As I walk through the door that afternoon, the smell of BO and musky men fills my nose with a tiny hint of Febreze buried underneath all the stink. Someone is spraying air freshener every 30 minutes or so, the true hero of the day.
Disregard the smell.
Rows of gaming monitors and Nintendo Switches are lined up, row after row after row. The sound of joysticks twiddling back and forth fills the room with sporadic clickity-clackity sounds. High-pitched screams and profound language can be heard in a somewhat small space.
The walls are painted a dark red and black. A Streetfighter machine located by the front entrance makes an electronic whirring sound. The kind of sound you would hear from any arcade game hoping to attract a person with $1. Many Smash games can be heard in the background, too many to pick a certain one out from the other.
With the citrus flavor of Mountain Dew Kickstart lingering on my tastebuds, I go to sit in the somewhat soft and cozy gaming chair, but as I sit I notice it feels warm, as though someone was sitting there for quite some time. My bottom warm and toasted, I feel utterly disgusted and change seats.
The turnout is great. A lot of new and experienced people showed up to play. Of course, you have your occasional cocky a-hole boasting about how good he is even though he doesn't realize that he doesn't even have a social life. Not unordinary at these types of tournaments People look like they are about to cry as they are beaten by their opponents and can't seem to grasp the simple concept of "it's just a game." Lots of cheering and boos and be heard as people watch their friends compete.
The tournament lasts until about 5 or 6 p.m., so that gives you an estimate on how competitive and serious some of these players are. Overall, if you keep going and focus on having fun, you get used to the smell, eventually.
