting either completely as a volunteer, or for virtually nothing, just to get asked to be part of a LAN. Even then, the first time I made a profit on an event was technically the only "Beyond" tournament that I casted. I got to stay home and make $50 when I eventually got paid a little bit later. By the time I received the offer for my first season of Rival Series, it had been roughly 20 months of treating a hobby like it was (at times) a full-time job. So when I rally behind a team like The Peeps, or I start "fanboying" over a team like ARG, I know what the opportunity means for them. And I know how emotionally draining it is to fail. To get your hopes up, work as hard as anybody else, and still come up short - whether due to factors fully under your control or not.
Just as with players, there are so many casters out there working their tails off just to have the opportunity to impress and succeed. I can relate to all of them on both sides of the scene. And for the ones who have made it into the RLCS, there was a time that I questioned whether or not they truly appreciated the position they were in. I think seeing familiar faces replaced by new talent - both players and broadcasters alike - has erased any of that doubt for me. Look at the level of play and the presentation of both the RLCS and Rival Series this season. The players know that the Rival Series teams are coming for them. The casters know that the Rival Series talent wants to take the next step, too. Some already have. And all of us in the Rival Series know there are dozens of people who want what we have, as well. It's competition, and it pushes everyone to work even harder. That's a win for everyone.
To summarize the past hour of thinking and occasionally typing: my experiences in Rocket League have been some of the most enlightening of my adult life. This game has changed my life and the lives of many others. Highlighting that aspect of Rocket League as an esport is something I find very exciting. I want to continue doing that as often and for as long as Psyonix will allow me to do so. The people, whether they like you or not, matter. For every person that wants to see a team or player lose, many others want to see them light up the scoreboard and put on a show.
And my personal advice to anyone out there who has people having a go at them, people who want to see you fail, people who are looking to kick you when you're down, or people who boo you at events: Well, it's not actually my advice. It's Reggie Jackson's: "Fans don't boo nobodies."
With the conclusion of my third season of Rival Series, and this month marking four years since I first played the sequel to Supersonic Acrobatic Rocket Powered Battle Cars, the thought occurred to me that I should reflect on what Rocket League has taught me. Surprisingly after all this time, hitting the ball is not one of those lessons. While I thought about this on my drive home tonight, I realized this would be more complicated than I originally imagined. And so I've sat down, started typing without any real plan or structure, and decided to let the words fall as they may.
My first thought was about what makes Rocket League special. What makes this game so fun to play, no matter how good you are or aspire to be? Unlike a lot of games out there, Rocket League is simple enough to cater to a casual audience that just wants to play a fun and unique game, while also catering to more skilled players who aspire to place themselves among the best in the world. The skill ceiling for Rocket League is incredibly high, and as I watch pro players miss close-range shots and make poor clears and turn the ball over in the defensive third against minimal pressure on occasion, I don't think we're anywhere near it. New techniques are being discovered all the time, with varying degrees of usefulness.
Every season of the RLCS, we see something we've either never seen before or see something that was previously rare become much more common. We've seen defense improve, offense forced to become more creative, and the occasional strategic shift in an effort to create a favorable matchup. And even if we see something we've seen a hundred times, it's always the first time seeing it for somebody out there. Like a kid going to the ballpark and watching a great play made by the shortstop, or a big towering home run to the deepest part of the yard.
Perhaps my most important lesson is one that's a combination of my experiences in traditional sports and esports. Everyone is someone's child, brother, sister, best friend, role model; everyone means something to someone. It doesn't take very long searching my digital footprint on the world wide web to find some instance of me bashing someone, or being overly negative about a person or group of people. I've held my grudges in both worlds, still have some now. But I've found that very rarely is anything said or done out of actual hatred. Dislike maybe, or even ignorance, but seldom hatred. A player who calls another anonymous player a racial or otherwise hateful slur probably doesn't hate people whom that slur is intended for. To them, it's a word that they know is more severe than "idiot" or "moron" but one they grossly underestimate the effect of.
While I've not had much of that thrown my way, I have certainly drawn my share of criticism from fans of the game and players alike. Much of it is simply returning fire, or a product of a reputation I've created as someone with unpopular opinions. Unpopular being synonymous with wrong, in the minds of some. And it's a self-inflicted wound, for the most part. I've said things to get a reaction, and I've gotten reactions. I've clashed with people who have far greater standing on social media than I have, and seen unsurprising results in return. I make no apologies for that - I believe what I say. I'm not out here to be some kind of "shock jock" who always throws controversial takes out there to get people riled up and talking about things.
But to bring all of that about social media and reactions and the language people use, back around to lessons: both Rocket League and its esports scene are filled with incredibly passionate people. Whether they're fans of the game, RL as an esport, certain players or teams or casters or personalities, they're passionate. For many people, seeing a certain caster on a match adds to the enjoyment of the game. Seeing a certain team play and win makes the experience significantly better for them. Running into one of their favorite content creators in a playlist is the highlight of their day.
What I've learned about dealing with the vast majority of people in this community - those who dislike me, those who think I'm awesome, and everyone in between - is that if you're straight and fair with them, you'll get the same in return.There was a time when I might stand up on a soap box and condemn someone for certain behavior or grab a proverbial pitchfork and torch and join the masses hoping to send a message to someone I don't like. Those days are thankfully well beyond the rear view mirror. It goes back to what I said somewhere up above: Everyone means something to somebody.
And everybody has a story. Part of my job as a commentator is to present those stories to the viewers. Having a negative reputation with some players makes that job significantly more difficult. With many people, if they don't like you, they won't talk to you. All the same, I'd like to think that I and many of my fellow storytellers in the Rival Series and RLCS, have done a good enough job highlighting the fact that these players are human. They're chasing a dream, especially in the Rival Series. When I came under fire for saying I don't care who gets into the Rival Series, and I don't care that the format doesn't ensure the objectively best teams get in, I meant that. I'm genuinely excited for the players that do earn that opportunity. I've followed many of their careers, especially in North America. I've seen them bounce around from team to team, floating around the bubble scene because nobody would give them a chance. I was that person once. It took 16 months of casting either completely as a volunteer, or for virtually nothing, just to get asked to be part of a LAN. Even then, the first time I made a profit on an event was technically the only "Beyond" tournament that I casted. I got to stay home and make $50 when I eventually got paid a little bit later. By the time I received the offer for my first season of Rival Series, it had been roughly 20 months of treating a hobby like it was (at times) a full-time job. So when I rally behind a team like The Peeps, or I start "fanboying" over a team like ARG, I know what the opportunity means for them. And I know how emotionally draining it is to fail. To get your hopes up, work as hard as anybody else, and still come up short - whether due to factors fully under your control or not.
Just as with players, there are so many casters out there working their tails off just to have the opportunity to impress and succeed. I can relate to all of them on both sides of the scene. And for the ones who have made it into the RLCS, there was a time that I questioned whether or not they truly appreciated the position they were in. I think seeing familiar faces replaced by new talent - both players and broadcasters alike - has erased any of that doubt for me. Look at the level of play and the presentation of both the RLCS and Rival Series this season. The players know that the Rival Series teams are coming for them. The casters know that the Rival Series talent wants to take the next step, too. Some already have. And all of us in the Rival Series know there are dozens of people who want what we have, as well. It's competition, and it pushes everyone to work even harder. That's a win for everyone.
To summarize the past hour of thinking and occasionally typing: my experiences in Rocket League have been some of the most enlightening of my adult life. This game has changed my life and the lives of many others. Highlighting that aspect of Rocket League as an esport is something I find very exciting. I want to continue doing that as often and for as long as Psyonix will allow me to do so. The people, whether they like you or not, matter. For every person that wants to see a team or player lose, many others want to see them light up the scoreboard and put on a show.
And my personal advice to anyone out there who has people having a go at them, people who want to see you fail, people who are looking to kick you when you're down, or people who boo you at events: Well, it's not actually my advice. It's Reggie Jackson's: "Fans don't boo nobodies."
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