You know, I see these boys come into my shop after their LAN sessions, faces lit up from some clutch they pulled, ordering extra parathas because they’re too tired to cook. They talk about big sponsors and tournaments like the old men in the market talk about the once-in-a-century floods that were supposed to wash away all the small stalls. I’ve seen enough scams—from fertilizer to “revolutionizing” fish distributions—to know that hope without a proper tipping of the scales will just crush the ones already on the back foot. If your plan to revive the scene can’t afford a boy in a rented room a working mouse and a hot meal after a loss, it’s just another beautiful poster for the wall, nothing more.
#faceit
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