5. You Can Handle Losing
Responding to the intel produced by Zergling Recon Officer First Class Flesh-Noms, a scanner sweep reveals your opponent to have amassed a thirty-strong herd of Banelings. Quick as a flash, you counter with 2 gas and start pumping out Banshees to supplement your squads of Thors and Hellions. With the assault vehicles and armour bringing up the rear, you confidently set out in search of your foe, but before you can launch the air-to-ground assault on the Banelings, a swarm of Mutalisks flanks your forces (you've forgone researching Ion Cannons in your haste!) and swiftly takes out your air support, leaving the Banelings free to scuttle in and cut through your armour like hot acid through butter. As your last mech suffers the throes of its poignant Optimus Prime-esque death animation, and with the bats out of hell still blacking the sky, you snuff down your nose and tap gg before surrendering. Courageous to go all out prepping his lisks like that, you quietly muse. And my own damn fault for not getting map control!
Kudos. What the
hell? Youre not
stalking this guy right now? Youre not scouring his battle history for the past three years to find out just what
calibre of 'Crafter humbled you? You arent on
Facebook trying to find the perfect photograph to pin to your dartboard of dismay? Youre not demanding a
rematch, taunting him with every crude affront to masculinity in the book? How can you
rest knowing this guys gonna hit the hay tonight thinking hes better than you. Best two outta threethats the only way to keep your nards, son. WaitI beg your pardon? What was that? He was the better man on the day.
Whoa. I dont even ...
know you anymore. .