56
BloombergBusinessweekconstructionoftheRobertsProtonTherapy
Center,a 75,000-square-footcancer-treatmentfacil-
ity,supportedbyhisfamily’sphilanthropy.
Roberts got an early peek at the future of
e-sports during an internship at Activision Blizzard
Inc. After college, in 2013, he took a job at game
makerElectronicArtsInc.,wherehehelpedput
TheSimsgameontheAppleWatch.Hiscorpo-
rateRumspringacomplete,Robertsjoinedhis
dadin2016,takinga jobatComcast’sventure
capitalarminSanFrancisco.E-sportsteamshadrecently
become a hotinvestment, and ActivisionCEO Bobby
Kotickdecidedtocreatea professionalleaguebuiltaround
Overwatch, thecompany’s 2016 shootinggame,inwhicha
well-armedcastofgiftedandtalentedbioluminescentchar-
acters(afreedom-fightingDJ,a transcendentallyempowered
monk)duelforpyrotechnicdominanceovera futureversion
ofEarththat’sbeenravagedbyinsubordinaterobots.
Theleaguestrucka TVdealwithWaltDisneyCo.toair
gamesonABCandESPN,andit arrangedforthenewowners,
Comcastamongthem,tosharerevenue.Playerswouldbe
guaranteedhealthcareanda $50,000minimumsalary.(Most
playersearna lotmore;six-figuresalariesarecommon.)Like
theother 19 teamsnowintheleague,includingsquadsrep-
resentingShanghaiandParis,theFusionwouldbebasedin
Los Angelesforthefirsttwoseasons,playingalltheirgames
attheBlizzardArena,a retrofittedstudioinBurbankwhere
TheTonightShowoncetaped.In 2020 theteamswillrelocate
totheirrespectivehomecities.
Toprepareforthemove,Robertshasbeentryingtoendear
theFusiontoPhillysportsfans,orattheveryleastletfans
knowtheteamexists.Lastseason,Comcastproduceda pro-
motionalvideoinwhichplayersworedogmasks,inthedisqui-
etingtraditionofPhiladelphiaEaglesfans,andspray-painted
theword“Fusion”ona wall.Thenodtovandalismaside,
Fusionsupportersareabnormallywell-behaved,atleastby
thestandardsoftheirhometown.Nobodyhasthrownbatteries
atopponents,orintentionallyvomitedonanyoff-dutypolice
officers,orassaulteda mascot—exploitsthathavebeencredited
toEaglesandPhilliesfans.UnliketheoldVeteransStadium,
FusionArenawillnotcomeequippedwithanin-housejail.
Whatit willhave,it seems,is Gritty—theorange-fuzzed,
googly-eyed, and exhaustively memed mascot of the
Comcast-ownedFlyers.AttheOverwatchseasonopener
onValentine’sDay,fanswentwildwhenGrittyshowed
uptoleadacongalineofFusionvideogameathletesinto
thearena.Gabrielle Egan,a 20-year-old student from
Philadelphia,who’dflowntoLosAngeleswitha friendto
attendtheevent,wasinthespirit.“It’sthecome-from-
behind Philly toughness,” she said. For those fans unable
to make cross-country trips, Comcast has organized meet-
ups at local bars and restaurants that televise the contests.
Comcast has also invested in N3rd Street Gamers LLC,
which runs amateur tournaments in cities across the U.S.
It’s part of a strategy to educate parents about the sport,according to Roberts.
“I think a lot of parents
never played games, never
were a gamer,” he says. “So
there’s been a shift of, like,
‘OhmyGod,GrandTheftAutois thedevil.Videogamesare
rottingyourbrain,’right?Andnowtheconversationhasgone,
‘I don’tunderstandMinecraft, butI’mcurious.’”The Fusion’s current front office is located 25 miles from
Blizzard Arena, in a beachside bungalow in Venice, Calif.,
whose previous tenant was Snapchat. It’s a cozy place with
a well-cultivated sense of geek-chic whimsy. Roberts encour-
ages the staff to wear slippers at work, a tradition he bor-
rowed from South Korea, where e-sports are huge. He’s
partial to a furry, Wookiee-like pair.
In the living room, Roberts shows a visitor a 3D-printed
statue of himself shaking hands with Faker—the nom de
game of Lee Sang-hyeok, a 23-year-old South Korean con-
sidered among the best League of Legends players in the
world. The statue was a present from SK Telecom’s Park,
after his company formed the partnership with Comcast. In
exchange, Roberts gave Park a varsity jacket with the logo
of T1 Entertainment & Sports, their new venture. “He out-
gifted me,” Roberts says with a smile.
Fusion athletes live across town in an Ikea-furnished
eight-bedroom Tudor with a pool, a hot tub, and a treehouse.
On a Monday evening in March, Roberts plops down on a
sofa and joins a group of players watching Fusion University,
the franchise’s minor league team, play on a widescreen TV.
“Dude, we’re stomping it,” he says.
Roberts’s dudely demeanor helps him connect with play-
ers, including Neptuno (aka Alberto Gonzalez Molinillo). “At
the beginning, I didn’t even know much about Comcast,”
says Neptuno, who’s from Spain and at 27 is one of the old-
estmembersoftheFusion.“Ididn’tknowwhoTuckerwas.
I thoughthewasjustanothermemberofthestaff,andI really
likedhim.Someonetoldme,‘No,that’syourboss.’”
The team lives with all the panache of a high school robot-
ics squad; two Fusion athletes, in fact, share a bedroom. The
players rise at about 11 a.m., or “gamer morning,” as they call
it. Lunch is at noon, the first of two daily meals prepared by
the team’s chef, Heidi Marsh, a Minnesotan whose repertoire
includes Cuban sandwiches and pasta with clams. “Italian
goes over really well with these guys,” she says. Lately,“Wedon’thavetocompete
in just one game. We’re
not just talking about, like,
ice hockey, where it’s only
popular in kind of cold
regions. Everybody plays
video games in every single
country, and so that’s going
to continue to be theglue
that connects people”