Tough Love and Debut Sweep
Our team's players returned to the waiting room for a short break after clinching victory in their debut set.
Having endured a tough game through the early and mid-stages, they were drenched in sweat and gasping for breath from the heavy energy drain.
Yet the team atmosphere wasn't exactly jubilant for a squad that had pulled off a massive comeback.
"Unnie, what was that? Why'd you say it like that?"
"What? You're the one who played like that! Do you even think before you act?"
"Me? It was because ganks kept coming and I died! If it'd been a fair 1v1..."
"Who'd give you a 1v1! Even I'd call a gank if the enemy mid played like you! Don't you know we almost lost because of you!?"
"So you're saying it was all my fault?"
"Did you play well?"
"Enough, both of you!"
I shouted as Seona and Yuna's argument escalated.
They flinched at my louder voice and paused their bickering, but they still glared daggers at each other.
I wedged myself between them for a moment, then had everyone sit down before giving individual feedback.
Unlike scrims, there wasn't much time for feedback, so I kept it short and to the point, just like the head coaches used to do.
"First, the mistakes. Hayoung. Is pro play that scary? Why'd you tunnel so hard? Eunjae handled all the jungle vision, so all you did was stack jungle camps.
Eunjae. If you're gonna roam, do it at timings they can't predict, or focus on leveling and watch the carry lane. You spent way too long just wandering.
Sera. I told you—if you see a teamfight angle you can win, join even if you're not fully online yet and at least dip your spoon in. If the carry had joined that mid teamfight, we'd have won it and you'd have scaled better."
After feedback for the three, I turned to the real troublemakers.
"Seona. I told you to always assume the enemy can outplay you. Don't give up gank angles so easily, and if you're trading, at least ward the river first. Sides pitch black and you're diving in on guts alone? That's why you keep dying. The enemy mid snowballs way too fast off you.
Look at this forward movement. Melee champ vs. ranged—you creep too far forward, eat autos, and leak HP. Even if you're good, can you win fights leaking like that? What if the enemy mid finishes early and picks us all off one by one?"
Seona wilted, head down, as I dissected every little movement.
"Yuna. In-game play was solid—no real complaints. But that attitude? We're teammates, right? Even if Seona messed up a ton, talking sweet one second and snapping the next from the start? That's picking a fight. You think yelling and cursing flips a switch in people? No.
Are your teammates your emotional trash can? I get being pissed when mistakes snowball, but you showed you could flip it with that initiate. With your skill, you should encourage and hype up a teammate who slips—even if you're not confident. Don't be the first to shatter morale. I did tell you not to shoot arrows at your own team."
Yuna's gaze drifted downward.
Time for the carrot after the stick.
"Still, you all did great. That's why we won. Hayoung—you always forget jungle stacks, but you nailed them this time. Sera scaled faster because of it.
Eunjae—solid leveling. Levels are king until super late. No reason for support to skip it, right? Cut the pointless roams, and you'll improve a ton.
Sera—great CS. Aim for 10 per minute now, and nail join timings. Ask Hayoung for calls if unsure."
Back to the troublemakers.
"Seona."
"...Yeah."
She looked deflated. Despite her tough front, Seona bruised easily.
"What's most important for a pro?"
"Physicals."
"No. Confidence."
"...?"
She looked baffled.
"Guys without confidence always choke on big stages. Chicken-breasts, we call 'em. They never make it pro. Tense up in big games, play at half strength, brain-freeze, stumble through clueless—and lose. Can't fix innate cowardice.
You're the opposite. Debut official match—nerve-wracking—and you didn't flinch in lane. Huge talent. No enemy support? You'd have crushed lane."
"Really...?"
Her face lit up noticeably.
Weak to praise, this one.
Not just service talk, either. Seona traded well even gold-behind until her fourth death.
"Yeah. Hold that confidence, but think: Solo kill, superplay to win? Awesome. Safe play to win? Does that dilute the victory?"
"No..."
"Not saying skip supers. Read situations. You knew after four deaths you couldn't 1v1 forever. Right?"
She bit her trembling lip and slowly shook her head.
"Superplay but team loses? Meaningless. Pro's only virtue: win. Hayoung and Eunjae pick boring weak supports for it. Yuna suffers gross sidelanes. All expecting you and Sera to scale and carry. Reckless dive for spotlight? Wastes their sacrifice."
"......"
"Yuna. Killer initiate. Tanked sidelane great. No hesitation diving when eyes met? Perfect—their angles crumbled. Sorry for comparing you to Choi Jaeyeon."
Yuna perked up, puffing a bit.
But no free pass for troublemaker number two.
"Think on this, though. 5v5 team game. Teamwork and synergy matter most. Reading what teammates want without words, playing to it. Short practice time means it's our weak spot. We need tight unity, hype vibes to compete. Not like solo queue.
Solo queue trolls? Step-in-shit, report, block, done.
Teammates? Faces daily, meals, games, showers, sleep. Snap and curse at them—team chemistry? Hate playing with enemies?"
"...No."
"Got it?"
"Yeah."
I scanned the five seated players.
"Girls."
"Yeah."
"Won, but not easy, right?"
"Yeah."
"Feel why live games differ from practice?"
"Kinda."
"No worries."
"...?"
They stared silently.
"You're not just pretty. Talented too. I picked you for that. Variables, short team practice, enemy experience—irrelevant.
Few months together, but your grind and intensity? No Academy League team matches. Plus solo queue rank 1 coaching."
Solo queue only. World-beater who swept season majors and TIC with global elites.
"Set 1 shakes? Rookie live nerves—expected. But we won anyway. More experience, stronger we get. I trust my eye."
I stroked Seona's hair—she sat closest.
"I believe in you girls."
"Players, prep for next game!"
Staff called. I patted Seona's shoulder.
"Next set—dominate! Win, and debut BBQ's on me!"
No excitement at meat bait.
They pondered, glanced at me, stood resolute.
"We're off."
Only captain Hayoung replied as they re-entered the stage.
Alone in the empty room, I reflected.
Even trash games, pathetic losses—coaches hyped us mid-game as best, greatest.
Player me seethed at bug-game losses, but they insisted we could do it.
Didn't get the lip service then. As coach now? Crystal.
Players know their fails best. Coach hammers 'why'—shatters morale, poisons next game.
Just scolded Seona and Yuna hard and sent 'em? They'd tank harder.
Self-aware fails + third-party confirmation kill? Brutal.
Thus, mid-game hype from old coaches—and me—was best.
Years pro, surprise second-life coach? Hit home.
— Incredible. Mid stabilized, supports' vision way wider now~! —
— So Shining Star! Crushing Set 2 flat? —
The casters' heated commentary buzzed.
Our team played Set 2 like Set 1 never happened—stable from the jump.
No brainless dives from Seona, wider vision from Hayoung, fewer aimless roams from Eunjae.
We took Set 2 easy, sweeping the debut 2-0.
Players returned sweat-soaked but beaming brighter than after Set 1.
"We won!"
They mobbed me in hugs, screaming. I stroked their heads, grinning wide.
Victory as player vs. coach? Different feel.
"Did amazing! Keep playing like Set 2!"
"Yeah!!!"
"Interviews done—home time."
I knew. We could aim higher.