Marc 'Caedrel' Lamont poses for a portrait in Shoreditch, London, United Kingdom on May 1, 2025.
© Mark Roe/Red Bull Content Pool
esports

How Caedrel turned esports pressure into a career-defining journey

Marc Lamont, better known as Caedrel, is a star of the League of Legends scene. Here, he tells the personal tale of his real-life quest in esports.
By CAEDREL
9 min readPublished on

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"When I got my first computer, I felt independent. I could download and play games, call my friends on Skype. I played League of Legends. I'm competitive and wanted to make a team right away. I went to all the online forums looking for the best players, but nothing ever worked out.
"After a year, I hit top 200 on the LoL ladder online. People began adding me as a friend. They were like, 'Want to join our team? We can't pay you, but can get you a new keyboard, mouse and a mouse mat'. Bro, you can fly me to Madrid to play on a big stage and get me a keyboard and mouse? I actually get rewarded for playing?
"I started to think: 'What if I just keep going up the ladder? What if I get to rank 150 or 100?' For two weeks straight I called into work sick. I was playing 14 hours a day and got into the top 20. Then I got an offer from a team called the Copenhagen Wolves. It wasn't for much money – €700 a month. I thought: 'I can do that.' I had to fly to Berlin, where the team studios were. Then my job called me in and said: 'We had a meeting'. I was like, 'Okay?' They said, 'Yeah, you’re fired'. I had £500 in the bank. My bubble exploded.
I told my parents: 'Give me six months living with you and playing. If it doesn’t work, I'll never touch it again.'
Marc 'Caedrel' Lamont poses for a portrait in Shoreditch, London, United Kingdom on May 1, 2025.

Marc 'Caedrel' Lamont has been a pro Lol player, caster and now team owner

© Mark Roe/Red Bull Content Pool

Career mode: player

"Towards the end of those six months, I got an offer from a German football team called Schalke 04. There had been rumours of all these football teams coming into LoL. They said, "We're going to make a LoL team." It was a second-tier team, but if we won we'd qualify into the Tier One league. They offered me a contract of €3,000 a month. I was being paid in mouse pads, so I was like, 'You don't need to say any more. Perfect!'"
"I flew to Germany and lived in a town called Gelsenkirchen. We practised out of their football stadium, in a tiny room with five computers. We scrimmed [practising competitive matches] and played 12 hours a day for six months. Outside, I could hear football matches: Schalke 04 are playing against Bayern Munich. Don’t care, I have to win my game, play, play, play. We qualified for Tier One and everyone went crazy. 'Oh my God, I've made it", I thought.
"One month later, they said: 'You’re off the team. Because you qualified we're going to invest 10 times more money and buy the best players, so we don't need you any more.'
"I was heartbroken. Then, I got a message from another team: 'You’re out? Come join us. We’re in Tier One as well.' Now, I was earning €100,000 a year. I showed my dad the contract and he said: 'You actually did it.' The problem is, €100,000 a year sounds great, but you can be out in a second.
"I played a role called mid-laner. The mid lane is the centre of the map and everything revolves around you. I was cocky and selfish, so I'd always played as mid-laner. There's a Korean mid-laner called Faker. He's won five world championships and is the greatest player of all time. He was my idol.
"I played in Tier One against the best in Europe, against a player called Caps – the top European mid-laner by far. I thought: 'Wow, this guy's just got it.' I studied every game I played against him and couldn't figure out how to beat him. I thought, 'If I can’t beat Caps, how am I gonna beat Faker?'
"So, three weeks into the first regional heat I went up to my coach and said, 'I don't think I'm good enough.' I packed up and left.

Role swap: jungler

"For two weeks I sat at home, thinking maybe I should retire. I was 21. My parents asked, 'What are you going to do?' I said, 'Role swap. I'm going to become a jungler.' In two months, I took rank one in Europe. It had taken me five years to hit top 200 as a mid-laner.
"Esports is very nepotistic. If you have friends in a team they’ll invite you to join. I don’t have many friends, so it's hard to break in, but when I hit rank one everyone was like, 'Caedrel's back and he's a jungler. Let's get him on our team.' I joined a few to get experience as a jungler, then came back to the same team I'd been a mid-laner for, Schalke 04. They were losing every game, but I wanted to see if I was good enough. I competed for three years as a jungler for a number of teams in Tier One.
"Sadly, I never really won. I couldn't break into the top four, but to this day I feel I could have if I'd had the right people around me. LoL is a game where you need five really strong people. There's not much you can do if the other four are struggling.
"So, in 2020, I thought, 'Am I going to sit here trying for another three years? No, I'm retiring from pro play.' This time I did, but I wasn't done with esports quite yet. During my career people had always said, 'You explained that pretty well', so I put down the mouse and picked up the mic. Instead of competing, I became a caster – a commentator.

Career mode: caster

Marc Lamont presents the Red Bull Worlds Simplified stream in London, United Kingdom on October 31, 2020.

Caedral was a smash when he switched playing for casting

© Marcus Maschwitz/Red Bull Content Pool

"In an arena, there are 20,000 people who can hear your voice as a caster. You're watching the game together. When you scream, they scream. It's electricity and you can feel it. I did that for three years in big venues around the world and it was super fun.
"My favourite moment was at the League of Legends World Championship final in 2022. I'd dreamed of competing in it, now I was going to be the caster. It was at Chase Center in San Francisco and it sold out. Faker was there, trying to get his next world title. It was the most intense finals ever.
"The score was 2-2, fifth game decides everything. A hectic 50-minute back and forth. Faker's team is losing – the enemy team has just killed them all and they’re going to take the Baron. If they get it, they win. The Baron is a game-defining objective. The team who kill it become insanely powerful – you get bonus stats, experience, attack damage... every stat in the game. But it's whoever deals the final blow to the Baron that gets all that.
"All five of Faker's rivals were attacking the Baron, but one of Faker’s team was alive: Gumayusi. And he's the marksman. He was walking up to the Baron – one against five – and charging his arrow. It's called 'charging his Q' [because you hold down Q on the keyboard]. He fired blind and got the last hit. It's called 'stealing Baron'. Everyone lost their minds.
"The fans are screaming and the guy next to me – a very famous caster called Kobe [Sam Hartman- Kenzler] – throws a water bottle behind him and hits someone on the head. I shout, 'What the f**k?' on the broadcast. I believe that's the only f-bomb ever dropped in a world final.
"In 2023, after three years, I stopped casting. Streaming had become a big deal and I had 10,000 people watching me, so I became a full-time streamer. Now, I have this really big community of Twitch streamers tuning in.

Career mode: team boss

"At the end of 2024, I was kind of bored. I'd dreamed of coaching. I was a really good player and good at explaining things, so felt I could teach the game. The problem is, coaches don't make that much money. You can earn a lot from streaming and casting, but I'd have to give that up. You can't coach in front of people – they'd know your strategies.
"'Okay, but what if I do that anyway?' I thought. 'Make my own team and livestream it. If you want to beat us, you can see our plans'.
"So, I started a team, Los Ratones, and began coaching in front of everyone. We stream all of our games. If you're a fan, you can watch Caedrel and his team, hear their plans and how they approach the game. For a player, you never got that before – teams would show up, play and go home. The biggest taboo in esports was the need to keep it behind closed doors. I broke the door.
At the Red Bull League of Its Own in Paris, France, Los Ratones celebrate at their gaming station on December 16, 2024, with the vibrant arena crowd and dynamic lights behind .

Caedrel and co. celebrate during Red Bull League of its Own 2024

© Baptiste Fauchille/Red Bull Content Pool

I started a team, Los Ratones, and began coaching in front of everyone. We stream all of our games. If you're a fan, you can watch Caedrel and his team, hear their plans and how they approach the game
Marc 'Caedral' Lamont
We're in Tier Two, but so far we've won everything. Others were like, 'We’ll try it too', but all the streaming coaches have lost against us. We went to Copenhagen and played in front of 3,000 people. I put my stream on and said: 'Hey guys, be right back. I've gotta run on stage'.
"I always think. 'If I didn't role swap to jungler all that time ago, what would my future look like? What if I hadn't retired as a pro player?' I still had offers from good teams. Would I have turned it around? My life has a lot of what ifs, but I took a leap of faith. Instead of getting stuck in a loop, I found ways to reinvent myself. Maybe in three years I'll do something else. Maybe I'll create my own league where streamers can come together and compete.
"My mum watches every game now. She's a big fan of the team. I always get her T-shirts. At night, she opens up my stream and messages me, all caps: 'WELL DONE. XXX.' My dad still doesn't get it, but he had good intentions in trying to make me get qualifications. Around 2022, he sat me down and said, 'Good job. I was wrong.'