Dyrus Says He Never Received Salary at Team SoloMid

Marcus “Dyrus” Hill remains one of the most beloved and influential figures in North American League of Legends history. Known for his stoic personality, dry humor, and dedication on the Rift, Dyrus spent the majority of his career as Team SoloMid’s starting top laner, helping shape the early identity of both the LCS and the TSM brand.

But years after retiring, Dyrus revealed a surprising truth about his time with the team: despite competing at the highest levels, winning domestic titles, and representing North America at multiple World Championships, he never received a salary from TSM management.

I Lived Off Streaming and Prize Money

Speaking candidly in response to fan questions on Twitter, Dyrus explained that his income as a professional did not come from TSM paychecks but from personal initiatives. “I lived on streaming revenue and prize winnings. Back then, Riot Games didn’t allocate funds for maintaining rosters. By the time franchising came in, I had already lost interest in the game,” Dyrus said. This revelation is a stark reminder of how esports operated in the early 2010s. Organizations often had limited budgets, and professional players relied heavily on platforms like Twitch (then Justin.tv) to make ends meet. Prize money, though prestigious, was inconsistent, meaning a bad tournament run could mean little or no income.When Dyrus joined TSM in 2012, the organization was still growing its reputation. Founded by Andy “Reginald” Dinh, TSM was one of the most recognizable brands in North America, built around its content house, constant fan engagement, and scrappy but determined rosters.

Dyrus quickly became a core part of the team’s identity. His personality resonated with fans: a quiet, almost introverted player who let his gameplay speak for itself. As the scene expanded, Dyrus embodied the sacrifices that early esports athletes made—long practice hours, relentless travel, and little financial stability. Despite the lack of a guaranteed salary, his loyalty to TSM lasted over five years. During this time, he: Won multiple NA LCS championships (including the unforgettable 2014 Summer Split where TSM overcame Cloud9).

Represented North America at the World Championships three times. Became a defining figure of TSM’s brand alongside Bjergsen, Reginald, and WildTurtle. The fact that he accomplished all this without financial security speaks volumes about the passion-driven foundation of esports during that period.In contrast, today’s LCS looks very different. With franchising introduced in 2018, Riot Games required teams to pay players minimum salaries, backed by revenue-sharing and league support. This institutional framework created stability, allowing players to sign contracts worth hundreds of thousands—and for star players, even millions—per year. But when Dyrus played, the infrastructure simply wasn’t there. Riot covered tournament operations and prize pools, but organizations had to self-finance rosters. Many lacked the sponsorship depth to guarantee consistent salaries, and instead leaned on players’ personal streaming brands to generate income.

This meant that legends like Dyrus, who helped build the LCS into what it is today, often played more for passion, pride, and opportunity than financial reward.To understand the scale of change, consider the current environment: A mid-level LCS starter today can earn $300,000 to $500,000 per year in base salary. Top-tier names, like Doublelift or Bjergsen in their primes, signed contracts worth millions with revenue from endorsements. Organizations now provide housing, full-time staff, psychologists, nutritionists, and other support systems that didn’t exist in 2012–2015. For Dyrus, none of this was available. He practiced long hours often in modest housing arrangements with teammates, streaming to support himself, and competing without the safety net of modern player protections. His revelation is not just about TSM—it’s about how far the industry has come.

What This Means for Esports History

Dyrus’ honesty sheds light on a broader truth: the pioneers of esports often gave more than they received. Without their sacrifices, the structure and stability of today’s leagues might never have existed. Players like Dyrus, who competed out of passion rather than financial security, helped prove that esports could attract audiences, create stars, and sustain professional ecosystems. Their dedication convinced publishers, sponsors, and investors to commit resources, ultimately leading to the franchised, well-funded systems we see today.

It also highlights a cautionary tale: many early pros never received compensation reflective of their contribution. As esports continues to grow, recognizing these foundational figures is essential—not only with tributes, but perhaps with retroactive acknowledgment from the institutions that benefited most.Marcus “Dyrus” Hill’s admission that he never received a salary during his years at Team SoloMid is more than a personal revelation—it is a historical marker of how young and unstable the esports industry once was.