It ’ s a cold Friday evening . The October winds drift gently as the snow dances onto my sneakers . The change rustles in my pocket as I lean forward to look down the road . Along comes a blue bastion , with “ 70 MILL WOODS ” emblazoned in digital letters along the top of the bus . The driver opens the door , “ Hey bud , how are ya ?” “ Pretty good mate .” I pay my fare , and head to the back and take a seat . I look out the window , as downtown Edmonton continues on , people shopping , running , talking and heading to wherever they need to go . The bus takes a breath , and begins its circuit , snaking through stations , suburbia and shopping malls . I throw my earbuds in and listen to a couple songs , and bring the bus to a screeching halt as I ring for my stop last second , like any good commuter . I walk across the road , and head to the venue . People with TVs and boxes of cords are heading into the venue , being quick as to get out of the now chillier winds . I help setup some tables and chairs , while Wiis and Gamecubes get hooked up . I run upstairs and grab a spare GameCube controller , and head to an open table for some friendlies .
I test out the triggers and knock the analog sticks back and forth . Feels good . I sit down at an open table , and the announcer echoes out my selection : “ MARTH !” We dropped on opposite sides of Final Destination , and as the clock counted down , the venue around me blurred out of focus . I didn ’ t hear the players all around me . I didn ’ t feel the sweater on my shoulders . All I saw was a purple stage , my Marth , and Sheik .
The announcer counted down , And the clicking and clacking of our controllers began .
We dropped , and I instantly started to dash back and forth to force an approach from Sheik , and setup for a grab . I was met with careful spacing , and Sheik trying to find an opening to poke me out . I poised my fingers , waiting to strike like a snake in the grass . With one step too close , I leap and wavedash into Sheik for a clean grab into an up throw , into another up throw , into some aerials leaving me at an untouched 0 %, and Sheik sitting at 50 +%. I was in a good position , to say the least . But Sheik wasn ’ t willing to go down that easy . Or as they say in the Melee community , “ And now , he tries ..”
The neutral wars began , needles were shot , kicks were flying , grabs were landed and tippers were clutched . I may have had the opening salvo and took the first stock , but I didn ’ t have the game just yet . As the map ’ s visual effects shifted , so did our play , with changing from offense to defense , from opportunistic to reserved and from risky to passive . Stocks were exchanged , and as if scripted from start to finish , we faced off with each of our last stocks , with a slight percentage lead from me . And as if we had nothing left to lose , we both charged . The dance of the warriors began again , but it was as if the stakes were higher . I could feel my blood pumping as I went for any grab I could , tried to abuse any opening , and try to cover every mistake . Our percentages grew , but after a couple well-spaced aerials , I smelled blood in the water . One tipper from me could end it all . But I wasn ’ t the only one who caught the