Do You Hear It? The Sound of Getting Good

What’s up y’all? Been a while again. I haven’t been posting here nearly as much as I used to; since Weiss “happened” for me, it’s been harder and harder to find the time to write much of anything. Putting out regular reviews and sporadic thinkpieces was mostly to trick myself into keeping my conversational writing sharp, but now I’m usually focused on competition or other content creation. That’s not to say I don’t still value airing my thoughts out here, but in the future my posts are going to continue to be infrequent, substantial, and competitive-focused rather than bite-sized reviews. With that out of the way for the millionth time, let’s get into it.


The Start of a Long Path

For those of you unaware, I started playing Weiss Schwarz in August of 2018. It’s a trading card game distributed by Bushiroad that pits popular anime and game properties against one another. I won’t get into the specifics as that’s not my goal with this post, but it’s a game wholly different from other well-known TCGs like Magic or Hearthstone. Through a combination of love for the game itself and the community being a welcome departure from my time in Smash, I fell for it hard, quickly finding myself playing in locals three to four times a week, building deck after deck. While this isn’t exactly an atypical pattern for me at this point, with Weiss it reached an apex never before seen, truly fiending for my next chance to play.



By November of 2019, I was the North American National Champion for JP Weiss Schwarz.


How in the everliving fuck was I able to get to that point in just 15 months? I didn’t have any experience with Weiss beforehand, let alone any with paper trading card games. I had briefly played Hearthstone at a semi-competitive level in college, hitting legend a few times and playing in a couple more directed tournaments, as well as a couple MtG drafts. To give an even better idea of just how green I was, when I showed up to my first Weiss event, I didn’t even know how to riffle shuffle. Or rather, I physically could not riffle shuffle. I had to practice shuffling before I could even start practicing the game. Look, I typically don’t like “bragging” like this or broadcasting achievement. Appeal to authority is something I don’t really care for, but I find it necessary to highlight how far I’ve come in a short amount of time before I start being incredibly blunt. 


The rest of this post is not going to be “nice”; it will likely piss off a large number of its readers. That’s fine, because that means that it’s working. Dancing around the point and trying to make things sound prettier than they are won’t help anyone. Everything here is a product of my personal experience and observations, and although I will attempt to keep this as generalized as possible, I might lean into Weiss or Smash as I go as they are my primary experience. However, you should be able to extrapolate this “advice” to any competitive game, video, card, sport, or otherwise.


Today’s topic is competitive improvement, and how most people fucking suck at it.



#1: Stop Making Excuses



The first step to becoming better at anything is to ask yourself if you actually want to improve. Ask yourself the following questions:

  • Am I ready to give up other things to focus on this?

  • Am I able to use my free resources expressly in the interest of getting better?

  • Are you prepared to think about this thing in all of your free time?

  • Are you willing to make this thing a major part of your life?


If the answer to any of these questions is a firm “no”, you can simply stop reading here. These are the baseline prerequisites to your journey in competition. While these might sound like harsh requirements to start with, are they really that harsh? These questions are meant to probe how much you truly care about what you’re doing, and if you aren’t ready to say yes to all of them, then you aren’t ready to start hiking the trail. “Whole hog” in my experience is the only way to go in things like this, as the more time and effort you exhaust in practice or theory of anything will lead to dramatically faster improvement. This is not a suggestion or a philosophy, this is a fact. Throwing yourself at something fully is an easy way to never falter in your efforts, quickening your progress by an exponentially increasing factor. These four questions can actually be abstracted into just one: “Do you really want it?” That answer, at the very minimum, must be an enthusiastic yes. Anything else is simply an excuse.


After you’ve started dedicating yourself, stop blaming anything other than you for your performance. Take responsibility, and don’t deflect your shortcomings onto “easy outs”, whatever those might be in the game you chose. A good example here might be blaming a loss on what you think is a bad matchup in a fighting game. There were undoubtedly many things you could have done better, from your midgame decisions to selecting a different character that might have had a more favorable matchup. Furthermore, don’t pick and choose what you will and won’t take responsibility for. A player who “mains” Ryu and chocks up their repeated losses to Rashid as simply a matchup they are not favored to win is making an excuse instead of taking the initiative to adapt in some way. Players that commonly make these types of excuses only acknowledge their in-game actions, but not for their choices in character. From before a single swing is thrown, you must put all the blame for your performance on yourself and your choices, or fall to the ways of the scrub.


All this being said, don’t misconstrue dedication for obsession. Striving to be a paragon that never makes an excuse is not a free pass to make damaging lifestyle choices. Ensure that your journey towards improvement is a healthy one, not making “cuts” into areas of your life that are, believe it or not, more important than being good at some game. A short list of these would be your physical and mental health, your relationship with your significant other, family, and friends, and your career or studies. Letting these fall by the wayside is a signifier that your dedication has warped into obsession, which although might bring strong short-term results will lead to damaging feedback loops just as quickly.



#2: Stop Focusing on the Win


I’ve been using the word “journey” a good bit so far. Improving your skill is not something you simply “complete”; it’s a long process that has lasting implications upon how you must conduct yourself along the way. I know this sounds corny as all fuck, but it’s all about the trip itself, not the destination. A big part of putting yourself on the right path is to stop competing for explicit victory. Keeping with our travel analogy, your wins and results can be seen as the final destination of your efforts in improving; they are the byproduct of your improvement rather than the goal. If you only care about the place you are getting to, you are going to miss the forest for the trees, and you’ll likewise discount valuable experiences you’ve had throughout your time in competition if you only care about the win itself.


Treat all of your endeavours in competition as a learning experience. Another contrived statement, but you learn a hell of a lot more from losing than winning. By playing to learn, you cultivate a strong, positive mindset, prioritizing the gathering of worthwhile competitive experiences rather than results. Depending on the game you’re trying to get better at, this might be more obvious to you earlier on than in others. TCGs, poker, or anything with inherent variance will chew up and spit out any player that believes that they should win every game quickly, but the benefits of a mindset focused primarily on learning translate to any competitive activity. “Being wrong” is one of the best things that can happen to you as a competitor; rewalking your less-than-stellar performances is one of the easiest ways for you to figure out what kind of targeted practice you need for training. I will talk about damaging feedback loops throughout this post, but this is an example of a good, if not the best, one you can be trapped in.


However, do not confuse playing to learn with failing to try. You should always be trying to win, as that’s the point of competing in any game. Sandbagging or otherwise playing complacently is de-facto not playing to learn. Learn to separate the ideas of playing to win and wanting only to win. Always give your best effort while also detaching yourself from individual results. I know this sounds intensely difficult, insisting you walk a tightrope of cognitive dissonance that can be hard to master, but a strong player mentality is a necessity at every level of any game. A good mental is arguably more important than your actual skill, so be sure to cultivate one. If you only care about the win itself, you don’t really care about what you’re doing.



#3: Stop Being a Scrub


This is going to be the longest, and probably the most important part of this post. I’ll start off with the obligatory plug to Sirlin. I really don’t even like this guy, but broken clocks, twice a day and whatnot. His definition is harsh, but true: a “scrub” is a player who has “lost the game even before deciding which game to play”, “bound up by an intricate construct of fictitious rules that prevents (them) from ever truly competing.” While I don’t recommend reading all of Sirlin, give that article a quick skim, as I’ll be referencing it as I break down just how damaging this bottomless dark hole of negative thought can destroy a player. “Scrub mentality” is the most pervasive, cancerous, and unfortunately socially acceptable feedback loop that you can fall into, so you must do your best to avoid it at all costs.

The scrub first and foremost reacts to everything emotionally rather than objectively. This is undoubtedly one of the hardest things for newer players to overcome, so it makes sense that a large number of would-be competitors fall into this. The hard truth is that things in games that “feel bad” or are “bully” are rarely ever truly unfair. View every interaction between you, your opponents, and the specific thing you are doing objectively. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. By staying calm and objective, you can more quickly adapt and overcome these strategies rather than whine about them. Don’t confuse this point for disallowing you from being emotional; with the amount of dedication you have at this point for your chosen game, you will likely be highly emotionally charged throughout your journey, but you must try to never direct your emotion towards in-game strategies, options, or your opponents. A good tip is to remember that these strategies are also available to you; you are as free to utilize them as your opponent.


Speaking of whiners, the scrub is an incessant one. A realization the scrub never comes to is that they themselves have little to no agency over decisions made about the game by the developers of it. Strategies and options within the game simply exist, and you must use, deal with, and answer them. If you are playing a game, there are rules you must follow. No matter how much you might complain, you can’t directly change your banlist. You might perceive a strategy as lame, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t an option. The only choice the player really has in these situations is to either participate or not, and “not participating” is quitting, and people who want to improve do not quit. You need to react and deal with it. Note that nowhere I am saying that you are not allowed to complain; those who know me know I complain more often and loudly than most, but I never allow it to influence my decisions or mentality. You can complain ten ways to Sunday about something, so long as you are constantly putting in effort to overcome it rather than throwing up your hands and giving up.


Contrary to what the scrubs might tell you, a lot of their whining does not arise from actual game balancing issues or truly “broken” options, but rather an interpretive definition of skill. “Cheap” shouldn’t be a word in your vocabulary. If there is one thing that Sirlin ever wrote that you should read, it’s this, as he puts it better than I ever could:


“The first step in becoming a top player is the realization that playing to win means doing whatever most increases your chances of winning. That is true by definition of playing to win. The game knows no rules of “honor” or of “cheapness.” The game only knows winning and losing.” - Sirlin, Introducing...the Scrub


By introducing a personalized definition of what kind of play is “skillful”, the scrub can easily attempt to explain away the actions and results of players undoubtedly better than themself. They will discount everything from specific options to even core game mechanics as reasons for their lack of results or skill, shifting the blame towards other players or even the game itself. It is a way for the scrub to constantly manufacture a stream of neverending excuses, locking both themself from improvement and trying to harm the possible improvement of others. This is the most dangerous part about the scrub: their toxicity is contagious. Entire local communities of players are regularly infected with heavy cases of scrub mentality, so you must remain vigilant and dismissive of such mentalities in order to stay on your path towards improvement. Easy ways to respond to these kinds of comments are:

  • Stop calling that character “lame”. If they’re really that good, you should be using them.

  • Stop calling that deck “broken”. If it’s really that strong, why aren’t you playing it?

  • Stop calling that player “dishonourable”. If you were really better than them, you would be holding the trophy.


A similar and even more common occurrence among scrubs is the practice of putting perceived “low tier” options on a pedestal. There are many times throughout the history of every competitive game where an option that was thought of as “bad” or lower strength has achieved results. Good examples of this would be any top player piloting a rogue deck to victory in a TCG, or a low-tier main in a fighting game having a breakout performance at a tournament. Truly good players are employing these thought-of low tier strategies because they believe and have proven it to be a bona-fide good option that either plays to their personal strengths the best, or is actually not as low tier as the community might believe. This is much more common in games like TCGs or fighting games, where the amount of personal expression is much higher than others, but it can occur anywhere. Some good examples of cases like this are the following:

  • In Super Smash Brothers Melee, top 10 player Axe plays Pikachu not because Pikachu is a high tier character, but because Axe as a player can leverage his ability vs. other top players and characters best with Pikachu. Amsa, a breakout Yoshi player from Japan, plays his character of choice for the same reason.

  • A good player in a TCG may be piloting a rogue deck to the top tables in a large event, not because they perceive themselves as “more honourable” for not playing a known meta deck, but because they believe to have found an answer to the meta, overcoming the entire community perception of what truly is “top tier” with their chosen option.


This is, of course, not an issue in any game, and if anything highlights the health of both the gameplay and the metagame. However, the scrub projects their perception of “honor” onto these players, interpreting the top player’s choice as supporting their belief that the “top tier” is somehow lame or unfair, and that they are “sticking it to the man” in some way by not utilizing what the community already interprets as strong. This is a wholefully incorrect and emotional reaction by the scrub that locks themself into an endless cycle of bad mentality. Strong strategies are objectively powerful, and if you find such an option, you should utilize it regardless of any sort of community perception, whether it be positive or negative. 



#4: Stop Wasting Your Own Time


Time is your most valuable resource as a competitor. You use it to practice, compete, and think about the game in every waking free moment you have. Unless you are unlucky enough to be trying to improve in a game that is brand new, with no form of existing community around it, you will have respected peers that have been around longer than you. Absorbing their teachings as a way to fast-track experience is one of the best things you can do, both in the interest of saving you time and eventually allowing you to eclipse even their heights. However, not everything top players say will resonate with you personally. Everyone’s journey is unique to them, and sometimes your peers’ advice isn’t apt to yours. Instead of just dismissing that advice as unhelpful, try to walk in their shoes for a bit, rewalking their path to understand why that may or may not have helped them, and why it may or may not have been helping you. This allows you to avoid the pitfalls your elders might have already fallen for, or at the very least, lessens their blow.


Learn to realize when you are stuck in a worthless or negative feedback loop. If your current routine has left your progress stagnant, make a change. Major or minor is fine, just anything to break yourself out of that loop. It can be a physical change, or even a mental one. The goal is to overcome that stagnation, as a plateau can frustrate even the most resilient of players into turning back on their path. A good tactic for avoiding this type of pitfall is to regularly contextualize your improvement locally versus globally. Your experiences in your local group of players is likely different to that of the community at large. Seek globalized resources in these times rather than continually relying on local ones. With the rate you are likely to improve, you will exhaust your local resources very quickly, so seek opponents, rivals, and discussions outside of your comfort zone. After diving into the global space for a while, apply strategies you’ve learned back in your local group. Compare and contrast their effectiveness, making note of possible regional biases so that you can adapt to any environment.


Keeping an open mind can also save you a lot of time, but don’t listen to everything. It’s important as a member of the community (and hopefully later a top player) to stay receptive and accepting of opinions from anyone and anywhere, but learn to tell the difference between an informed opinion and hot air. Dismissive as it may be, keep a mental note of peers that present helpful and meaningful discussion, and ignore those who don’t. Most importantly, be mindful of discourse that comes from “salt” and scrub mentality. Make mental and physical efforts to remove yourself from this kind of discussion as best as you can. Discussing things with such players for extended amounts of time can have a “secondhand smoking” effect, tanking your mental faster than you’d ever think possible. Avoid groups of scrubs like the plague, or you’ll find yourself set back months or possibly years, very quickly.



#5: Stop Inflating Your Expectations


Although you’ve probably already figured this out, the journey towards improvement is going to a long and hard one. Even when you think you’ve reached the top, you’re actually just getting started. This is yet another cheesy platitude, but it’s one I’ve found to be more true than any of the rest. Sometimes realizing this can lock you on a plateau, but an easy way to stay on the path is to keep your expectations to a reasonable low. The most important way to do this is to never expect improving without challenge. Nothing worth doing has ever been easy, and this isn’t an exception. This is usually never going to get to the point where competing and practicing won’t be enjoyable, but be prepared to do real work in order to achieve your goals. There will be late nights, frustration, and probably a bit of heartache along the way, but remind yourself of one of your founding principles: you want this, so you’re going to have to work to take it. Along that line, don’t expect improvement without sacrifice. Like I said at the beginning, you’re going to have to give some things up to pursue this. That’s OK; so long as it’s not damaging or causing you to dip into obsession, you need to be comfortable making those cuts. 


If you’re someone lucky enough to have innate talent at the game you chose to get better at, don’t expect that talent to carry you. Everyone has things they are innately stronger or weaker at than others, but neither one is an excuse not to work hard. Similarly, a lack of innate talent at something isn’t an excuse not to try, nor is being discouraged by someone else’s talent. Again, everyone has their own personal journey, and everyone will progress on that path differently. The most important part is starting the hike. But even then, when you do reach a peak on your trail, don’t expect to be successful again just because you were before. The grind never stops, and being recognized or winning once doesn’t absolve you from continuing to work. Never become complacent, no matter your level of achieved skill. There is always someone better than you, therefore there is always something you can be improving in.


Lastly, and maybe most unfortunately, don’t expect anyone to congratulate or respect you. You will always have a group of haters no matter how good you are at anything. In fact, the smaller or more niche the skill, the more likely it is that you’ll have more haters than supporters. God forbid you improve faster than others, which will garner you additional salt and jealousy, but that’s fine. You have to have a duck’s back to continue improving; let that salty water roll off and keep on improving in the thing you love. Cliche as it sounds, “fuck the haters” is sound advice; kindly instruct them to stay mad and stay bad, which is one of the only acceptable times to lean into your position. It’s not all doom and gloom though, as you will undoubtedly find supporters and friendships along your trail, maybe even stronger ones than you’ve ever had outside of your efforts in competition. 



The End of the Trail


I originally wanted to write something that was more focused on my specific experience with Weiss, but as I thought about and drafted this post, I reformed it to be a bit more generalized so that anyone could use it. These are all things I’ve learned after throwing myself at competition for a long time now, throughout multiple activities and games, and after either moving on or retiring from one or another for a multitude of reasons, leveraged them all in Weiss to a great level of success. I hope this post helps some competitor get over their own hill on their path, bust through that plateau, or maybe even just get started. I know the language is a bit more blunt and argumentative than I typically go for on this blog, but after falling to many of these same pitfalls myself, watching others fall, and pulling both myself and those people out of them, I felt that it had to be said, and it had to be said directly. If this one pissed you off, I’m not going to apologize, but I hope that fire translates into your own further improvement, no matter what the area. I’m aware it’s a little preachy, but I wanted to use this platform I have while I could to say something I thought was meaningful, helpful, and was a culmination of all my experiences, both good and bad.


And with that, I’m out. I have my own rocky path to get back to hiking. See y’all next time. 😉