36-46, fucking hell. This is getting to the point where I'm seriously considering refusing the 5th slot to some MM random. The last game of the night: I was Ancient Apparition, Trasher was on Night Stalker, EazyB was on Enchantress, and Luke Smith was on Windrunner. Our last player was a Riki. For the most part we played evenly during the early game, eventually breaking out in large part thanks to Trasher's stellar Night Stalker play. He just started racking up the kills, and we started pushing towers down. Our 5th never spoke to us at all, but fair enough, maybe he didn't speak English.
But somewhere along the way, our Riki stops trying. Suddenly he no longer knows how to use his silence cloud (which would spell his death and the death of teammates more than once), suddenly he's getting caught out of position in bad places, suddenly he's no longer contributing well to teamfights or tower pushes (and he was killing people earlier, he was fully capable of it), suddenly he's refusing to pick up an Aegis of the immortal even though he has a slot (and duly stole Trasher's urn after Trasher made room for it). We lost a barracks, we came back and won a teamfight, then our lovable 5th got tripped up in his own shoelaces and spelled the end of a crucial raxing attempt. For every glimmer of hope that surfaced afterward (successfully defending the mid rax whilst popping AM's aegis and killing 2 others), he was there to make sure nothing we attempted bore fruit. He earned every inch of that report.
Everything was firing on all cylinders, and then Riki wound up the pitch. It was the biggest throw of his life.
