Ukrainian StarCraft legend Oleksii White-Ra Krupnyk gave an extensive interview to the Players portal. In the second part of the interview, we talked about how Oleksii joined Twitch and what he did there, as well as discussing the war in Ukraine and his volunteer activities.
How did you get into Twitch, and what did you do there?
This is a very interesting story. When StarCraft II was released, I happened to win several major international tournaments in a row — three consecutive wins. I quickly grasped the game's dynamics, realizing how cool and simpler it was compared to Brood War. I understood that this was the perfect time to defeat the Koreans and remind them of all those past battles.
In 2010, a tournament was organized — Team Korea vs. Team World. From Ukraine, it was me and Dimaga, along with many players from other countries. At the time, there was a Protoss player named MC, a two-time StarCraft II world champion, playing for Korea. He arrived like a true star — there were two-tiered benches like in stadiums, where substitutes wait for their turn to play. He had a full-sized photo of himself, basically showing that he was going to destroy everyone. He defeated one of our players. The match format was 8 vs. 8, where one player could potentially eliminate all eight opponents. Each game counted as one win, and the score was 3-2 in our favor.
MC then beat TT1, and the commentator said: "Oleksii, I know your PvP is strong. You have to take him down because if you don’t, he’ll eliminate all of us." I said, "Alright, let's do this." The match was intense, fast-paced, and tough. At that time, I was practically unbeatable thanks to special tactics and Warp Prism drops. I dropped Zealots into his base, disrupted his economy, barely defended against his push, and managed to win. I playfully made a thumbs-down gesture and a motion as if cutting my throat — it was all in good fun.
The show match continued, but we ultimately lost 8-7 — just one game short. Dimaga won one game but lost the final one. Still, that match gave me a lot of exposure. At the time, platforms like Justin.tv and Own3d.tv existed. A friend suggested I start streaming, and I chose Own3d.tv. Thanks to Amoureux and Hydra, I set up my first stream, and to my surprise, around 15,000 viewers showed up right away.
Later, my Canadian Protoss friend TT1 introduced me to Kevin Lin, the co-founder of Justin.tv (which later became Twitch). Kevin said, "Oleksii, let’s work together. We’ll give you a partnership deal so you can earn from ads. We know who you are." I replied, "Let’s give it a shot."
Interestingly, the first tournament ever sponsored by Justin.tv (which later evolved into Twitch) was the Justin.tv SC Invitational for Brood War. They provided a $1,000 prize pool — a big sum in 2009. I managed to win that tournament, beating a young MaNa 4-3. I was leading 3-0, he tied it 3-3, and I told myself, "I need to focus." I was playing from Korea at the time, won the fourth match, and took first place.
That tournament was also when I did my first-ever live stream from Korea on Justin.tv. I ran a couple of ads, streamed for 2-3 hours, and earned $500. At that moment, I realized that I would have paid money myself just for the chance to work live — broadcasting in real-time instead of recording videos and promoting my sponsors directly. Before that, I wrote educational articles, gave interviews, and made tutorial videos on various portals. I didn’t even run my own YouTube channel back then — people paid me for content. But now, with streaming, thousands of viewers would tune in, and I wouldn’t have to train as hard or grind for a tournament prize pool. I could just sit back, have fun, stream, and work with sponsors. I knew this was the future.
Later, when we met in Atlantic City for the first-ever Twitch streamer meetup, Kevin introduced me to Justin Kan, another Twitch co-founder. That’s when they officially invited me to work as a consultant. StarCraft II was booming, millions of viewers were coming to the platform, and Twitch needed more StarCraft II streamers. They asked me to explain to players how streaming worked and what benefits they could get. Within a month, almost all the top players had joined Justin.tv. We couldn't bring in many Koreans because they had their own favorite platform, AfreecaTV, but outside of Korea, we signed up nearly everyone.
At some point, Own3d.tv approached me, saying, "Oleksii, work with us instead." But I told them, "Sorry, I’ve already made a deal with Justin.tv. Where were you before? You saw how many viewers I had."
That’s how I started working with Justin.tv, and in the early days, I played a significant role in its growth. StarCraft II became super popular, then Dota 2 was released with its first The International featuring a $1 million grand prize, which NAVI won. I still remember V1lat’s emotional casting and Zerogravity’s active support for the team.
Twitch became the leading platform for esports, attracting tens of millions of viewers. Eventually, in 2014, Amazon bought Twitch for nearly $1 billion. They wanted me to move full-time to San Francisco to receive company stock.
I first visited the Justin.tv office in 2011 after BlizzCon. The company was still small at the time. That day, CEO Emmett Shear was leading a meeting about reducing stream latency. They introduced me, welcomed me to the team, and even applauded — it was a great feeling to be warmly received. That evening, we streamed from the office, played show matches, and many StarCraft fans stopped by in person. It was such an open and friendly atmosphere—just an amazing first visit to San Francisco.
Did you move to the U.S?
No, I didn’t move because I was still playing. My mission has always been — and still is — to promote a healthy lifestyle in esports. I’m an idealist in that sense. I advocate for the growth of both esports and streaming because they have a strong social aspect — people find friends, meet like-minded individuals, and build communities. In my opinion, that’s incredibly important.
Of course, there’s a lot of money in the industry now, which is great, but I believe in giving back to the community and streamers more. Over the years, I’ve managed to teach thousands of streamers the skills I had — how things work, the rules, and many other aspects. It was a massive and challenging job.
From October 2011 to August 2023, I worked at Twitch and helped the company grow. I see it as an important chapter in my life — I gained a lot of experience, but most importantly, I know and feel that I helped many streamers and the community that watched them.
What position did you hold at Twitch?
At first, I was a consultant. Then I became the Partnership Lead for the CIS region. Later, when I moved to Germany in October 2020 — right in the middle of the COVID pandemic and before the war began — I was appointed Strategic Partnership Manager.
Twitch is currently the number one platform, but it often gets criticized for its rules. What’s your take on that?
When they first implemented these rules, they didn’t ask for my opinion. Back in 2015 or so, they placed me in a problematic region, and I was working in Eastern Europe. When this happened, I told them: "Guys, this is unrealistic. Someone might slip up and say a P-word or an N-word accidentally, without any ill intent, and you’ll immediately ban them for a month. You don’t understand—this is people’s livelihood. It’s their job, their lifestyle, their income. Many of them are feeding their families. This kind of punishment for a single misplaced word is excessive.”
They didn’t listen, and then the bans started rolling in—one month for this person, one month for that one—and naturally, it caused a huge wave of negativity. I tried to discuss it with management because, obviously, we weren’t going to fight over it. They still didn’t listen, and eventually, the backlash was so strong that they reduced the bans to two weeks. Their response was that it was the streamers’ and community managers’ fault for not properly communicating the rules. But the reality is that different regions perceive words differently, and cultural contexts matter. That said, a company must have uniform rules for all regions, so I understood their point of view as well.
In the end, they reduced all bans to just one week, but I fully understood how painful it was for streamers. These are people who have built up their channels, brought in audiences, and then suddenly get banned over a single word. Of course, I wasn’t happy about it. I had to deal with a lot of negativity myself, which was very unpleasant.
I was generally on the side of the partners, but I still had to defend the company’s interests. Sometimes, it felt like being caught between a rock and a hard place. Every issue requires balance, but in this case, there wasn’t much of it. Many of these decisions were made by managers who had never streamed in their lives. They had never competed in esports, never participated in tournaments—they were just corporate people who lived inside their own bubble. They didn’t have a broad perspective on the community or understand the damage their decisions caused to people’s lives.
I could say a lot more, but I won’t. Unfortunately, many of their decisions had a profoundly negative impact on the careers of countless streamers.
I wanted to talk more about your streams because, as I’ve heard, they had a very heartfelt atmosphere. What did interacting with your audience mean to you? Was it more about connecting with fans or attracting people to the stream for sponsorships and ads?
First and foremost, it was about communication. The guys know you, you know them—the community. We met many times at tournaments, and that connection brings real enjoyment. While you’re playing, people give advice, discuss your in-game decisions, and every move you make gets reflected in the chat. You get instant feedback, which is both satisfying and helps promote a competitive mindset in gaming. No need to argue — just approach bad situations with a smile. Lost? No big deal, there are ten more games ahead. The more you lose, the more experience you gain, and you use that — more gg, more skill.
Sponsorships come in third place. They provide valuable tools for working with advertisers. Reputation and viewership numbers matter to sponsors, and that opens up many opportunities. You engage with your community, bring in new people, promote sponsors, and test out new ideas — it’s a win-win situation.
I really regret that this wasn’t possible back in 2000 when I was just starting with StarCraft, competing in tournaments, winning prize money, and traveling across Europe. For example, until 2014, I frequently went to russia, mainly moscow, to compete in tournaments until around 2009. After that, I participated in show matches, expos like "ИгроМир," organized gaming events, and took work trips to tournaments like Epicenter and Riot events. I competed in the Asus Cup tournament series around 8 or 9 times, finishing second place seven times and first place once. Their Terrans were really strong back then — consistency.
You mentioned that when you started your career, there was a special atmosphere in your computer club — those who couldn’t play would sit behind you and watch. Did streaming feel similar, just with people watching and commenting instead of sitting behind you?
It felt like being in a stadium. When 10,000 people are watching your stream, you can feel their energy — it motivates you to click faster, crack jokes, and recall old stories. The audience loves hearing all kinds of stories, inside scoops, and interesting topics, so of course, you engage with them.
Back in the day, when we played in clubs and at tournaments, crowds would gather behind us because there were no replays. We had to download VODs and wait a day or two just to see how the Koreans played, using all kinds of software to watch and learn from them.
Now, you have everything — replays, livestreams, whatever you need. It’s much easier to improve quickly. Back then, we didn’t have that, so we relied on real-life conversations. We’d sit together for hours, discussing strategies — what to do, how to do it. Everyone’s eyes were glowing with excitement, smiling, hyped to train and test out new strats. It’s hard to put that feeling into words. Things are much more convenient now, but that raw passion and in-person connection were something special.
When the internet became more widespread, there was a surge in negativity and hate. How did you handle it — did you just ignore it?
You have to explain to people when they’re wrong. But to really understand this, you need to look deeper into upbringing. In real life, if you start talking negatively about someone who isn’t there, you’ll have to answer for your words. You’re always responsible for what you say. But on the internet, it’s easy — you're sitting somewhere in another city, another country, and it takes zero effort to insult someone.
People who lash out like that are usually miserable themselves. They hate everything and everyone, especially those who have achieved something, live better, or have done something good for others. I honestly feel sorry for them — mostly guys, but some girls too — because they’re only harming themselves. Karma is real, and it catches up sooner or later.
The key factor here is upbringing. If someone’s being hateful, you should try to explain why they shouldn’t act that way. And if that doesn’t work — there’s always the ban button. There were a few haters even within the StarCraft community, including some pro players. But when I met them in real life, I told them straight-up: “You’re making us all look bad. People will judge all StarCraft players based on your behavior. You’re letting us down. Please stop, or we’re gonna have a problem.” A lot of them got the message.
You’re very active in volunteering. Can you talk about your efforts? What kind of support do you provide?
How can I not be involved when the enemy has come to your land to kill, destroy, and devastate? I think you have to be completely out of your mind to ignore this, not understand it, and not help — at least humanitarian experts, your family, friends, relatives, or at least the guys you know who are fighting.
It all started in 2014 when many refugees began arriving from Donetsk, Luhansk regions, and, of course, from Crimea. After the annexation of Crimea, many Ukrainian military families left, and it so happened that we got to know officers, became friends. Since then, I had been helping mostly families and guys, but not that much. On February 24, 2022, my wife woke me up early in the morning, around 8 a.m., shaking me: “Oleksii, wake up, the war has begun.” And I had just had a great dinner the night before, drank a bottle of wine, made a nice meal, and said: “What? What happened?” I looked — missiles hitting Kyiv, Odesa, all over Ukraine. And I thought, damn idiots, excuse my language, how could they do this? I jumped up and said: “Alright, then we’ll be helping.” I called some military guys I knew—they had been discharged, retired, and that same day they went to re-enlist. I called my nephew, who was serving in the border forces, and he told me that their unit was being contacted, offered to surrender. I said: “Alright, we’ll do something, we’ll help.”
I asked about the needs—there was a huge shortage of body armor, helmets, tourniquets. I went to a store, bought tactical gear, absolutely everything possible that was needed. My wife came, bought two helmets, paid 70 euros for them — Kevlar, used, but better than steel. Later, they simply disappeared from sale, and when they appeared again, they cost 250-300 euros. It was incredible to see — every military store here in Berlin was swarmed by Ukrainians like locusts, and this was before many had even evacuated from the war. People were buying things, rushing around, and very quickly, everything was gone. We had to look for supplies online, figure things out.
And here, our StarCraft community helped a lot—streamers, gamers, friends. It’s worth mentioning Oleh Krot — he organized KSL [Kyiv StarCraft League] and is the co-founder of WePlay. I’ve known him for many years, and he helped us tremendously. Thanks to his help, in 2022, we bought around 50 vehicles, 121 bulletproof vests, about 50 helmets here in Europe, and many other essential things — thermal imaging cameras, scopes, tactical gear — a huge amount, and that was just from one person. And their Techiya Foundation, in the first weeks, delivered 5,000 bulletproof vests and helmets to Ukraine, supplying our guys. There was an offensive in the south, Kherson was occupied, and they were pushing to capture Mykolaiv. We worked mostly with our marines, helping to ensure Odesa wouldn’t be blockaded from the sea. Now, we are working with all units. We organized everything very quickly, and the guys would take our vests, helmets, and after coming out of battle, they would pass their gear to others because many had nothing, and the country was unprepared for war — thanks to Zelensky and his office. That’s the only thing I can criticize him for. But respect to him for not running away, for staying in Kyiv, for not being afraid. For that, he deserves respect.
Yes, we are still helping. The only hard part is losing guys — those who once sent video messages thanking us for our help, and now they are gone, s well as my nephew, who died at the age of 21 defending Ukraine, a very heavy loss for our family, he grew up before your eyes, was like a son to me. A lot of StarCraft players are fighting on our side in the international battalion. We don’t have the right to give up.
For example, the exhumation of victims in the city of Izium, which was liberated in September 2022, was recently completed. The city was under occupation for several months. The statistics are shocking. There were even more civilian women than men — 194 men’s bodies, 215 women’s, 22 military personnel, 5 children, and the gender of 11 bodies remains unidentified. Many of the deceased had missing limbs, shrapnel wounds, head injuries, wounded or missing genitals, and through gunshot wounds in the neck.
The Gestapo did not do what the russians have done. And this is only what has been found — how many people were taken to russia, how many children were kidnapped, how many graves remain undiscovered? The city had a population of 48,000 — this means that for every 90 people, one was tortured. And this is just what we know, and it is the same everywhere, in all the occupied parts of Ukraine.
They were unlucky that the world found out about what happened in Bucha, Irpin, Hostomel because they fled too quickly and did not have time to hide their crimes. But we know what happened. We know that in Mariupol, tens of thousands of people died, and even more are still missing. This is genocide of the Ukrainian people. Such things must never happen. And whether one wants to help or not, help must be given. And I know that we have helped tens of thousands of our fighters and will continue to do so because this is our land, our people. We are not helping the authorities; we are helping the people.
Do you collaborate with foundations, or do you help personally? How does it work?
My friend and I have a foundation called Honor, but we also work with various other foundations. I personally don’t run fundraisers. I reach out to the guys who do and tell them there’s a specific request from the fighters. And we don’t work with those in the rear — we focus on the guys who urgently need help. You could say we work on a micro level rather than a macro level, but exactly where it’s needed — where the guys are in the thick of it, on the front lines. That’s the priority because they need support right now. The difference between our work and that of large foundations is that we organize everything as quickly as possible and minimize bureaucracy, because bureaucracy is extremely harmful to urgent assistance.
I reach out to our community, to our patrons, and tell them what’s needed, and people help — they join the fundraiser, pay for things themselves. Thanks to StarCraft and streaming, a lot of foreigners also contribute and ask what’s needed. I send them a list and say: “Here, guys, choose what you can help with.” They pick something, I give them an address, and they pay for the purchase — most often through Amazon. Power stations are always needed, flashlights too. We don’t take tourniquets or tactical vests anymore — that’s no longer necessary. What we need now is anything related to energy — drones, for example. They buy and ship the items to the address I provide. Everything gets delivered, the guys receive it, report back, and people can see exactly where their help is going. I’m really glad because everything is passed directly from hand to hand. Not through some foundation like the Red Cross or other shady organizations where you don’t know what’s really happening — it’s direct, no middlemen.
Of course, I wish we could help even more, but we do what we can. I’m neither a politician nor a businessman, and I put a lot of effort into this, but I know why I’m doing it — to keep our country from falling into chaos. We’ll deal with our own corrupt officials ourselves. The last thing we need is maniacs ruling over us.
Is it difficult to convey the right information to the English-speaking community? Because we know that russia is heavily engaged in propaganda. I spoke with a Ukrainian representative of the League of Legends community who plays for a European team. He talked to his European teammates and said that he had to explain a lot to them, as things were completely different from how they saw them on the internet.
People are like that — they always need explanations. I was lucky because most of my followers are StarCrafters, who are quite intellectually developed and mature, not young kids. There’s nothing to explain to them — they understand everything perfectly and support me 100%. Smart people don’t need explanations, and with dumb people, it’s better not to explain anything either, because you’ll just waste your time and let them drain your energy. I explained the situation once — there’s the internet, there’s logical thinking, and there’s plenty of information available.
Television? What, are we living in the Soviet Union with three channels? I remember watching TV only when the show Visiting a Fairy Tale aired on Sundays. They’d show Robin Hood, and the next day, we’d all be running around outside with bows and swords. That was our kind of entertainment. TV deceives people — it treats them like cattle. And in our country, things aren’t that great either. Everything’s fine, everything’s perfect — especially if you listen to bloggers, they all lie shamelessly. If there’s any truth, it’s just 10% — the russian government needs to keep the herd locked up. The less a person knows, the easier it is to maintain power.
So sometimes you have to explain, to lay out the simplest things, like 2+2=4. But then someone will come and say, No, 2+2=5. What’s the point of arguing with that person? Better not to waste your energy.
I can argue with anyone — let them try to justify their nonsense to me. Why did russia decide to attack Ukraine? A “special military operation”? What the f*** are you talking about? It’s a full-scale war, plain and simple. What other armed conflict has been this intense since World War II? We've already surpassed the Vietnam War’s casualties ten times over. russia has lost 50 times more soldiers than in the entire Afghan war. What is there to discuss?
Look at the so-called “liberators” and what they’ve done to dozens of cities — Mariupol, Soledar, Bakhmut. These are things I don’t even feel the need to argue about. When you know you’re right, why waste time proving it?
What advice would you give to young esports players? What should they focus on when building their careers?
First of all, many people will try to discourage you, saying you don’t need this, that you shouldn’t waste your time. But if you want to try — go for it. Play for six months, a year, maybe two. It’s better to try than to blame yourself later for not giving it a shot.
You need to motivate yourself. You need to understand why you’re playing and what goals you’re setting for yourself. Persistence and training are key. The one who wins is the one who understands the game better and has superior mechanics. Micro-control needs to be trained, and strategies must be studied. If it’s StarCraft, you should know what each unit is used for. If it’s a MOBA game, you should understand skills, items, and artifacts and when to use them at different stages.
Developing teamwork is also crucial. It’s very important to communicate with like-minded players about games and skill development. Maybe someone will notice your mistakes. Don’t be afraid to listen to criticism. If something isn’t working, analyze it, adapt, and listen to your teammates' advice.
That’s the simple recipe. And, of course, believe in your abilities. If things don’t work out—no big deal. You’ll still gain experience, and there’s always the option to work in a gaming-related field— as a designer, a developer, or something else.
How do you see your future in 5-10 years?
That’s a tough question. I’ll try to keep helping the community and people in general. I know my mission in this life — to help others — but now in a way that doesn’t harm me. The more you help, the more your energy drains. You end up feeling like a squeezed lemon. You need to stay energized all the time, so finding balance is important.
Right now, I’m working with friends on a new product called Lurkz. It’s about connecting users inside Telegram. I’d say it’s a game changer for content creators and investors. We’ll be using Web3 technologies, and there’s a lot of interesting stuff planned. But you’ll need some patience — the release is set for Q1 2025.
I’d also like to write a book. I’d call it "More GG — More Skill." It would be about the evolution of esports and streaming, covering the events I was part of, with insider stories — both fun and not-so-fun ones — the challenges, and a comparison of how esports and streaming have developed over the years. I think it would be really interesting. I’ve already spoken with a Ukrainian publisher, and there’s a business plan in place. Now I need to build a team. I’m also in talks with international publishers. Everything takes time, but the community is asking for it, and I’m sure the book will be exciting.
Other than that, I’d love to build a house somewhere deep in the woods, far away from people, and just live there (laughs). As long as I have good internet, I’d be happy gaming.
Can we expect your return as a streamer?
Of course! The community keeps messaging me: “Oleksii, please, start streaming again.” I really love cooking — it gives me a dopamine boost. I enjoy seeing people happy. So maybe I’d set up a small studio and start streaming again, maybe even a cooking show. Right now, I’m building a new PC. Some friends from different companies I used to work with sent me a bunch of parts as a New Year’s gift. I bought the missing components myself. I put everything together, and it actually booted up on the first try — just had to swap the RAM. Now I just need to set up Windows, and I’ll be back to gaming.
I might start streaming again because I’ve been talking to the Ukrainian StarCraft: Brood War community. I recently supported a small tournament — not a huge prize pool, but $500 meant a lot for the guys who are currently out of work. Eight players competed, and I believe in supporting the community I came from. So we might start streaming those tournaments. I also play 4v4 games with friends, and that could be fun to stream too. A lot of international viewers keep asking about it.
Back when I used to stream, about 15% of my audience was European, and 80% was from the U.S. I’m not sure why I was so much more well-known in the States — maybe because I competed in a lot of StarCraft II tournaments there. But I’d love to keep growing in this direction. After all, I’ve been representing the Ukrainian flag on the international stage since the early 2000s. Even now, whether I’m playing a match or giving an interview, the Ukrainian flag is always right next to me.
Everyone loves old-school esports stories. Can you share a funny or interesting one?
I’ll never forget this one tournament in Kryvyi Rih. It was a two-day event — on the first day, we played all our matches, and by the second day, only four or five players were left, including me. The guys who got eliminated decided to go out and party, so they hit up some local nightclub.
Now, our team was just a bunch of skinny nerds — like 12 of us in total. This was around 1999 or 2000. One of our guys got drunk and started hitting on the local girls. Naturally, the local gang didn’t like that, so they dragged him outside. We step out, and there are like 20 of them, all looking furious.
I knew how these club situations go — things were about to get ugly, and we were definitely outmatched. I quickly figured out who the leader was and said, “Guys, look, this dude is just upset — he lost in StarCraft. He traveled from another city for this tournament, got knocked out, and now he’s acting out. Try to understand his situation.”
Someone in the crowd went, “Wait, there’s an international tournament going on here? People came from different cities to play StarCraft?” And then they asked, “So, are you guys any good at it?”
One thing led to another, and instead of fighting, I suggested, “Why don’t we just go have some drinks instead?” And just like that, the conflict was settled.
