Worlds in a Finnish Theater: League Finals, Community, and Döner Kebab

It’s November 2^nd, and I have a train to catch. After getting ready, I leave my cozy home (defiled by construction noises at the time) in Hervanta and make my way to the Tampere Railway Station. The two-hour ride passes by smoothly, and I am in Helsinki. I have a mission today. I’ve never missed the League of Legends World finals since season one, and I don’t intend to start now.

Unfortunately, I can’t go to the real thing because the tickets sell out in minutes, and it is in London— and there is no way I am paying for another visa this year. But I still want to experience the games surrounded by a crowd. There is something very exuberant about watching a sports game in a rowdy crowd. Although I must remind myself and you, dear reader, I am in Finland, and I do not think things will get rowdy unless there is a lot of alcohol involved. And I specifically remember alcohol was not allowed on the theater premises. But I digress. What I wanted to say all along was that a friend, Ben, and I bought tickets for Finnkino’s League of Legends World Finals watch party. I’ve never watched the finals in a movie theater, and I do not know what to expect. 2 years ago, I managed to buy some tickets from legal scalpers and went to the European finals in Malmö. Sitting in a huge crowd chanting the names of the teams while reacting to plays and seeing how players react to the fans and their own plays was an extraordinary experience. I do not have high hopes for today’s ordeal, but it is much better than watching it alone in my dorm room.

I am waiting for Ben near a 2-meter-tall Venom cutout inside the complex. He finally arrives, and we gain entrée to the giant snack hall. To be clear, the hall itself is giant, the snacks are not—although they are grand in their own way. I am really hungry, so I begrudgingly buy my overpriced bucket of butter popcorn and add some Coke to wash it down. I pay for my snacks, unlike others who shall remain nameless. We then follow the line that slowly makes its way inside the theatre. They give us free in-game goodies while we look for our seats, never would’ve expected it from Riot Games. The theatre is huge; it must seat at least 600 people, and it is already full. You can feel the excitement in the air, the unknown of “Who’s going to win, T1 or BLG?”  can be heard in hushed voices talking to each other. I look around and see heaps of different and diverse people. A lot of them are wearing Teemo hats, which have been the number one apparel in such events since the early years of the game. I was not expecting the event to be this huge. There are people sitting everywhere.

We wait for the game to start and make our predictions— we don’t even come close to the real results, but nobody has to know. The games start, and the crowd is ecstatic. The voices of the elated come and go in waves like a very concerning electrocardiogram musicalized—arrhythmic but loud. Gasps and cheers continue throughout the games as the teams fight for the first place. I think of the importance of such events. Sharing a common hobby and being able to experience things together as a community feels ritualistic. Some games feel better when you watch them instead of playing them. To me, League has been this way for quite a while. Being in a non-toxic community after experiencing great amounts of negativity in the game feels blissful almost.

We get blessed with a five-game series; we stay for the full five hours. After a terrific game, T1 emerges victorious and beats BLG 3-2. No one leaves until they raise the trophy up high. We learn later that one of the players, Zeus, hits himself in the head with the cup when doing so, but he is fine. We still don’t know if this concussion was what prompted him to leave T1 months later. We watch the interviews as well, and the crowd starts to disperse little by little. We also decide to leave.

While walking to the train station, we talk about the experience. None of us was expecting to have this much fun and for the event to be this crowded. This is my first time meeting a Finnish esports community, and I leave the event thinking about the greatness of the bunch. Again, I think of the importance of the event. It gives us everyday people a room to share and display our passion for the game we have been in a serious love-and-hate relationship for years. I feel exhausted but satisfied—the perfect state of mind and body to gobble down a Kebabrulle. And we do just that. The döner is okay, but I miss the one shop right next to the bus stop near my home. We talk more about the games and head to the train. I’m glad I found this event. I feel fine.

Photo taken by: Berk Dönmez

Featured image taken by: Adela Sznajder/Riot Games

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