I’ve been playing and coaching in League of Legends for over ten years, long enough to see Buy LoL Smurfs go from a niche topic high-elo players whispered about to something openly discussed in coaching calls and Discord servers. One of the most misunderstood parts of buying a smurf—something I see repeatedly with players coming through https://www.aussyelo.com/lol-smurfs the rank or the champions unlocked, but the name change, and what people expect that new identity to actually do for them.
The first time I bought a smurf for myself, I didn’t care much about the name. I picked something random, jumped into games, and focused on learning a new role. A week later, I realized I was still playing like it was my main account—same risk tolerance, same bad habits, same frustration when things went wrong. The name didn’t change anything because my mindset didn’t change. That experience taught me something I now tell almost every player I coach: a new title or name only works if you treat the account differently.
A few seasons later, a student of mine did the opposite. He bought a smurf specifically to reset his mental state. He chose a neutral, boring name on purpose—no ego, no references to rank, no jokes that would tempt him to show off. He told me it helped him slow down. He stopped forcing plays and focused on fundamentals. The name wasn’t magic, but it reinforced the way he wanted to play. That account ended up outperforming his main within a couple of weeks.
Where people get into trouble is thinking the title change hides everything. I’ve reviewed accounts where players assumed a new name meant anonymity, then played hyper-aggressively, flamed teammates, or ran down games because “it doesn’t matter.” That behavior leaves patterns—MMR swings, reports, odd matchmaking—that don’t disappear just because the name looks clean. I’ve seen smurfs with perfectly normal usernames that still felt cursed because of how they were played early on.
Another common mistake is overpaying for cosmetic promises tied to names. I’ve had clients show me listings that emphasized rare or flashy usernames more than account quality. In practice, the name is the least important variable. What matters is whether the account was leveled naturally, how the early games were played, and whether the MMR is actually stable. A cool name won’t save you from uneven matchmaking or a warped climb.
From a coaching perspective, I only recommend caring about the name change for one reason: mental separation. If you’re buying a smurf to learn, the name should remind you why that account exists. I’ve personally used plain, almost forgettable names on practice smurfs so I wouldn’t feel pressure to perform. On the other hand, I’ve seen competitive players use clearly labeled alt names to stay disciplined during tryout prep. Both approaches work if they match the intent.
There’s also a practical detail newer players miss. The first stretch of games after buying a smurf defines how that account feels long-term. If you rush through those matches distracted or tilted, no name change later will fix it. I’ve watched players rename accounts halfway through a bad run, convinced that was the problem, only to repeat the same mistakes under a new label.
Buying a LoL smurf and changing the name can be useful, but only as a supporting tool. In my experience, the title doesn’t reset your skill, your habits, or your decision-making. It just gives you a blank sign. What you write on it—and how you play once it’s there—decides whether the account actually serves a purpose or becomes just another abandoned alt.
