The following is an open letter to Jake “Stewie2k” Yip, reigning CS:GO major champion and member of MiBR.

Dear Stewie,

It’s been a wild year thus-far and there’s plenty still yet to be decided, including this very major. The year began with you being crowned a CS:GO major champion, taking North America and Cloud9 to the most elusive and coveted accomplishment in this game. Let’s talk about what that implies, though. There are two types of champion: winners for a day or two and legendary players. The former had their moment of glory, when everything lined up and they made the right moves to get a trophy or two. The latter are remembered forever for their play day in and day out, whether they get that major trophy or not – see the career and respect GuardiaN has earned for himself.

You’ve been frequently praised for your efforts and accomplishments thusfar. From a rookie C9 took a gamble on to the captain leading them back to international relevancy and through the hard times to the line-up which lifted the ELEAGUE Major Boston trophy. Sometimes I worry if people showered you with too much adulation, though. Told you that you did well in tournaments your team didn’t go deep in or that you did enough when you had a good game. You’ve done a lot in your short career, but not enough yet.

North American fans in many esports know not to get their hopes up too high when their champions go head-to-head with the world’s best. They pray for a chance to compete, hope for an inspired performance and cheer for those who can be great for an NA player. That’s where you are right now: great for a North American player. It’s a nice spot to be in, as my pals Hiko and seangares could attest, but it’s not the same as being considered the best with no caveats required. Competing with the top teams in the world is fun, but beating them and becoming a legendary member of the best team in the world and one of the best teams of all-time is something quite different and far more special. Are you up to it?

Talent is a beautiful gift and dreadful curse to see granted to an individual. Ability he hones with hours of practice to become someone who can play in any game, prove himself to anyone. But that talent makes becoming the best tricky. The more talent a player has the more difficult it can be to find himself and his place. If he’s too good then some people will pull back and let him go where he shouldn’t go and say what he shouldn’t say, because they revere his ability to do what they cannot. If he fails then some will pat him on the back and say “oh well, you tried.” But that’s not enough for someone capable of more.

In a team without a leader you assumed that mantle and your efforts were valiant, but you had to make your mistakes along the way, like any young player or rookie captain. Now the challenge is a different one, centered entirely upon yourself. You’re playing with proven winners, players who could never touch a mouse again and be considered legends of this game and enter into the Hall of Fame. Who will you be to those players and for yourself?

To Cloud9 you were a promising rookie, then a bold captain and finally a key role player in a major-winning side. Will you shine as a star in MiBR and show us a new level of excellence for a North American player? Will you carve out your niche as a vital play-maker who his team-mates rave about? Is it your time to support others’ talent and be the glue that connects their individual efforts into a cohesive team chemistry which cannot be easily broken?

There are no short-cuts to the top, as they say. It might seem like you skipped a line packed with legends to win the major, but with that victory came the expectation that you can repeat that accomplishment. Do it with MiBR and you take steps to becoming a legend yourself. This was a team floundering right before you got there. A squad that has seen some of its titanic figures diminished and wounded. Win a major with them and your ability to overcome adversity knows no limits. That’s who you are, right? Someone who can’t be stopped.

When I saw your player profile I could relate to both sides of your difficulties with your parents. I imagine they had to suffer hardships to succeed in their lives and they thought they were right to chastise you for seemingly throwing your life away on a video game. In their own way, they were right – most people who go down that path won’t make it and one day they may well regret their decision and think better of it. You were right too, though. Once you developed your talent it was not a matter of luck or fate if you made it, you were pursuing something real and here you are. One day, perhaps it’s already come, both parties will see that each had your best interests at heart.

In that spirit, show me MiBR was right about you. Make it so that one day they look back and laugh at the high profile names that would have been in your spot right now if they’d said yes, wondering how they would have fared then with a bevvy of trophies shimmering in the background of the MiBR training facility as you talk. Show me there’s more to North American Counter-Strike than being good for an NA player. Show me what Rambo and fRoD showed me over a decade ago: that a North American player can be great for a player from any country. A champion for his career. A legend.

Show me more.