My First Chess Encounter

I felt the rush of cold air on my face as I walked into my school's air conditioned cafeteria. Not only was it a warm Saturday morning, but my excitement (and anxiety) of my upcoming chess tournament got me heated. . . literally, so I appreciated the borderline freezing temperatures of the room. Trying to look over the heads of my fellow elementary school competitors, I wrote down my board number and player color on my notation sheet. Dragging my feet to the table, I tried to find any familiar faces amidst the optical illusion created by the arrangement of black and white chess pieces. Disheartened by my failure to do so, I shook hands with my competitor, beginning my first competitive chess game. My anxiety transformed into awe, as I envisioned myself developing a strategy to protect the king among the other chess pieces. The knight was my sidekick and the queen my avid supporter. The bishop was my mentor and the rook a loyal companion. Even the pawns, whom I initially neglected, came to be valuable assets in my plan. The gears in my brain churned in harmony with the ticking of the digital clock, and my pencil furiously scribbled moves on my notation sheet faster than thoughts manifested in my mind. For the span of that hour, I was in my own fantasy, personifying plastic pieces as heroic contributors to the king’s army. To this day, the sensory experiences of the plastic pieces, the freezing air conditioner, the wooden pencil, and the digital clock transform the apparently dull game into a dynamic rendition of my first encounter with chess, strengthening my relationship with the mental sport.