thats true
he is an international fraud
Flag: | Sweden |
Registered: | January 24, 2025 |
Last post: | August 9, 2025 at 12:33 PM |
Posts: | 1728 |
because he is the worst coach in eu even worse than pipsoN
you are braindead
im not gonna answer you after this message
you can keep yapping in front of your keyboard like donkey
i watch all regions
and your take is shit mate
if you are real european answer this question correctly
which city is the best city in europe?
you wont be real winner with faking tech pauses bro
you are shameless
I feel like Pipson, have no clue what's going on
W Boaster
my concentration span is cooked i cant stand to anime more than 5 min
Aspas, the so-called Valorant prodigy, is a walking disaster who’s somehow convinced the world he’s a top-tier player when he’s really just a glorified highlight reel with the game sense of a potato on a power trip. This man’s out here popping off like he’s cracked, but it’s all a mirage—his aim’s a coin toss, either he’s frying or he’s whiffing harder than a blindfolded toddler swinging at a piñata, and there’s no in-between. He charges into fights like a brainrot-fueled TikTok warrior yelling “YEET,” only to get smoked by some random Omen who’s been chilling in a corner since the Icebox rework, leaving his team to 4v5 while he’s spamming “lag” in all chat like a true sigma copium addict. His decision-making is so cooked it’s basically a microwave meal gone wrong—overheated, underthought, and leaving everyone around him starving for a clutch he’ll never deliver. Bro’s got the adaptability of a brick wall; when his Plan A of “run in and click heads” fails, he just sits there like a stunned NPC, waiting for his Reyna to Leer him out of the mess he made. Leviatán tried to babysit this man’s ego, but even they couldn’t stop him from turning every match into a 1v9 montage fail—LOUD only won because they built a whole system to carry his “main character syndrome” ass, and he still found ways to fumble the bag. He’s got this passive-aggressive playstyle that’s peak brainrot, lurking for trades like a Discord kitten waiting for a simp to save her, instead of stepping up and making plays like a real pro. Fans hype his “raw talent,” but let’s be fr—those clips are just him stat-padding against tier-two teams while he gets farmed by any duelist with a pulse and a functioning frontal lobe. Aspas isn’t elite; he’s a vibes merchant riding a wave of hype, a walking “L” with a pro jersey, and the only thing he’s mastered is making me want to uninstall every time he throws another round with his “skibidi toilet” energy. He’s not a goat, he’s a sheep in a crosshair costume, and the sooner we stop gassing him up, the sooner we can all stop pretending he’s anything more than a mid-tier fraud with good PR.
you will get attention you want chill
Chet and Victor joining M80? Oh, this is a train wreck so catastrophic it’d make the Titanic look like a minor fender bender. Let’s start with Chet Singh, the self-proclaimed “strategic genius” who’s been riding the coattails of his 2022 OpTic success like it’s a lifetime achievement award. This guy couldn’t coach his way out of a paper bag if you gave him a map and a flashlight. NRG’s 2024 season under his watch? A complete dumpster fire—no playoffs, no international trophies, just a sad little pile of excuses and a suspension to top it off. Violating Riot’s Esports Code of Conduct? Classic Chet move—probably leaked strats to his buddies while sipping overpriced kombucha, thinking he’s untouchable. Now he’s slinking over to M80, a team that’s already on life support after disbanding its roster in September 2024. What’s he gonna do, revive them with his “innovative” ideas? Please. The only thing he’s innovating is new ways to disappoint everyone who still believes in him. M80’s about to get a front-row seat to Chet’s signature blend of overconfidence and underperformance—hope they enjoy watching their win rate plummet faster than a lead balloon.
And then there’s Victor Wong, the once-hyped Neon prodigy who’s been dining out on his 2022 highlights for so long you’d think he invented the game. Newsflash, Vic: the glory days are over, and your aim’s been shakier than a caffeinated chihuahua ever since. Back when he was with OpTic, sure, he had some pop-off moments—those flashy Neon ults were cute—but now? He’s an entry fragger who forgets to entry, a duelist who’d rather hide in spawn than take a fight. His 2024 stint with NRG was a masterclass in mediocrity—couldn’t clutch, couldn’t trade, couldn’t even keep his KDA above water. The guy’s been coasting on nostalgia while the rest of the scene evolved past him. Pairing him with M80 is like putting a rusty cog in a broken machine—except the machine’s already scrapped, and the cog’s just there to make noise. Victor’s probably still dreaming of those old LAN crowds chanting his name, but all he’s getting now is a pity contract from a team desperate enough to take NRG’s leftovers.
Together, these two are a match made in hell for M80. Chet’s going to roll in with his outdated playbook—probably some dusty strats from 2021 he found in a Google Doc titled “How to Lose Friends and Alienate Teammates.” He’ll bark orders like he’s still relevant, while Victor nods along, whiffing shots and pretending he’s still got it. The rest of the M80 roster—if you can even call it that after their disbandment—will be stuck wondering how they went from Tier 2 hopefuls to a laughingstock overnight. Opponents won’t even need to prep; they’ll just let Chet overthink himself into a corner and watch Victor whiff his way through every duel. This duo’s synergy is about as real as a unicorn riding a skateboard—nonexistent and ridiculous to even imagine. M80’s legacy, whatever scraps of it were left, is about to get buried under Chet’s ego and Victor’s inconsistency. They’ll be lucky to win a single map, let alone a series, in whatever low-rent circuit they end up slumming it in. Honestly, the only thing this move guarantees is a highlight reel of fails so embarrassing it’ll make the Valorant community cringe for years. Good luck, M80—you’re gonna need it with these two clowns on board.
you told major city that confused my mind
https://garticphone.com/en/?c=0170967dd0
before vitality vs fnatic lets have some fun
i was 0 star like 3 days ago
answer: no
you dont even know team's new name + what makes you think this guy will carry yfp?
of course there is some overpowered characters but i think all characters needs a general nerf
they will announce new agent in masters toronto finals
fnatic 2-1 vit
100t wins against loud
japan of course prx has only jinggg
PIPSON YOU ARE FIRED
day 1
yes and do street begging in your free times
Chet and Victor joining M80? Oh, this is a train wreck so catastrophic it’d make the Titanic look like a minor fender bender. Let’s start with Chet Singh, the self-proclaimed “strategic genius” who’s been riding the coattails of his 2022 OpTic success like it’s a lifetime achievement award. This guy couldn’t coach his way out of a paper bag if you gave him a map and a flashlight. NRG’s 2024 season under his watch? A complete dumpster fire—no playoffs, no international trophies, just a sad little pile of excuses and a suspension to top it off. Violating Riot’s Esports Code of Conduct? Classic Chet move—probably leaked strats to his buddies while sipping overpriced kombucha, thinking he’s untouchable. Now he’s slinking over to M80, a team that’s already on life support after disbanding its roster in September 2024. What’s he gonna do, revive them with his “innovative” ideas? Please. The only thing he’s innovating is new ways to disappoint everyone who still believes in him. M80’s about to get a front-row seat to Chet’s signature blend of overconfidence and underperformance—hope they enjoy watching their win rate plummet faster than a lead balloon.
And then there’s Victor Wong, the once-hyped Neon prodigy who’s been dining out on his 2022 highlights for so long you’d think he invented the game. Newsflash, Vic: the glory days are over, and your aim’s been shakier than a caffeinated chihuahua ever since. Back when he was with OpTic, sure, he had some pop-off moments—those flashy Neon ults were cute—but now? He’s an entry fragger who forgets to entry, a duelist who’d rather hide in spawn than take a fight. His 2024 stint with NRG was a masterclass in mediocrity—couldn’t clutch, couldn’t trade, couldn’t even keep his KDA above water. The guy’s been coasting on nostalgia while the rest of the scene evolved past him. Pairing him with M80 is like putting a rusty cog in a broken machine—except the machine’s already scrapped, and the cog’s just there to make noise. Victor’s probably still dreaming of those old LAN crowds chanting his name, but all he’s getting now is a pity contract from a team desperate enough to take NRG’s leftovers.
Together, these two are a match made in hell for M80. Chet’s going to roll in with his outdated playbook—probably some dusty strats from 2021 he found in a Google Doc titled “How to Lose Friends and Alienate Teammates.” He’ll bark orders like he’s still relevant, while Victor nods along, whiffing shots and pretending he’s still got it. The rest of the M80 roster—if you can even call it that after their disbandment—will be stuck wondering how they went from Tier 2 hopefuls to a laughingstock overnight. Opponents won’t even need to prep; they’ll just let Chet overthink himself into a corner and watch Victor whiff his way through every duel. This duo’s synergy is about as real as a unicorn riding a skateboard—nonexistent and ridiculous to even imagine. M80’s legacy, whatever scraps of it were left, is about to get buried under Chet’s ego and Victor’s inconsistency. They’ll be lucky to win a single map, let alone a series, in whatever low-rent circuit they end up slumming it in. Honestly, the only thing this move guarantees is a highlight reel of fails so embarrassing it’ll make the Valorant community cringe for years. Good luck, M80—you’re gonna need it with these two clowns on board.