The Dichotomy of being the Greatest: the s1mple Comeback Story

There stands the fallen superstar, the legend of yesterday, one who was cast away from the familiar shores of the very craft that shaped him. And then he returns to a team aflame with the same hunger, sharing the audacity and sharp minds of edgewalkers. Admirers and skeptics alike have been watching s1mple make his CS2 return with bated breath; strangely, everyone yearns for his redemption. Emotions swirl like a tempest, both within him and among those who orbit his world. But being the greatest often breeds a dichotomy. A constant toil between reality and the weight of expectations.

What hand does destiny deal next? What invisible parameters, what unforeseen hurdles, will forge or fracture the man once deemed the greatest?

The voice within s1mple

“You need to prove yourself.”
“We want the old s1mple back.”
“He isn’t the same anymore.”
“Washed.”

The community’s verdicts are often swift, their narratives quickly formed. Yet, these voices sound far louder not when they come from the crowd, but when they come from within. When you have slumbered away from competitive play for more than a year, every negative-rated performance hits you deeper than it will to any fan.

That is why the true battle isn’t proving to the world that you remain unchanged, but convincing yourself of that very truth. s1mple’s fire is not the same as donk’s; donk has everything to prove, whereas s1mple’s mantle already weighs heavy with past accolades. But how does one measure motivation? Is it the cold calculus of results, or something more elusive? Even if such metrics fail to capture the drive of a man, the world cruelly insists on judging by numbers alone.

The crucible grows hotter when you have been crowned the greatest. Expectations soar, and mercy becomes a stranger. Unlike a ‘mediocre’ talent granted leeway, the greats are demanded to deliver miracles, and that too instantaneously, unfailingly. It is a funny thing, momentum, a fragile one that demands relentless nurturing. One misstep and it shatters, forcing a reset. So, how many 2.00+ ratings will it take before we lay the tale of s1mple’s mythical ‘comeback’ to rest?

The Ego of the Greats

Joining a team like FaZe, where several bear the tag ‘greatest’ next to their names, the stakes change. There’s the greatest IGL, the greatest teammate, the greatest American rifler. In such company, perhaps the occasional 1.20 rating suffices. “Don’t repeek that s1mple, 4v2 let’s chill,” says karrigan. And within those words, a dilemma is born.

On one hand, karrigan, the leader, knows the right thing to do, playing advantage for the collective good. After all, the team’s interest takes precedence over personal ambition. Maybe there’s a desire to assert authority, to remind the beast that the call belongs to the commander. For a leader, confidence is sacred; karrigan earned his stripes long before s1mple’s arrival and would hold firm even without him.

Yet on the other hand, there is s1mple. I’m transported back to those ‘How to AWP’ tutorials, where the advice was always: “Don’t try to learn from s1mple.” What he does is something only he can do. After all, s1mple didn’t become s1mple by respecting his opponents. This attitude has worked for prime s1mple more often than not, which has made it okay when it didn’t. That audacity is why a failed knife attempt on nitr0 becomes nothing more than a prelude to colossal carry moments. I am sure karrigan knows it, and how well he is able to balance the two will determine the success and cohesion of the team.

Ego in sports is a topic as complex as the game itself. What is the psychology of a winner? “An unwavering commitment to the idea of being the best,” answers the astute, often with minimal reflection. It is easier for the hungry, the hungry-for-glory, to live by such a creed. The dilemma before s1mple is the paradox of the egoist: greatness demands ego, but only from those who know when to draw a line.

The onus lies with all the players

It’s not just s1mple who feels the need to prove something, but everyone on FaZe at the moment. Each player wants to show s1mple that they’re worth his time, his trust, his fire. If you watched FaZe’s latest vlog, that yearning didn’t even need words. There’s more mental warfare happening behind the scenes than what shows on screen.

For s1mple, who is in a limbo of the player he used to be and the player he is, the real battle isn’t on the scoreboard, it’s the one within. A reckoning with himself and the invisible walls that both he and his teammates need to break down. Instead of chasing the person he was, he should own the new one. People will keep comparing him to ZywOo, donk, m0NESY, chasing names and numbers. But the only comparison that should matter on his road back is with the man he was yesterday.