Thorin: “In esports, it’s almost as if we’re ashamed of the analytics studio.”

You might think it’s a bit of an exaggeration to say “save the analytics studio” rather than, you know, “change the analytics studio.” How can we improve the analysis studio? But actually, one of the reasons I want to frame this video this way is that, when talking to top talent and people who work behind the scenes at tournament organizers—for example, during broadcasts, I’ve actually heard rumors that many tournament operators don’t particularly value the analytics studio. One person who worked at a major tournament operator even told me that he doesn’t rule out a scenario in which, one day, analytics studios will be phased out entirely or tournaments will be held where they’re practically nonexistent.

Many hosts will tell you that the producer is the bottleneck of a broadcast, because ultimately, as a host, you quickly realize: if you don’t align with what the producer wants and he doesn’t like your work, then, even though they often aren’t the ones who directly decide whether to hire you, they can still have a very strong influence on whether you’ll be chosen in the future or invited less often—and instead, they’ll bring in someone else who better fits the vision they have for their broadcast. Because, after all, the producer is, to a certain extent, responsible for the broadcast. He’s at the helm of this process. One of the problems, it seems to me, is that hosts sometimes become hostages to these producers.

I won’t say exactly who I’m referring to, but it seems to me there are several very good hosts who, as I’ve heard behind the scenes, essentially just want to please the producer. That’s why they do a lot of things on air: they stick to a certain tone, a certain style, a certain order, and sometimes sacrifice spontaneity—mainly because they want to do things the way the producer wants. 

Because of this excessive control, the magic of a truly good analytics studio is lost: the ability to react to something, to respond to someone’s words, to hear a comment that sparks a new thought, which you can immediately add to the conversation, the ability to engage in a lively dialogue, to do all sorts of things, to seize the moment when, for example, the crowd shouts something, and you can respond right away or turn it into a joke. 

The idea that fans want to watch detailed game breakdowns is one of the most false, meaningless, and overrated notions in esports. It’s simply not true if you look at what kind of content becomes successful and what kind of content people actually engage with. People say they want tactical analysis videos, and I can tell you what they actually do. They leave a comment like: “This is great,” simply because they respect the person who made the video. Or they retweet it. Or they comment on it in some other way. And then they add the video to their “Watch Later” list or a YouTube playlist—and never open it again in their lives. Their playlists are overflowing with thousands of videos about esports, traditional sports, and everything else under the sun. There are lectures in there, and they don’t watch a single one of them. 

The very best analysts are either people who were fairly average professional players and whom you actually know specifically as analysts, having almost forgotten that they were ever pro players at all, or they’re people who, as former pros, have put in an insane number of hours creating content. That’s exactly what made them good analysts and honed their skills in this role—not their professional experience alone. After that, they became good at working in analysis studios. Good examples here are STYKO and Pimp.

One of the problems with former professional players is this: too many of them end up in analysis studios simply because they were once professionals. They don’t even create any content. When you invite someone like that, they don’t understand the technical details of the job, or even the basic rules and principles of what they’re doing. Even when they watched analysis shows themselves, they didn’t think about any of this. Their minds were simply switched off, or they were just waiting for you to start talking about their team so they could decide whether they agreed with you or not. They didn’t understand whether that segment was even well done.

In other sports, people understand that this is valuable. But in esports, it’s as if we’re ashamed of the analysis studio. We treat it as nothing more than a time-filler, and after the match, we act as if it never existed at all, instead showing you the VOD of the game—from the first round to the last. What is this all about? We’re completely missing the point.