The Tale of Torrez

Posted by: MarkDolven

Written by Mike Luxion of LanDodger.com

Can you do the Jaguar?

Chances are the answer is “no”. But it’s not too hard, and it’s significantly less annoying than the Macarena, so here’s some instructional help.

First, go to a major LAN. Bigger is better. When it’s your turn to play, approach your chair and rotate it just right, so it looks like a forward slash with the right side closer to the table. Sit on the corner closest to the computer, with your left leg in front of your body, and right leg curled behind, like you’re ready to pounce. And, most importantly, when it’s a pressure situation and your team needs to win the round, instinctively raise your body until you’re hovering just above the chair.

That’s the Jaguar.

And if Mark “Masternook” Torrez looks comfortable in that position, there’s a good reason: he’s been doing it for seven years.

In The Beginning …

In some ways, his story isn’t much different than the rest of the competitive gaming community. Guy grows up playing video games with his group of friends. One day he goes over to a buddy’s house, same as always. Friend is playing a new game called Counter-Strike Beta 1. Both are immediately addicted. The story is such a cliché that it seems like the creator of Counter-Strike had a million friends, and they all came over to his house, one after the other, for an introduction.

Of course, clichés are often true, and that’s the case here. Mark played Duke Nukem and Doom 2 with his friends until Counter-Strike came along. When a beautiful game like that shows up in a person’s life, it’s hard to stay with your old standbys. He was hooked, sometimes practicing and playing over six hours a day.

Counter-Strike, besides being revolutionary in terms of style, also provided Mark with a completely new experience: the competitive gaming community.

“My friends that I played Beta with, Beta 1, they were really into competitive CS, and they were in one of the better clans back then, “ Mark said, “After a while I started playing with them, my friend got me in the clan, and it pretty much went on from there.”

“Pretty much went on from there” is an over-simplification, considering where he’s been. When we look down the road far enough, top-3 CPL finishes, CAL-I titles, GotFrag All-Star games, a litany of first-place finishes at smaller LANs, and a guaranteed salary with the CGS are just some of the things included in that small, innocent phrase. Of course, none of that should be too surprising. When you combine natural talent with an insatiable competitive streak, and add at least six hours a day of practice, it doesn’t take long to move up in your chosen profession.

Then again, nobody starts out on top. The only thing formulaic about getting noticed in the community and earning the respect of your peers is that it takes time. That means, like most gamers, for every clan that got some recognition he played on two or three that never made it. How many people can remember what KoCP, CoH, TDK, UNO, $iK, NGK, CBK or HTA stand for? Masternook should; he played on all of them.


TDK's first match in RITD league against returning champions CK3 - They were predicted to lose 30-0

Mark's Last Match With TDK Against The Legendary UGP
Those teams never cracked a top-10 list and never had strategies named in their honor, but it wasn’t wasted time. Everybody has to learn somewhere, even the people that eventually become stars. Tiger Woods and Michael Jordan toiled away in obscurity for a while – they just did it so early that most people didn’t notice. For Mark, the LAN and online experience he gained couldn’t help but prepare him for the future – one with bright lights, guaranteed salaries, and major LAN accomplishments.

The Rise ...

The first payoff from all the practice came while he played for a clan called Ascension. He was a driving force behind the team as they won the CAL-M Pacific Championship, finishing with a final record of 18-1.

Today, winning CAL-Main doesn’t even get you a token headline on GotFrag. It might earn you a post on the forums, if you’re popular, or if people are convinced you cheat. But back then, CAL-Main was arguably the second best place for online competition and the last step before Invite. After an 18-1 Championship Season, it was a short step, and one that got you recognized in the community and among professional players.


United 5 Accused a* of Cheating and Would Never Scrim Again
Recognition wasn’t the only important effect, though. Every athlete, electronic or otherwise, has a question that demands an answer: “How good am I?” Some people are supremely confident in their skills, but nobody really knows the answer until they push the limits of their talent to see how far they can go – to figure out if they can hang with the big dogs. Finding out requires playing against the best. For some people that means playing against Duke in NCAA basketball, or USC in football. For Masternook, it was finally being able to play against teams like 3D, Rival, and Weekend Warriors.

How’d it go, you ask?

“We just made it into CAL-I, our first season of Invite, and we were playing the former champions, Team Rival, and we beat them our first match in CAL-I. I was like ‘Damn, we’re pretty good,’” said Mark, chuckling as he quoted himself.

They even made the playoffs in their inaugural season, beating aoX in the first round. That earned them the privilege of playing Team 3D, the undisputed dominant team of the era.

Unfortunately for Ascension, they came up just short, losing 13-11. Despite that, it was a turning point of sorts. “We made it to the finals, or the playoffs, and we played Team3D, and I did pretty good versus them. I was like, ‘Damn I’m pretty good at this game’”, Mark said, again laughing slightly as he quoted himself. “If I could hang with 3D, I could hang with anyone pretty much.”

That probably sounds like the Mark Torrez most gamers are familiar with: confident, arrogant, and not afraid to say so. “I don’t really know where I started with [trash talking],” said Mark. “When I started coming up in the community I didn’t really talk that much. And then like when I started in ascension, every known team every big name team would be like, ‘Oh, you guys blow’, ‘You guys straight-up cheat’, so it started from there almost. And then I took it like now that I’m the top level guy, I’m talking [trash] to the guys that were talking [trash] to me.”

It’s easy to believe. If there’s one thing the competitive community resists, it’s new teams coming up and beating the old favorites. It’s the sad reality of our community that success breeds doubt and contempt, and as much as the community wants to believe the top players are true professionals in every sense of the word, we know it’s not always true. Not everybody is friendly and open, and even if they have respect for players outside of the game, that doesn’t mean they talk any less in the game. It’s no different than Gary Payton or a hundred other professional athletes.

“It’s more of a competitive thing,” Mark said. “Outside of the game, I don’t talk [trash]. When it’s game time, I want to be the best, and I want everybody to know it, pretty much.”

On Top …

Part of the problem was he had so much to talk about. Ascension did well for themselves as a team, but when he joined Rival, it took him beyond local recognition. The team, and Masternook, became household names in the international community.

It was his second tour of duty with the team after a brief stint during the Forsaken organization, and they’ve got more accomplishments than you can shake a virtual stick at. The headliner is undoubtedly the top-three finishes at three consecutive CPLs at a time when American CS was considered inferior to the European scene. They didn’t knock over weak teams, either, they were taking on legendary squads like 4Kings, NoA, and SK.swe, pushing them all to the edge. The most memorable match for Masternook, and a whole crowd of spectators, was a triple-OT loss to SK. When Rival entered the BYOC area after the match, they got a standing ovation from the American fans. You know you’ve played in a special match when the losing party gets a round of applause.

Rival was more than just accolades and accomplishments, though. The whole team had a different feel.

It’s weird to think about teams in terms of feelings and impressions, but every team in sports has one. The Yankees don’t feel the same as the Tampa Bay Rays, and the Knicks don’t feel the same as the Atlanta Hawks. It’s not just a money thing, though, or an issue with competitiveness. The Yankees of today have a completely different image than the Yankees of the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, despite both being top-level teams with high salaries. In essence, a team ends up taking on the personalities of its players. It’s the difference between Scott Brosius and Alex Rodriguez.

For Rival, listing their accomplishments is basically the antithesis of what they were. Records and facts are clinical. Rival was a run’n’gun, in-your-face team. Even the clan name is confrontational. Some teams (and players) are known for brilliant strategies that confuse opponents, making them indecisive or putting them into bad situations. Rival didn’t seem to bother with that. Why worry about confusing an opponent when you can just run around and kill them? It’s a lot of hassle for the same result.

“Yeah we did run’n’gun a lot. That was pretty much our style, especially at CPLs since the Europeans didn’t know our style. We would just go and run up, and they wouldn’t be expecting it really, and we just gave it to ‘em,” Mark explained. But don’t misunderstand, there was thinking involved, as well. You don’t reach the top by simply outshooting everybody. Even though they didn’t rely on strategies, it was certainly part of their offensive arsenal.

“We made a lot of like inventive stuff – like a lot of stacks and stuff are still to this day called Rivals Stacks, or do the Rival Strat. And on Inferno, especially, Rival stack in site, Rival boxes … Rival everything, pretty much.”

It’s certainly a testament to the effect they had on the community.

American CS has always been dominated by a couple teams. X3, 3D, coL, among others – they’ve all had their moments in the sun. Some of them had stiff competition, but for the most part, they were the undisputed Kings of the Hill. Rival, with Medias, ph33r, Hanes, exodus, and Masternook, was one of the few teams able to break that mold. They came together from less successful teams and made themselves into an American powerhouse, playing the role of both scrappy underdog and unexpected surprise.

Of course, that had repercussions on their sponsorship opportunities, as well. Rival reached an agreement with a new lead sponsor: Tylenol. At the time, it was hailed as a huge sign that eSports was becoming mainstream. A huge, non-gaming related company giving out a sponsorship? That was big news.

At that point, Masternook had his own little slice of heaven. Major sponsorship? Check. Potentially and historically dominating team? Check. Playing with good friends, and enjoying every minute of it? Yep, that too. Just about the only thing he lacked was a CPL title, but the back-to-back-to-back third place finishes are about as good of a consolation prize as one can get.

But, like most things in life, and especially eSports, it didn’t last.

The Fall From Grace …

Everybody knows the community can be immature at times, but how high is the cost? How many potential sponsors are dissuaded by the homophobia and sexism that plague eSports forums, or just the general unprofessionalism of teams and fans? It sounds like a ridiculous idea, in some ways. Would a multi-million (or even multi-billion) dollar corporation really be deterred by some forum trolls?

Apparently, the answer is yes. Tylenol discontinued their sponsorship of Ouch Gaming. Not because they were unhappy with the players, but because they found competitive gaming’s dark corners. There wasn’t enough Tylenol in the world to cure the headaches the community can cause.

“[Tylenol] thought it was going to be a more professional environment, you know. They went on GotFrag and stuff and would read just – kids just flaming and swearing. I think the worst part was when they went on IRC. They didn’t really know about IRC and they found out about it. Just a lot of swearing and stuff they don’t want to be involved with,” Mark explained.

It took less than three months for Tylenol to change their minds, and only eight months from the time of the original announcement for all the players to break up and go their separate ways. Rival’s run as one of the top North-American teams was officially over.

If parting with his friends and teammates wasn’t bad enough, there was also a more personal issue that needed attention. Mark had a severe underbite, and it needed corrective surgery or he risked permanent damage to his teeth and jaw. It wasn’t a tough decision, but it had major implications for him, personally, and his gaming career.

To fix his jaw, surgeons had to break it first. That meant anesthesia. Unfortunately, the procedure didn’t go as planned. When Mark woke up after the surgery, he couldn’t speak. Even a mumble through his newly wired-shut jaw was too much. They think an anesthesiologist hit a nerve for his voice box, but nobody knows for sure.

“They’re not exactly sure how it happened. I just woke up and I didn’t have a voice, and that’s pretty much all I know. And they don’t want to tell me any more about it. They just said ‘it’s not our fault’ and that’s pretty much it,” Mark said.

Despite the unknown circumstances behind the accident, the effect was obvious: no talking, despite the doctor’s insistence that he should be able to speak. For most people, losing your voice is a hindrance. It makes school more difficult (although you get a free pass on answering questions in class, at least). And every job involves communication to some degree, but gaming isn’t anywhere close to being normal. When your livelihood depends on quick, accurate communication, and one slip can cost your team $5,000, not having a voice is a total catastrophe.

To make matters worse, Mark was already committed to a team. He joined Pandemic before having the operation under the assumption that the surgery would be an inconvenience, at worst. He told Pandemic , “I could play for you guys but in three weeks I’m going to have a surgery and my jaw is going to be wired shut for about two months, and that could affect stuff, but it shouldn’t affect it too much.”

“It turned into something horrible, and I couldn’t talk for half a year.”

If that wasn’t enough, the players had a rocky relationship prior to his tenure with the team. “They didn’t really like me before I joined the team, cuz you know I was talking some trash, especially to that team,” Mark said.

“Especially Daffsta. I gave him a lot of shit for being online. I was definitely one of the main guys behind that.”

As for the surgery, it’s safe to say both parties were expecting a different outcome. To put that all in perspective, how confident would you be if you found yourself on a new team, unable to speak or do your job properly, and on top of all that, a month earlier none of the players even liked you? Estimate how many days would pass before you found a pink slip in your inbox.

Despite their less-than-perfect history and obvious complications within the team, the team had faith in Mark. They stuck together even when, predictably, Masternook didn’t play very well at some of the LANs they attended.

“I would go to LANs, and my voice would be really, really messed up, and I couldn’t really talk to people or communicate. And that really sucks. One of the CPLs I didn’t really want to be at. It was a [crappy] situation for me, and I played pretty bad. “

Part of the problem is mental. When you can’t make calls, certain positions and tactics are out of the question. It can throw off a whole team, and even worse, make the player tentative and uncomfortable. “[Not being able to talk] messed with my head a lot,” Mark said.

We all know how quickly good things can vanish, but thankfully bad spots can go away just as quickly. The team overlooked obvious grounds for removal and stuck together.

“After I got to know everyone, you know they’re all pretty good guys, and we got along pretty good,” said Mark. And they didn’t replace their non-speaking player, even when it had an obvious effect on their play.

Considering where the players for Pandemic ended up, I don’t think anybody regrets the decision.

Redemption …

The team never achieved the level of success that Rival did while they were under the Pandemic name, but it was an equally big part of Mark’s career for a different reason: maturity. When you go through a six-month ordeal, especially one that’s medical in nature, it gives you a very good reason to think. Throw in six months without being able to talk, and it gives you plenty of time to think, as well.

“The whole losing voice and surgery was pretty life changing. I don’t think it was one day I woke up and changed [it] was a gradual thing throughout the 6 months “

The trash-talking will always be there, just like it would be for any competitor. Phil Hellmuth will probably turn into a crotchety, cantankerous poker player, and it’s hard to imagine Michael Jordan quietly accepting a loss on the basketball court, no matter what the stakes. The competitive banter will always be there because it’s directly linked to the competitive spirit, and that’s something that doesn’t wane with age. But softness still creeps in around the edges. It comes with maturity.

Pandemic changed when the team made the switch to Source, and in some ways Mark’s career started over from the beginning. They made the switch later than most teams, and the community didn’t put much faith in their talent or their potential, just like the early days with Ascension. They surprised everybody by making it into the CGS as the Carolina Core’s Source team, despite some poor play. They went on to have a solid regular season, just like Mark’s time with Forsaken resulted in good, but not great, results. And then, at the World Finals, it was a full-on Rival revival, where Carolina went 4-0, and was by far the best component for the franchise.

It’s full circle for Masternook – from up-and-coming to dominant in 1.6, and then again in Source. This time, though, the benefits include a guaranteed $30,000 salary and a nice $13,500 check for finishing second in the CGS Season 1 World Finals. Seven years has brought plenty of change – and dollars, too. But mostly, the dream of becoming a professional gamer finally came true.


Although $150,000 Is A Lot Of Money, Second Is Not Good Enough For Mark Torrez
But being on top doesn’t mean slowing down. For now, he’s planning to “pretty much just relax for awhile then get back to practicing. I’m the kind of guy where second place is the first loser, I play to win and will keep practicing till I do.”

Or, in other words, if you need to find Mark “Masternook” Torrez this offseason, just look for the guy hovering above his chair, doing the Jaguar.