So I had about six losses in a row today, each more depressing than the last(how the fuck do you get aced-to-nexus' on a 45-28?)
In my last game, I pick Singed, figuring that if I want to go to bed with a win, it's time to put up with my best guy.
We have a Yi and a LeBlanc. The Yi feeds to 0 and 4 in 8 minutes. I can feel existential self-pity creeping in.
Then... Yi says "Don't worry, we're going to win."
Suddenly, he and LeBlanc are fucking terror incarnate. LeBlanc has 8 stacks of Mejai and Yi is 0 and 7 before I start putting myself in the right place at the right time, rising from my stupor. Mundos and Blitzcranks are fed to LeBlanc's enchanted furnace of hate as they think they can stand toe-to-toe with IM SINGED.
We win at 31 and 22, having crested our 8 kill gap ten minutes ago. And then LeBlanc and Yi say "I love a good Singed." I shed a tear.
That Yi taught me to believe in myself. I wonder if he has blue hair and wears angled shades.