Carson Koppin
4th Eastman APELC
Memoir
24 October 2014
Losing control
	When heavily investing into victory, the iron sword of defeat strikes hard. It was another chilly friday, school had just finished. I was finally released from the mental bindings that were the public education system. I was taking my annual walk home with a certain swagger, swag if you will, in my step. Oh man, I totally killed those two tests. They were so easy. Or so I thought... And then another thought transpired AND THAT MEANS I HAVE NO HOMEWORK. Yes! A smile lit up my face brighter than the sun. It was going to be a weekend worthy of the fantasy fulfilling title.  I reached the door and fumbled for the key quickly my hands shaking in excitement. I needed to get inside and get my computer running. The door made a satisfying “pop!” as is opened. I quickly dashed inside to my room, throwing my bag by the door in the process. I plopped down in my chair and hit the power button on my computer. Another wondrous noise rang out.
It was game time.
Me time.
Relax time.
Fun time.
My entire life had been leading to this moment. With my lightning-fast SSD, my computer was ready and raring to go in no time. “Time to play some League of Legends.” I exclaimed. The client loaded in seconds, the uplifting animation and song played in my headphones. I entered my account credentials as fast as my cold fingers could type. The alluring large orange play button sung out to me, “click me… click me…” I acquiesced to the phantom’s request. And just as soon as I complied with the request, my games was ready. I was ready to enter to the mental battlefield that was a League of Legends game. A ranked game, one for the real marbles. I need to get this win. The lobby screen loaded and I hastily clicked the chat box and typed “ADC” calling my role, seeing as this was a ranked game your chance for a desired role was randomized. Success! No other summoner had taken my role. The four other summoners typed out the remaining roles. This was making to be a good game already. As I started raptly at the screen my mental cogs were turning on what character I wanted to play. And at that moment is was like a rainbow of mental prowess shot from the window into my brain. I knew who I wanted to play. Twitch, the sewer rat. Although he was an enigma of a character to play I was ready for the challenge. Having just watched the largest tournament where teams from around the world compete I knew I could mimic the pros. It was simple, play safe and then become an assassin in the late game. Yes, the choice was set in stars, I would play Twitch.
I quickly locked in and the game was only seconds from starting. Another smile lit up my face. Its only Friday, this is going to be one awesome game of many this weekend. As my thoughts ended the game commenced. The first fifteen minutes of the game went smoothly, no kills being given to the enemy team or my team. As the in-game clock ticked sixteen minutes the announcer’s voice rang out “First blood!” As I ran away I did a quick fist pump into the air. It was I who abused my enemy’s mistake and capitalized on it. My movement during that moment mirrored that of the pros. With this kill I was miles ahead of the enemy team. My face cracked a large grin, this was making to be a great game. “Oh man we are gonna win, this is the one win I need for just ten more ranks and I can finally level up!” Another minute passed and the announcer sung out another song of death “An enemy has been slain!” I smiled even wider. “Whelp, sorry enemy team, but looks like we know who is going to take this one.” The game continued on for another twenty minutes my team skillfully grabbing at the least one kill every minute.
Thirty minutes and twenty seconds it was time for the final battle. Clearly the advantage was on my team’s side with the large early advantage we had.  And then, it happened. “ACE!” shouted the announcer. I had no idea how it all happened. We were in perfect position.  Why was my team not protecting me? I was so ahead. A clean wipe of our team from the enemy team. We didn’t even manage to kill one of their players. My large smile was quickly slapped off my face by the enemy. “fifty-second respawn, are you fucking kidding me?” I said out loud. The game was over. The enemy team quickly pushed into our base and won the game. A small animation played and then defeat.
 After clicking continue the game prompted me telling me that I have been demoted a whole thirty five ranks. I removed my headphones and got up from my chair. “thirty five minutes of my life completely gone. Wasted. Gone forever. And on top of that now I am a whole thirty five ranks.” I covered my face in my hands muffling my voice. “Ugh it took me a whole two weeks to get those and now I have lost them all due to some trash team?” I sat down on my bed looking at the ceiling. God, why does I always get these trash teammates. A quick punch to my bed and I sat there in silence. Another twenty minutes passed and I still had not moved. When suddenly a small bird of an idea smashed onto the window that was my mind. I started giggling. “Did I really just do that? Did I really just yell out loud and blame my team over one game? Really? I let a group of pixels almost ruin my day?” The laughter intensified. “I mean, that was seriously about to ruin my entire weekend. One game.”The sheer thought of how ridiculous I must have sounded was hilarious. I quickly bounced out of my bed and walked to my computer. I put my headphones back on and queued up for a rank game. “Lets go just one more.” I said as I smiled. Whether I won or lost that game or the next one hundred games it didn’t matter now. For I had the ultimate weapon on my side: A new mental shield between my emotions and games.