First published by Saint Louis University News
Recently, as fate would have it, I was introduced to the president of SLU Esports, Jack. We quickly got to conversing, and discovered that there is little to no knowledge of the complete disbandment of the SLU Varsity League of Legends team and SLU Esports program. After discovering we had mutual acquaintances, both in our work with the Study Abroad department and the Esports team, we decided that we should bring awareness to the subject.
When the idea of writing a League of Legends article was proposed to me, I was a bit hesitant; did I know enough about League? Could I handle speaking about it in a way that honors the vocabulary and jargon used? Upon further reflection, I felt as though the elimination of the team isn’t about League itself, but rather, what it means to be part of a team. The zealous relationships formed and their consequential experiences shared. It’s about what these players have accomplished together, and now, ultimately, what will crumble. It seems as though the SLU community as a whole, as well as the actual players on the varsity team, have been blindsided by these budget cuts.
The SLU Esports team began as one of the largest student-run clubs on campus, and is now a well-known name in collegiate esports. By introducing varsity and club esports subsets in 2020, the program serves as a space for students to compete in various video gaming competitions and provide resources for them to thrive. Earlier this year, the varsity League of Legends team competed in the College League of Legends (CLOL) Championship, the finals of the North American collegiate circuit, on June 8. They beat longtime rival, Maryville University, to place first out of 32 teams, earning them a prize package of $50,000. This placing secured their first CLOL championship in Varsity program history.
Interview with SLU Varsity League of Legends members
Earlier this week, I had the chance to sit down with two players on the varsity team, Aaron and Daniel, as well as Esports President, Jack Parrack and Esports Event Coordinator, Garrett, in the Esports lab. Aaron “Airren” is currently a Junior, but started playing as a Freshman here at SLU; Daniel “SkyTec” is a current Sophomore who also began playing at SLU as a Freshman. I began the interview by obtaining a general introduction, but before long, we transitioned into winning the national championship, and what the preparation for that looked like.
Aaron: “We had to fly some of our teammates out, actually, because most of us were online. So there were three in person, and the rest we flew here [St. Louis]. Over the summer, we stayed in St. Louis and had, like, a month-long bootcamp in the lab. In person.”
Sophie: “And why do you feel that was important?”
Aaron: “Maryville, our rivals, is already all in person. They already have that bond established. But for us, we had to establish that from the ground up. And we did it all in a month’s worth, which is why I feel like it was that much more special.”
Aaron and Daniel both detail this bootcamp experience with fond nostalgia, citing that the maximization of the team’s time together was something that can never be broken; “We’ll be friends forever, and I wouldn’t have met them without SLU Esports.” It becomes understandable, then, that the cut of the varsity team diverges much further than the game of League itself.
What started off as a lighthearted practice in order to prepare for next season ended in a massacre of emotions. On August 15, 2024, exactly two months and seven days after the CLOL championship (and $50,000 prize), the varsity team received an email that their program had been defunded, their program director had been fired, and their future was demolished.
Daniel: “Yeah, we thought it was a scam honestly. The email was only, like, three lines long.”
Sophie: “Wait, you found out through an email?”
Daniel: “We did, but only from the President of Student Development. We never heard anything else, really.”
Sophie: “Nothing? At all?”
Jack: “Nothing. From nobody.”
Jack revealed that Nick Chiu, former SLU Esports faculty advisor and varsity League coach, had sent them a message in their Discord chat stating that he had been let go, and the demise of the varsity team was imminent. What I found interesting, however, was that there was no communication to Chiu or the team from the championship in June to the dissolve date in August except for a peculiar interaction that Aaron details to me:
Aaron: “The President of the university had a meeting with Chiu, and he wanted to take a picture with me and my other teammate [Srtty], but it was never about budget cuts, it was always about budget increases.”
Sophie: “Oh, there was never any talk at all about the diminishing of the team? Only about it growing?”
Aaron: “As far as I know, budget cuts were never discussed.”
It seems a bit odd that the year the varsity team brings home the championship trophy is also the year where they are the first team to go.
Speaking with SLU Esports’ former Program Director
I was able to sit down with Chiu to get a better understanding of the program he built, as well as why he chose to stay at SLU, being a former student. “I stayed at SLU because I believe in the school,” he says. “I sculpted it. It’s easy to stay comfortable in a place you believe in as a product, which kind of bit me later.” He notes the university dismissing any moves he made if they did not involve winning. “I wanted to prove to them that we were successful. I was like, ‘I can give you all these numbers, but do you care?’ kind of thing.”
At this point in the interview, I shifted to be a bit more personal. In my initial conversation with Jack, pre-article, I asked if there was anything he wishes the school would have done differently. Immediately, he began to talk about honesty and transparency: “I just want SLU to tell us, directly, what is going on with the school.”
Jack then shared with me that it might give better perspective if I asked the varsity League players as well. When I brought this question up to the boys, I was met with a lot of animosity, and rightfully so. This lack of communication can be compared to relatively few situations, so it is understandable as to why the sudden dissolution of an established program being communicated through a three-line email is worthy of a bigger discussion.
The common denominator in discussing how SLU could have gone about the cuts was transparency. The news came to them three days before campus move-in; such short notice effectively eliminated the players’ ability to switch to a different school and play collegiately, as we plunged into the term nearly another three days later.
Daniel: “It felt as though they didn’t even want a rebuttal either. The email was sent and it was done.”
Aaron: “Yeah. I thought after winning the prize we would be solid for at least the next few years and would get some good funding. I really wanted a backpack. Just a Nike backpack.”
I asked Chiu how he felt the university should have handled things, in which he details that he wishes he would have advocated for himself above all. “I don’t want to look back and feel ill towards the club students,” he says. “I don’t want to feel negative towards their success without me. But it’s sadly the way that everything went out.”
The dismissal of the players is, of course, cause for concern. However, the treatment of the faculty advisor, Chiu, who was notified he had lost his source of income as well as a tie to the program he molded and shaped with his own fingertips, should also be noted. Chiu started with SLU in 2017 as a freshman; he did not feel invited to clubs such as anime or board games, and took initiative to form the Esports club. By his sophomore year, SLU Esports was a CSO. As a senior, Chiu was a full-time student, but also the “director of Esports,” he shares. He was the liaison between SLU Esports and the Student Government Association (SGA), but in lieu of his absence, the club will have to receive funds directly from the SGA, something that has been an issue in the past.
At first, SLU Esports gave out minor scholarships equivalent to around $2,000 to bolster up the club at its beginning. However, as Chiu’s third year as director came around, he alternated funding to come from inside the university rather than outside, i.e., all $71-$75,000 was put towards recruiting and scholarships. Unlike other competition based programs, SLU Esports is at the mercy of the department. “We didn’t have donors or anything, and our success still skyrocketed each year,” Chiu shares. “Every single top program we competed against had budgets that were 5x the amount of ours. With full investment into their students.”
Breaking the news of the program’s closure
Chiu was called into a meeting on the morning of Aug. 15. “I went to a meeting with HR. And I didn’t know they were gonna be there,” he reveals. “They said that starting in September my position would be eliminated. I know why, but I didn’t get told why directly. I can’t leak what the form said, but I took a big hit.”
When asked how the news was broken to the players, Chiu revealed that he was not able to speak with them to break the news himself. “The players got the email before I got to say anything,” he states. “I didn’t even want to say anything to them. I got bombarded with messages and I didn’t even know what was going on.” On the future of the players, Chiu said the university was understanding of keeping the scholarships.
“I made it very apparent that these guys need their promise that I gave them,” Chiu says. “They told me they would maintain their scholarships until they graduate. But there was nothing in writing ever.” His income was not shared.
Sophie: “Had there been any hints on Chiu’s side of the street that there may be a sense of impending doom for the team?”
Aaron: “We don’t really know much, to be honest. We can only assume that he [Chiu] potentially knew something, but we know for a fact he found out the same day as we did.”
If SLU is that quick to dismiss the faculty advisory of a winning program, who’s to say another club isn’t next?
In a conversation I held with Chiu, he reports the moment he felt a sort of secrecy within the department, as the university was unable to tell him how to proceed after the championship win.
“We hit all the metrics,” Chiu notes. “We’re the largest club on campus, we are nationally known and acclaimed. And these are things that other clubs struggle with. So I thought I would go to my boss and say ‘what now?’”
The university, apparently, did not know what they wanted, either. Repeatedly, I clocked multiple mentions of budget increases. According to Chiu, even before the championship, he was in talks with his higher ups about even expanding the budget. “We had competitive success,” he says. “I wanted to add a new title this upcoming year, but every time, talks were about maintaining the program, never pulling back.”
Allegedly, the Esports lab was opened to all students, and this was done without the consent of the current members. Chiu notes this is “good for the general student, but rough for competitors.” Personally, it feels almost as an invasion of privacy; a complete acquisition of a space that was designed and noted for Esports members being taken advantage of without their knowledge.
Community response
It is also worth noting that this news not only sent shockwaves through the SLU community, but also, the Esports community as a whole. Former program director Chiu sent out a post on X (formerly Twitter) the day the news dropped, and other program directors at major universities — including SLU’s rival team Maryville — exploded in rage. The X thread can be found below:
Esports members were shocked. Many of them left enraged comments below Chiu’s original post:
@coachalne: 💔truly sorry to hear this, what an amazing legacy and story year you guys had. You’ve accomplished something very few people in collegiate ever have and I’m confident this is only the beginning for you
@Galokot: Unbelievable. I’m sorry this happened to both you and your students, especially after such an incredible experience. 8 years of loyalty to your campus community, let alone winning CLOL, should’ve been better respected. I know you’ll end up somewhere that does a better job of it.
Most of the players also sent posts out thanking the community for their continued support. Aaron’s message reads as follows:
“Yesterday we got the news broken to us that our SLU varsity/ league program was going to be eliminated effectively. I’m still in shock genuinely even after waking up . After being [a]part of this program for two years since Chew had brought me on and going through literally the highest and the lows I remember crying in chew[‘]s arms at comic con in 2022 because I inted so hard and to 2024 where we held our first national championship together. This program me[an]t a lot to me and teammates we never had the most[biggest] budget and we were always underdogs which made winning for ourselves and Chew that much sweeter.”
Aaron’s post was met with positive engagement, mostly from outside fans wishing him and the rest of the team the best in the future.
@ flomillinoflo: this is so heartbreaking 🙁 you’ll be incredible anywhere you go next 🫶
@ stacy_marie26: Heartbreaking 💔
@ sixersoph: no guys 🙁 i’m so sorry aaron! i hope you find a place where you can continue to grow and find passion! it was an honor having you <3
Daniel received different reactions. Although he desisted from crafting a post to send to the community, he was met with several followers from universities with collegiate League teams: “They weren’t even sending just regards, though. Other schools started randomly following us with opportunities for their clubs. My friends were also like ‘what are you doing here anymore?’ And I told them ‘just because of the scholarship, I’ll stay.’”
What’s next for these players?
To wrap up the interview, I felt as though it was important to understand how the dissolve is actively affecting the future of these players. Though the team was cut, their scholarships are guaranteed to them until they graduate; Aaron notes that this was too good of a deal to let go of, and he plans to stay at SLU until he graduates next May.
He states that he wants to still play in the next CLOL season, but without funding to travel, the probability of them attending in-person tournaments with the entire team is entirely too low; if they make the top eight, “which we can easily do,” they can still play at a club level. Aaron made sure to point out that regardless of the elimination of the team, he will do what he can to keep in contact with the relationships he built over the past few years.
Aaron shared, “Even though our program got canceled, these are my brothers. Forever.”
Daniel took a different approach to this question, however. It seems as though without the chance to play competitively, he wants to focus his attention on other hobbies, “I don’t really have that much motivation to play anymore. I keep thinking that I could have a normal life. I can imagine myself in a life without League.”
Sophie: “Would you want to still play recreationally? Since you’re only a Sophomore, if given the chance, would you accept a scholarship to play competitively at another university?”
Daniel: “Probably not. I do want to play, but I don’t want to play that much.”
Going into this interview, I neglected to prepare myself on the art of League of Legends itself, but the conversation swayed naturally into the relational side of the dissolve independently. Aaron and Daniel are taking away incredible friendships and bonds formed in their few years playing on the SLU varsity League team. From “clowning Maryville” to bunking dormitory style during their one month bootcamp, these experiences will continue to shape the individual players and build their reaction to adversity throughout their college and adult lives.
Aaron and Daniel reveal that they still talk to Chiu on the regular, although his response ratio has steadily declined since the firing. The boys recognize, however, that building the club for seven years only to eventually be ripped away just as it came to fruition has taken a mental and physical toll on the former director.
Aaron: “He believed in me, and he put his trust in me, and for that I’ll forever be grateful for him.”
When asked what he plans to do in the future, Chiu notes that the esports market in general is a bad place to job search. “I would rather work at another institution, just not in collegiate esports,” he says. “I created one of the strongest teams in the nation. If I go somewhere else, I feel like I wouldn’t be happy there either.”
For multiple days after the interview, in each conversation I had with fellow peers, colleagues, journalists, and friends, the dissolution of the varsity team was brought up. It still baffles the Esports community that the team was the first to go, considering the money and reputation they brought to SLU. A model of resilience, perseverance, and friendship destroyed by the capitalist nature of a private university.
Future of the SLU Esports Club
President of SLU Esports Jack reveals that the club should not, to his knowledge, be receiving any more cuts to any of the other recreational teams.
Jack: “We should be fine, I think. We’ve kind of had to fund ourselves anyway, even though we’d much prefer it if that wasn’t the case.”
As for the future of the team, Chiu notes that they will never reach the level that they were at post-dissolve without him. “Can we be national champions without me? No,” he says. “There’s going to be no recruitment. And no scholarships. I fully believe that they’re good players, but it’s like asking college basketball to be as good as they are without an athletic director.”
Chiu currently volunteers for MOSEF, the Missouri Scholastic Esports Federation. “I volunteer a lot for them in terms of events,” he says. “I connect with a lot of their high schools. We host their conferences here. A lot of their students choose to go to SLU because they hear about our program.”
When asked about his future plans, Chiu reveals that he has been looking at jobs outside the Esports world. He feels as though he has connections in the greater St. Louis area that can get him to where he wants to be. Chiu notes that there is no animosity between him and the university, however. “There’s never a good time to get laid off, but I was just baffled,” he shares. “I did everything I could, but you can’t please someone who doesn’t know what they want.”
SLU Esports continues to be a space in which individuals can express their passion, contribute their talent, and engage in beautiful connection. The elimination of the varsity team is ultimately an unfortunate event, but the reputation of SLU begins to crumble when the lack of communication and honesty between them and the team is chipped away at. This decision reflects deeper financial and strategic challenges within the university, rather than the value of the players or the realm of League itself.
The landscape of Esports is continually evolving; it’s important to remember that while defunding the SLU varsity team might signal the end for one chapter, it will hopefully pave the way for numerous blossoming chapters to come.
