Here’s why scrimming gives no experience for LAN. This is in response to some fans from the League of Legends subreddit who thought it did.
A scrim game:
You wake up, shower and relax as you mentally get ready for a long day of scrims. You sit down, steps away from your room and prep. You get your favorite computer, your favorite chair, your favorite drink. You ate well for breakfast and now you’re ready to play for the day. The grind will be long, but this is just practice in the end. You get to the scrim early and wait for your teammates and scrim partners. You play it out. You feel relaxed. Everything is going fine. Even though mistakes were made, you go over them after the scrim is done. You feel like a better player.
A LAN game:
You were unable to sleep last night. Each time you wish you could blame the jet lag, but the reason you couldn’t sleep was because each time you closed your eyes all you could see was the lose screen come up in your mind, of Faker killing you in the mid lane, of you failing your teammates, their broken faces as you make the walk of shame back home. It is 3 a.m. already and you wonder if you will have to go play with no sleep. You wake up, and it is 5:30 a.m. You have to get to the venue by 7 a.m. You wish you could go back to sleep — your body is screaming at you to go back to sleep — but you realize that if you do you’ll be groggy for the rest of the day and that could hurt your focus. You take a shower but stay tense. You eat breakfast, or try to, but it’s some weird shit you’ve never seen before and you wonder what they put in it. You drink coffee, a lot of coffee, and hope the caffeine staves off the sleepiness. You are fidgety the whole way there. You walk up to the stadium and see hordes of fans already lining up. You feel the pressure already, but try to stay calm. You set up the computer. Everything seems fine. You warm up, but it goes badly and you snap at your teammate. Things are not starting off well. You go onto the stage, shake hands and get ready to play, only to realize your computer is now bugged. You are anxious to start. You don’t know how long this will take. You take another swill of coffee. At this point, your blood is getting in the way of your caffeine stream. You can feel the stares of thousands of fans at the stadium, your teammates and the admins. The game finally starts. You make a critical mistake you never did in practice, one that gets you and your teammate killed. They tell you it’s OK, but in the back of your mind you know you fucked up. You can’t get over it, you keep dwelling on it, and you decide you won’t make any more mistakes. But then you do nothing, you wait and wait and wait, and 30 minutes later, it feels like you’ve done nothing and the game is over. You are sick to your stomach. You spent the entire year getting here and couldn’t even show half of what you did throughout the year. You wish you could get rid of this sick feeling, but you know that this feeling will stick with you for the rest of the day as you go on to get ready for your next game.