Editor’s note: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the writer and do not reflect Shoryuken as a whole.
A boy, no older than ten, is crying in the corner, clutching his Pikachu plush. He’s just been told that he’s not allowed to play in the tournament because he’s not old enough, despite the rules clearly stating that, since he was born in 2006, he’s eligible to play in the Senior Division. He’s not the only child who has arrived at registration, only to be told that they’re not welcome to play. In fact, one such child has traveled all the way from Lithuania. His mother later showed me the email she had from the Pokémon Company confirming that he would definitely be allowed to compete.
Welcome to the Pokkén Tournament UK Nationals.
A crying child is somewhat symptomatic of Pokkén Tournament’s first UK major event. Despite promising initial signs–pre-registration went up weeks in advance and the organizers seemed communicative and helpful–troubles plagued Nationals. Even the good initial impressions quickly faded when pre-registration disappeared into the ether and all communication dried up.
With the sudden change to on-site signups–and with only an hour scheduled to take signups for an expected turnout of hundreds–those who didn’t arrive early for registration ran the risk of being unable to compete, and those who had gone to the trouble or pre-registering were left in the dark as to whether or not they had to do so again. They did, and some almost found themselves ruled out from taking part because they arrived only shortly before registration closed at 9 AM. With only 44 players registered, the turnout was significantly lower than the 512 expected. Despite this, it was decided that the event would be held over two days, leading to some confusing situations in pools.
There were four double-elimination pools of 11 players, from which the top eight would qualify for the top 32 on Sunday. This bizarre decision meant that most players would only get one or two tournament games on Saturday and, in some cases, wouldn’t even have to win them to get into top 32. I know of two players who lost their only match on Saturday but still made it through into Sunday’s bracket.
Despite dozens of requests that the pools be played in a round robin fashion, event organisers were adamant that they would continue with the double-elimination brackets and, as we later found out, didn’t even let them play to completion for seeding purposes. In fact, there was no seeding whatsoever for Sunday’s Top 32, which saw multiple players who qualified in winners play against other winners’ qualifiers.
Games finally began on Saturday at around midday, hours after registration ended. In between there was almost no communication with the players apart from announcing a ban on friendlies. For over three hours, people who had travelled from all over the UK were left to sit and do nothing, with no explanation of why and without even the courtesy of being allowed to use one of the 40 empty setups.
The pools were also arranged in waves, despite having enough setups that every player could be playing a set and still leave space enough for friendlies–even a few friendly setups would be better than none at all. The first pool–which also constituted the first wave–started at midday and the fourth wave played their first games at 6 PM. That left, for no discernible reason, players who had been made to arrive at the venue before 9 AM waiting seven hours to play their first tournament games. For many, it was the only tournament game they played all day.
At around 1 PM, the organisers finally deigned to designate some friendly setups and allowed people to play on them. For the rest of the day they were mostly full, splitting numbers between participants of the tournament and those who just wanted to give the game a try while they waited for their wave of other trading card or video game tournaments.
By the time that the top 32 had been decided on Saturday evening, there was a distinct flavour of dissatisfaction and confusion in the air. It was becoming clear that the hosts had never held a Fighting Game event before, and even more clear that the focus wasn’t on making sure that the players had a great time. Time and again we were told that decisions were being made to improve the stream rather than the experience of the players themselves, and there was no shortage of angry or disappointed players as a result.
The story wasn’t much different on Sunday, though many of the players came into the day with much lower expectations. Once again the official statement was that play would begin at 9 AM on the dot, but upon arrival it was clear that wasn’t going to be the case. Games finally began shortly after ten–an improvement on the day before at least, but not what players had been promised.
About half of the first round of top 32 was to be played on stream, a process which involved playing the set itself followed by an interview with the winner. The interview, which wasn’t broadcast to the spectators in the venue itself, often took around ten minutes–great for the stream, but an unpleasant and frankly boring wait for those in attendance. The last matches of the first round were played nearly two hours after they were first called, and players weren’t allowed to leave the venue, meaning that they were forced to watch an empty screen occasionally punctuated by a set while waiting hours for their game.
This was only exacerbated by breaks taken in the stream, where the organizers decided to hold games that had already been called to take place on stream while they had some time off, leaving the players to sit and wait for their return. In several cases, this left players sitting at the stream setup with orders not to move or play the game for over half an hour. Imagine sitting across from your opponent, mentally ready and willing to play your game, but being told that you had to wait for no apparent reason.
In the venue, which had attracted spectators who wanted to get involved and enjoy the play, the mood was grim. Even when matches themselves were excellent or exciting–such as Wilksy15’s Perfect to finish his set against Plague–what little hype and buzz was generated swiftly drained away thanks to the lengthy waits between games. The excitement often attracted spectators from other halls who wanted to get involved with the small but loud audience, but during the lengthy delays they often drifted away to find something else that caught their attention. The only time this wasn’t the case was when the bracket was reset in grand finals and, for the first time all day, those watching were treated to two consecutive sets on screen. The response was fantastic, with cheers, applause and hype flavoring those two, superb, sets.
Amongst all the problems, the most disappointing aspect of the organisation was that it overshadowed the often fabulous play. Matches, especially matches in the top 8, swung on a single decision–choosing to use Suicune’s burst, only to see it beaten out by Pikachu Libre’s Synergy Burst, for example. In fact, it was so heartfelt that after the first game of the second set of grand finals, Tarrell “Afrokami” Black celebrated his tournament victory, not realizing that he had another game to win. In the end, he lost the next two matches and with them, the tournament. He didn’t let it slip easily however, fighting to the very last gasp against his opponent Angel Darksong
For a time, during grands, it was easy to forget all the problems with the weekend and just be absorbed in the excitement. Of course, it would have been nice if those finals were best of 5 but, despite the reassurances of Ryan “Prodigal Son” Hart that it was tournament standard, the Tournament Organizers decided against it. In the end, the winner of the tournament–Alex “Angel Darksong” Stopher–was decided in the final round of the last possible game in the set, after a bracket reset and with only a single point of health left. It was insanely tense, and the winner was basically knocked from his feet by his friends in excitement.
It’s all too clear that the game can stand on its own merits. What the weekend desperately needed was better organisation. A more experienced TO may well have looked at the low turnout and decided that it would be better to run round robin pools, just as they may have better organized the flow of matches on the stream setup to ensure that players weren’t left waiting hours to play. Instead, the players were left feeling like second class citizens while the focus was on the experience of the stream viewers, many of whom were equally let down by long breaks in play and at one point, interviews with the same player three times in a row.
The players should have been the focus. They came from all over the country to compete and, as the weekend came to a head, played some phenomenal sets. The fact that they were often the last to know what was going on and why was a disgrace, and one that has clearly turned many off from attending another such event. I personally spoke to several players who were new to fighting games and had been drawn into the scene by the Pokémon, not the fighting game style, who were all too happy to say that if this is what tournaments were like, they definitely wouldn’t be back to another one.
Oh, and that crying ten-year-old? He was allowed to play in the end. His parents insisted on talking to the legal team, who confirmed that there was no lower age limit on competing and that he was welcome to play. So was the young Lithuanian who had travelled so far. But on Sunday, there was another, different young man crying. Although he hadn’t had the chance to play all weekend, he had heard the calls for the senior finalists and rushed over, hoping to be allowed to take part. He was told that this event was only for the finalists from the main rounds on Saturday. In tears, he told them that yesterday, he had been told that he wasn’t allowed to play. In the end he left, struggling to hold back yet more tears. It’s hard to believe that he’ll try to enter a tournament again.
Worryingly, that may well be the legacy of the Pokkén Tournament UK Nationals. In time, the veteran fighting game players will probably forget this tournament. After all, everyone has been to some events that didn’t quite go as planned before, right? That young kid, though, will never forget being told that he wasn’t allowed to play–even though the situation was rectified in the end. Those Pokémon fans who loved Pokkén despite its genre, not because of it, will also likely never forget what their first tournament was like. This was the first opportunity for the Pokkén scene to really prove itself in the UK. I’m afraid we might have blown it.
