games, but soon he was hosting small tournaments. By the time he graduated, the Casbah, Merchants, Boom Comics and the Lawrence Public Library had become venues for tournaments that players traveled to from all over Kansas and Missouri. More weekly tournaments are soon to come, Fukato says, run by people he trained before he left. Vincent Czerwinski, a sophomore at KU, is another tournament organizer in Lawrence. Like Fukato, he started by hosting games in his home. “Eventually I didn’t have enough room in my apartment for everyone anymore, but I didn’t want to kick anyone out,” Czerwinski says. He went on to start the weekly tournament at Merchants with the help of one of the bartenders, another Smash Bros. enthusiast. Through entry fees, most tournaments offer money to people who rank first, second and third. Players like Fraser, who wins nearly every tournament and makes around $300 per week, are able to financially support themselves with their earnings alone. Fraser quit his job and uses his free time to practice the game so he can continue winning money to pay his bills. But money isn’t what brings most people out to play—it’s the community, Czerwinski says. People bond over the game. “[The community] is the main reason I’m still playing Smash,” says Averil Morrisette, a player from Olathe who is ranked in the Top 20
worldwide of the Wii version of the game and travels nearly every weekend for tournaments. “You get to meet all of these players from around the country and around the world. Everyone becomes really good friends because of the video game that brought you together.” These friendships keep competition from becoming too aggressive — players often wish each other luck before games, congratulate each other on winning and give each other tips and tricks. Perhaps this friendliness also stems from the fact that Super Smash Bros. began as a family game people played with siblings and friends growing up. It’s this same nostalgia that keeps so many gamers playing and brings them into the competitive scene. “There’s not a kid in the ‘90s who didn’t have this game on Nintendo GameCube,” says Fraser, who was the best player at his daycare. He jokes that he went from being king of his daycare to becoming the king of Kansas as he worked his way to the number one GameCube player in the area. Fukato says the people in the community, especially locally, make a game with no real inherent social value a worthwhile investment. “I say ‘especially locally’ because I’ve traveled the country to play in events and every time I’m always reminded there’s no place like home,” Fukato says.
THE HILL styleonthehill.com
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