Hey Everyone,
Over the past eight years, Sombra has undergone numerous transformations—from her original release in OW1, where she was seen as a high-ceiling disruptor, to her current state in OW2, where she occupies a more limited, burst-focused flanker role. Despite these changes, one thing has remained constant: the strong emotions she evokes.
For full transparency, I’m primarily a support main. That means for most of my Overwatch experience, I’ve been on the receiving end of Sombra’s antics—getting hacked mid-fight, pressured in the backline, or juggled between her cooldowns. And yet, rather than fueling resentment, those encounters pushed me to learn how to shut her down. Because unlike hard crowd control—like stuns that completely strip agency, boops that instantly shift momentum, or anti-heals that forced the introduction of Kiriko’s cleanse—Sombra’s disruption is often interactable. You can scout her. You can peel for teammates. You can interrupt her hacks and force her out. There’s a rhythm to countering her that, with experience, becomes more manageable.
Ironically, that growing understanding of how to beat her is what led me to appreciate her more—and even gravitate toward her as my preferred DPS pick. I’ve always felt that, especially in OW1, Sombra’s playstyle leaned far more into a supportive role than people gave her credit for. Between her hack utility, scouting, and high survivability, she felt like a hero who enabled her team through disruption rather than just raw damage. That utility-focused playstyle clicked with me as a support main—and it still does.
It’s from that dual perspective—someone who’s both fought Sombra and played her—that I want to explore the deeper issues surrounding her place in the game.
If you revisit Fitzyhere’s older content—one of the most respected Sombra mains in the scene—you’ll see just how much raw potential she used to have. Not just in terms of outplays, but in outright denying others the ability to play the game. Back in OW1, she could chain six-second hacks, stack them with EMP, and disappear with a five-second translocator cooldown. Add infinite stealth and the ability to hack directly out of it, and she became a ghost with the power to suppress a single player for up to 18 seconds. That’s not hyperbole—it was a reality that many players lived through. And yes, it was oppressive.
Watching that now, with the benefit of hindsight and the game knowledge I didn’t have at the time, honestly makes me grieve the broken potential I never fully tapped into. But it also makes the resentment make sense. That version of Sombra disrupted the rules of engagement and punished those who didn’t already know how to counter her. The baggage that players carry from that era? It’s real. And, I think to many people’s surprise, a lot of Sombra mains genuinely understand that.
But here’s the part that often gets overlooked: that Sombra hasn’t existed in over a year. She no longer has infinite stealth. She can’t hack out of invis by default (and frankly, the current upgrade that allows her to do so should be removed—it’s outdated and frustrating to play against). Her translocator is no longer infinite. Hack now has clearer cooldowns and more counterplay. She’s not the OW1 chaos agent in your backline anymore. In OW2, she’s a mid-tier flanker with some burst and limited utility. She’s beatable. Some would even say underwhelming.
And yet, the hatred hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s grown louder. Which leads to a tough truth: at this point, the resentment is no longer about her mechanics. It’s about the emotional response her playstyle triggers. Feeling interrupted. Feeling watched. Feeling like the fight was never on your terms. Sombra became the embodiment of that discomfort, and the backlash hasn’t just been about balance—it’s been personal. Sometimes vicious.
Let’s be honest: every hero has toxic players. We’ve all seen T-bagging Widows, emoting Genjis, BM Sojourns, spawn-camping Reapers. But when they act out, their players get called toxic—not their kits. With Sombra, that line blurs. When someone abuses her, people want the hero gone. Not adjusted. Deleted.
That’s what stings. Because while I can admit that some of her older mechanics were deeply flawed and frustrating, that doesn’t justify the way her current player base is treated. We’ve endured years of stigma, judgment, and assumptions from the moment we lock her in. We’ve toned ourselves down, tried to be model teammates, over-explained our picks. It hasn’t helped. Because it was never just about “attitude.” It was about what she represents.
And the irony? The fundamentals of her playstyle—flanking, map control, ability disruption—aren’t even exclusive to her. Tracer flanks. Echo bursts from unexpected angles. Reaper appears out of nowhere and deletes supports. What makes Sombra feel different isn’t what she does—it’s how often she does it. Her impact is persistent. She’s not overpowered, but she’s omnipresent. She becomes the background interference of every fight.
And that’s the real design challenge. Her gameplay rhythm feels smooth and fun for us—but to the enemy, it’s a constant string of debuffs and interruptions. Right now, as a DPS, her objective is to secure kills. But when you pair that goal with a toolkit built around utility and low cooldowns, it creates tension. You end up with a hero who’s expected to frag and constantly disable others—which leads to layered frustration.
That’s why I believe that to preserve her identity while reducing that overwhelming frequency, a more radical shift is needed—not to what she does, but to how she fits in the game. I think the best version of Sombra might not be a DPS at all.
Imagine her as a support instead. Still stealth-based. Still a scout. Still disruptive. But now, she’d operate with longer engagement windows, fewer kill obligations, and a team-oriented toolkit. Her utility wouldn’t just annoy the enemy—it would meaningfully assist her allies. That’s the direction I’ll be exploring in a rework proposal I’ll be posting Friday between 9–11am ET.
I don’t expect universal agreement. But I hope this opens the door to a more constructive, empathetic conversation—one grounded in historical context, shared frustration, and a genuine desire to improve the game for everyone.
Because Sombra mains aren’t villains for enjoying their hero. And other players aren’t wrong for feeling frustrated. But we’ll never get anywhere if the response to that tension is to dehumanize either side.
Let’s talk. Let’s imagine a better version of her—together.
TL;DR:
I’m a support main who’s also played a lot of Sombra, and I understand why she frustrates people—especially back in OW1 when her kit could shut players down for absurd amounts of time. But that version of her is long gone. Despite that, the resentment persists, often in ways that feel personal and unfair. The core issue isn’t just her mechanics—it’s how her constant interruptions make people feel.
Instead of gutting her or deleting her identity, I propose something different: shift her to a support role, where her utility and scouting can shine in a way that’s impactful but less oppressive. A full rework proposal will drop Friday between 9–11am ET. Let’s build a version of Sombra that works for everyone.