11/08/2025
They said computer shops were a waste of time. But for me, it became home.
I’m Enzo. I grew up in Iloilo.
And this is how Counter-Strike saved a broken kid like me.
My mom was an OFW in Dubai.
My dad? A drunk.
He’d come home yelling, wasted out of his mind, breaking things, sometimes even hitting me.
I was just 11 when he left for good.
So I lived with my grandmother.
She was kind.
But poor.
Her sari-sari store barely earned enough to feed us.
I remember one afternoon, I saw kids playing Counter-Strike in the shop across the street.
The sounds — “Fire in the hole!” “Go go go!” — they lit something in me.
I stood by the door every day, just watching.
Then one day, Kuya Jomar, the shop assistant, noticed me.
“Gusto mo maglaro?” he asked.
I nodded, shyly.
“Libre na 'to. Pero bukas, tulungan mo ko sa general cleaning ha?”
That was my first time holding a mouse.
I was clueless.
But curious.
I died every round, but I kept going.
Days turned into weeks.
I learned to aim.
To clutch 1v2.
To snipe enemies clean from the bridge near the bombsite in de_dust.
Heck, I even got good at bunny hop and knife.
“Ay si Enzo, galing niyan sa knife nyan!”
I wasn’t just playing.
I was winning.
By 14, I was being invited to barangay tournaments.
At 15, I was carrying squads older than me.
And that’s when I met Coach Allan.
He was scouting for his amateur CS team.
He saw me play in a mini-tourney.
After the match, he approached me:
“Bata, magaling ka ah!”
I joined.
No salary.
Just food, allowance, and a place to sleep.
But for the first time…
I belonged somewhere.
We trained every night after work.
I juggled jobs — helper sa palengke, tagalinis ng computer shop, kahit anong raket — just to survive and support the dream.
Then came the regional qualifiers.
A chance to enter a national CS event in Manila.
We were the underdogs.
No sponsors. No gear. Just hunger.
But we made it.
Top 8 in the country.
And when I stood on that stage, holding the medal with shaking hands…
I remembered the boy outside the shop window.
Just watching.
Wishing.
Now, he was here.
We didn’t win first.
But we got noticed.
One of the event sponsors, a tech company, offered me a scholarship.
Said they admired my discipline, my drive.
Fast forward 6 years.
I’m now a Computer Science graduate.
Working in Makati as a game developer trainee.
Helping build the same kind of games that once gave me an escape.
Coach Allan still calls me “Champ.”
And I still play CS on weekends, just for fun now.
My Lola?
She passed away before I graduated.
But I keep her photo beside my monitor.
My mom in Dubai?
She cried when she saw me in a barong, holding my diploma.
I used to think I was just a poor kid from the province.
Now I know I’m more than that.
I’m a gamer. A survivor. A fighter.
“People think games are just games.
But to some of us, they’re the reason we’re still alive.”
-Enzo D. (CTTO)
