Grass warfare
Rugby union and grassroots UK esports form an unlikely alliance
The esports machine of today is unrecognisable as the janky engine that powered the scene back in the ’00s. These days, maintained by Blizzard and Riot, its pistons fire with practised efficiency. Yet the rattling part of the contraption dedicated to player recruitment is in need of replacement. Like the claw crane of an arcade machine, it picks up too little from a pool brimming with potential. “There’s no clear path to pro right now,” Excel Esports director Kieran Holmes-Darby says. “If you play football, you can enter a Sunday League, get promoted, and theoretically make your way to the Premier League. In esports, there’s no clear link between grassroots tournaments and the pro tournaments.”
You might wonder why esports needs grassroots support at all. Where would-be footballers might struggle to bring their street skills to the pitch without facilities, only a PC and a headset is required to play League Of Legends. That’s the promise of esports: that what you do in your bedroom could one day be what you do on a stage, if only you can get good enough. Between the bedroom and the stage, though, lies a yawning chasm that can suck away all motivation.
The problem is more acute in some esports than others, Holmes-Darby suggests: while League Of Legends has a structure that seeps some way into the foundation of UK esports, Dota 2 does not. “There’s no way that someone can see that they and their team are progressively getting better,” Holmes-Darby says. “Generally, esports are team-based, which means you have to have really strong communication and leadership skills. Online is a start, because it gets you interested, but you don’t have that same level of understanding as when you’re actually sitting there next to someone.”
Then, of course, there’s the crowd – the aspect that most meaningfully differentiates tournament play from the bedroom. Local events can help players learn to ride that wave of attention to greater victories, rather than drowning in it. Excel is partnered with Belong, the esports arm of the brick-and-mortar retailer Game, which runs tournaments out of its stores. These events thrive on low pressure. Think of the hobbyist competition enjoyed by Warhammer players, showing up at Games Workshop at the weekend to throw their armies against each other. “It’s the quintessential grassroots esports community,” HolmesDarby says, “that comes together not necessarily wanting to go pro.”
We meet Holmes-Darby at the Yorkshire Games Festival, where he’s giving a talk at the behest of the British Esports Association – a body mandated by the government to strengthen esports infrastructure in the UK. His own interest is more partisan, however, since Excel has its own team in the League Of Legends European Championship. Holmes-Darby’s efforts to nurture local talent aren’t simply altruistic, then, but part of a long-term strategy to ensure Excel’s next generation of players comes from a flourishing scene.
“The UK is miles behind the likes of Denmark, Sweden and Germany in normalising pro gaming and providing paths for people to get involved in it,” Holmes-Darby says. “I think we’re pretty closed-off as a country and slow to react to trends.” That limited pool is reflected in the professional sphere: Raymond ‘kaSing’ Tsang is the only British player in Excel’s LEC team.
That’s why Twickenham is so important. A year ago, Excel relocated to the home of English rugby, setting up its offices and training rooms inside the stadium. The marriage benefits both parties: rugby union from a youth injection to an audience that was “male, pale and stale”, and Excel from the legitimacy implied by its new digs. “It validates the whole proposition,” Holmes-Darby says. “If Twickenham and the Rugby Football Union, which is the most old-school organisation in the world, can accept esports, then anyone can.”
The HQ at Twickenham is a clear rejection of the ‘gaming house’ system that has seen esports players isolated in the past – both from family and healthy routine. Twickenham’s pros come to work, and they go home again. Excel has access to the stadium’s gym, catering, and sports psychologists. It’s a responsible model for fans looking to mimic the team’s success. “Is it sustainable if your kid is playing 16 hours of videogames a day? No. Is it sustainable if they’re doing some exercise after school and then playing four hours of an evening? Yeah, absolutely fine,” Holmes-Darby says. “Parents need to understand this so they can manage it.”
Since the move, school and university students have been invited to the facilities for tours. The stadium makes a career in esports visible – something you can leave the house for, as opposed to a black hole that threatens to swallow a child through their monitor. “It helps us because we don’t want our brand to be demonised,” Holmes-Darby says. “There is obviously a personal motivation to do that. But I think the overarching thing is educating an age group that doesn’t understand, because they haven’t grown up with it.”
“The UK is miles behind the likes of Denmark, Sweden and Germany in normalising pro gaming”