The QHHS Super Smash Bros: Ultimate Team

The QHHS Super Smash Bros: Ultimate Team

Picture by Brandon Kim

Every day in second period, an ASB member reads announcements over the intercoms. It is always the same: read the reports, pledge of allegiance, then get on with class. When the speaker announced tryout information for the esports team, my interest immediately piqued. 

Last year, the only options were League of Legends and Rocket League, neither of which I play. My childhood was simple: I could not play games with guns. So Nintendo was the go-to company.

My curiosity soared when I heard that Splatoon 2 was now an option. I planned to ask Mr. Fields for information after school. But when I arrived at room 105, tryouts for Super Smash Brothers: Ultimate were about to commence, so I stuck around.

It was like I struck gold. Players of all ages and skill levels came together to compete in a massive tournament, where only a select few would remain on the team. Enthusiasm lit up the room, and laughter filled the air. It was so much fun. 

I came unprepared. Olympia, who ran the event, lent me a controller. If not for that kind gesture, I likely would have left. I was able to make my way up the ranks. I played a mean Meta Knight, a surprisingly accurate Obama Mii, a broken Sephiroth, and a humble Mario. In the end, I lost my spot in the loser’s quarterfinals to a skillful Marth player.

Everyone in the room had a passion for the game, even the ones who sat and watched. Every corner had players either giving it their all in a match, talking with others about their mains, or expressing their opinions on King K. Rool. Conversations turned into friendships. But friendships were put on hold for precisely seven minutes during a match. During that time, it was all or nothing.

Part of what made the experience so enjoyable was the community. Everyone is familiar with Smash. Everyone loves Smash. Everyone, whether they won or lost, encouraged one another like they were best friends since kindergarten. Leaving the tournament, I felt good, not because of how I did in the bracket, but because everyone was having fun. It rubbed off on me.

That passion inspired this article. Every player in that room gave it their all, regardless of how well they played. That passion spread like wildfire. This article is a celebration of that beautiful little community of passionate players.