So, another ranked split, huh? Split 2 rolled around, and just like always, I told myself, ‘This is it. This is the one where I actually climb.’ You know the drill. I had it all planned out: stick to just a couple of champions, dodge if I saw a Teemo support, basically play smart for once. Sounded like a foolproof plan, didn’t it?
Well, League of Legends has a special way of just spitting on your plans. It’s like, one moment you’re thinking, ‘Yeah, I’m on a roll, easy wins from here!’ and the very next game you’re 0/5 against some super-skilled player on Yasuo who seems to have more dashes than the game itself. It’s just a total rollercoaster, every single time. One day you feel like a pro, the next you’re pretty sure your dog could play better just by drooling on the keyboard. It’s just… a lot to handle sometimes.
My big idea for this split? I decided, in a moment of what I thought was genius, to completely switch roles. Yup, brilliant move. ‘It’ll be a fresh start,’ I thought. ‘A new, exciting challenge!’ What it actually turned into was a super quick way to experience new kinds of frustration. I went from being somewhat decent in my old role to feeling like a complete beginner, getting yelled at in chat by people using words I’d never even seen before. It was, let’s just say, a very humbling experience.
- Those first few games were pure chaos. I mean, I was missing pretty much every single ability.
- The next bunch of games were slightly less chaotic. Maybe I landed one or two shots. Hey, progress!
- Then the tilt set in. Oh man, the tilt. It’s a unique kind of awful when you know you’re playing terribly and you just can’t seem to snap out of it.
It’s kind of funny, actually. This whole split really made me think of this one time I tried to get into baking sourdough bread, back when everyone was doing it. You see all those perfect loaves online, right? Looks so simple: just flour, water, and some kind of magic. My first attempt? It was so hard, you could’ve used it to prop open a door. Or maybe as a weapon. My kitchen looked like a flour factory had exploded. I kept trying, tweaking things, watching countless videos, and getting more and more annoyed because it just wasn’t working out. My dough was either like soup or a solid brick. There was no happy medium.
That’s pretty much what this ranked split felt like. I was putting in all this effort, trying out different champions in my new role, watching pro players, reading guides. And for ages, it felt like I was just baking inedible bread. A whole lot of work for very little payoff. I’d win a game, then lose two. Climb up a tiny bit, then slide right back down. It was seriously draining.
There was this one week where I was just completely over it. I think I lost something like ten games straight. I actually thought about uninstalling – you know, the classic gamer rage-quit dream. I did end up taking a break for a few days. Went outside, got some fresh air, the whole ‘touch grass’ thing. And when I came back, it wasn’t like I magically became amazing. Nope. But I was definitely a bit less stressed about it all. More like, ‘Okay, let’s just try to have some decent games and not feed too hard.’ My sourdough attempts still weren’t award-winning, but at least they were starting to resemble actual bread, not something you could build a house with.
So, yeah, Split 2. It wasn’t the amazing climb to the top ranks that I sort of daydreamed about. It was messy, often super frustrating, and sometimes, just sometimes, surprisingly fun when things actually went right for a change, even if just for one game. It was a learning experience, mostly in how to be humble and patient, I suppose. Just like that stupid sourdough bread. Still not convinced I’ve got either of them figured out, to be honest. But hey, there’s always the next split, right? Or maybe I’ll just chill in ARAMs for a while. We’ll see.