I learned Hachispin.

I loved Hachispin.

I lived for Hachispin.

Hachispin was my first opener. It is on that fateful day that I saw Wumbotize, best Tetris player in the world, use the Hachispin: an elegant T-Spin Single to T-Spin Triple and finally a Perfect Clear, sending a whopping 20 lines in total. It was unbelievable. I immediately perused the comment section, praying that it would hold the name of this mind-blowing technique.

Hachispin.

Reading the name sent shivers down my spine. From that point onwards, I became enraptured with the Hachispin. I memorized the Perfect Clear continuations. I opened games with it whenever possible. I flexed on my friends, who could not even begin to comprehend even a fraction of this stacking phenomenon’s magnificence. Hachispin brought me joy, and I am sure that I brought joy to Hachispin.

But then Garbocan\_ attacked.

Garbocan\_ was famous for anti-Hachispin propaganda. He used his Twitter as a means to berate Hachispin and its lovers. Reading his Twitter, I felt inferior; my mind was clouded with humiliation. My heart sank, as I took in his intricately crafted insults. The opener that he constantly compared Hachispin to was Albatross. “Albatross is Hachispin but not trash”, he would say. “It opens with a T-Spin Double instead of a T-Spin Single,” he would continue. “There is absolutely no reason to use Hachispin over Albatross.”

For the first time in my life, I felt doubt towards the Hachispin. Could there really be an opener even more brilliant than Hachispin? The arguments he made seemed valid to the newbie player that I was. Not to mention, it was clear that Garbocan\_ was a great Tetris player himself, boasting a consistent 85 APM on Jstris at the time, compared to the measly 40 APM player that I was. I reluctantly searched up the opener by the name of Albatross, and tried it out. It was difficult. The starting pieces are similar, but they are arranged in almost the complete opposite way. I kept mixing them up, but I was determined to become a better player. By this point, I had been entirely convinced that Albatross was the answer.

Months passed.

During these months, I did not use Hachispin a single time. Not only was I completely consumed by the Albatross, I was also taken over by the toxic mindset that Garbocan\_ taught. I sneered upon Hachispin users and their puny T-Spin Singles; their first attack was not able to harm me at all. It was clear that I was at an all time low.

However, holes started appearing in the seemingly perfect sculpture of Albatross. Sometimes when I played against Hachispin users, they would be able to complete their PC, even after I sent garbage to them. In addition, I was told that Albatross had a 100% PC chance, but this PC chance actually only presents itself when the I piece is placed flat in the second bag, an occurrence that only appears roughly 60% of the time itself. When I wondered what to do when the continuation of Greedbatross was not possible, Garbocan\_ shared his answer: “I just waste T.”

The more I used Albatross, the more that these flaws became apparent, along with the subpar board state that Albatross brings most of the time, the copious amount of soft dropping needed to execute it, and the chance of a garbage hole ruining Albatross right at the start. I started to wonder if making the switch was worth it at all.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was a player named Kirigo. Upon entering the sacred land of #70-100 in the Tetris Matchmaking Central Discord, I met Kirigo in-game for the first time. Kirigo was a Hachispin user. The old me would have scorned him in false superiority, but by then, the brainwashing of the Albatross had already started to wear off. The game started. An SZO bag. Albatross and Hachispin were pit against each other. I cranked out the Albatross at my top speed of 3pps, while Kirigo set up his Hachispin, but with a twist. Kirigo delayed his first T-Spin Single by setting up the T-Spin Triple above it so he could execute both of them in quick succession. Before I could realize what was happening, Kirigo received the mountain of clean garbage that I just sent. It was too late. The bar beside my board became filled with red. I stared at the screen in disbelief and denial. Surely, this was a matter of luck.

It was not.

In the ft10 that we played, Kirigo fullscreened me with Hachispin another 11 times, setting the score to a whopping 12-0. I sank to my knees on the cold, grainy battlefield. The wind howled solemnly. Thunder crackled. The crunching of footsteps became louder, and Kirigo stood above me.

“Why don’t you use the Hachispin?”

I lifted my head.

Kirigo continued. “I can see your potential in your play. I can also tell that you’ve once followed the same path as I. So why did you abandon the Hachispin?”

“But, but,” I stuttered. “Albatross can send a T-Spin Double in the first bag instead of a T-Spin Single. It’s just Hachispin but stronger.” I repeated the words that Garbocan\_ pounded into my head, but the words echoed hollowly.

Kirigo shook his head. “The point of the opener is not to send as many lines as possible. It is not to immediately top your opponent out, nay! It is correct that the first bag of Albatross can send two more lines than Hachispin. But at what cost? Albatross itself is a risk. It leaves you with a bad board state at almost every turn. It has a chance of completely failing with an unlucky garbage hole. It has countless different continuations that entirely depend on the pieces you get in queue, some of which force a wasted T. It rhymes with ‘loss.’ Is there anything more I must say?”


Suddenly, the clouds cleared, and a ray of sunlight pierced into my eye. It was true. In my pursuit of strength, a higher APM, I lost sight of the true purpose of the opener: to swiftly transition oneself to the midgame. A single tear rolled down my left cheek. The doubt was no more.

I joined a rehabilitation facility known as “hachi spin fan club,” and slowly started to build myself back up. My past still haunts me sometimes; I build Hachispin on the wrong side, or use the L piece when I should use the J piece, or continue the PC pattern incorrectly, but of course, I have to start somewhere. “hachi spin fan club” is filled with supportive and like-minded Hachispin lovers, who will support me along the way.

My struggles with Albatross have only made me stronger, and fortified my sense of self. During my time with the unreliable, risky Albatross, I felt completely lost, contrary to how I feel with the trustworthy, secure Hachispin. Although I once abandoned the Hachispin, Hachispin still accepted me, forgave me, and trusted that I would find it again. Instead of hate, like Albatross and its ambassador, Hachispin spreads love. Unlike before, I can Hachispin with confidence, and pride.

I am a Hachispin user, and I am proud.