He drives a Bimmer. He attracts the ladies. He's got sponsors. He trains hard. He plays harder. He's 21.
No, he's not in the NBA.
"Ksharp" -- aka Kyle Miller -- is a full-time professional computer game player.
For four years now, often sprawled in the comfy basement of his parents' Reston home, Miller has consistently dominated Counter-Strike, an online shooter game whose 2.8 million active players generate more monthly Internet traffic than all of Italy. His wins in international tournaments have brought him fan mail from teenagers in China and instant recognition whenever he plays in South Korea. Ksharp is a virtual celebrity in the burgeoning world of "e-sports," where the pool of tournament cash prizes can reach $500,000. Sponsors include Intel, Samsung and, most recently, the makers of Tylenol. "There can be a lot of physical pain involved in a tech activity like gaming: muscle strains, backaches," says Kathy Fallon, a spokeswoman for Tylenol's maker.
So far Miller, who's competing in the World Cyber Games in Singapore next month, isn't hurting. He is one of about two dozen elite professional gamers in the United States -- mostly young men in their early twenties -- who make their living playing video games.
"Whenever someone asks me, 'Oh, what do you do for work?' I just kinda shy away. Then the person asks again, and I'm, like, 'I play video games.' Then the person goes, 'No, I mean what do you for an actual job?' And I say, again, 'I play video games. It is a job,' " says Miller. He is taking a dinner break and chowing down on Buffalo wings at a Chili's near his home. CS, shorthand for Counter-Strike, earns him $40,000 to $60,000 a year -- mostly from sponsorships, some of it prize money, exactly how much in total he won't say. Given that he still lives with his parents, it's certainly enough to cover the $500 monthly payment for his white BMW 325i.
"When I first told my parents that playing CS is like going to work, they kinda laughed at me," he says. "But you know, that is what it is. If I don't play CS, I don't get paid."
It's a Tuesday, about 6:30 p.m.
"We should probably go," he says. "I gotta be at work by 7."
In Training
This is the working life of a pro gamer: From Sundays to Thursdays, between 7 and 11 p.m., the man they call Ksharp slouches in front of his 19-inch computer monitor, feet up in the chair. He is almost six feet tall and thin, with blue eyes and carefully gelled blond hair. To him, "online practices" are akin to "football scrimmages," except his uniform is usually T-shirts and cargo shorts. "I can do whatever I want during the day," he says. That means going to the gym, offering computer help to his older sisters, who run their own businesses, and, "as a time-killer outside of work," playing games such as World of Warcraft or the new X-Men.
Aiming to be a hotshot professional gamer is like a schoolyard basketball player wishing to be the next NBA superstar LeBron James. It's no simple walk around the Xbox. "You have your average player who's into the game, you have your hard-core player who's really into the game, then you have your pro gamer. It's a whole different level -- the practices, the competitions, the stress," he says matter-of-factly.
"Being in a relationship with him is kind of hectic," says Miller's girlfriend, Kate Harter, who goes to the University of Wisconsin in Platteville. Their long-distance relationship of 10 months started at a game tournament in New York City. "He travels. A lot. And he can't really visit me too often," she complains, "because the Internet in my house isn't all that good."
