Chess: Is It Just a Game?

Chess: Is It Just a Game?
When I was around ten years old, my dad introduced me to a game played on a small board with two sets of pieces—one black, one white. These pieces formed two opposing armies, standing face-to-face on a checkered board of alternating colors.

He explained the rules: each piece had its own unique way of moving, and the goal was to corner the opponent’s king, leaving it with no escape. It sounded simple enough, but I was completely puzzled. What was I supposed to do?

My dad started playing anyway. We took turns moving our pieces, but I kept losing. I had no clue what I was doing or how to approach the game. Then, he promised me a reward—a decent amount of money if I managed to beat him. Suddenly, I had all the motivation I needed.

So, I kept trying. I lost again and again, but with every loss, I learned something new. Soon, I was the one asking to play another round. I had to win.

Over time, I started to enjoy the game, not just for the challenge, but for the process. I began to understand how the pieces moved and even started predicting my dad’s next moves.

Days turned into weeks, and the dynamics of our games shifted. My dad, who used to play casually and with ease, now had to focus. I wasn’t the naive player I once was. I anticipated his strategies, countered his moves, and defended my own. It was no longer just a game; it was a battle of minds.

And then came the day when everything clicked. The game was intense; every move felt like a battle. My dad’s brow furrowed as he planned his next attack, and I could tell he was taking me seriously this time. I wasn’t just the kid he used to beat effortlessly anymore.

I saw an opening—a subtle misstep in his defense. My heart raced as I calculated my moves, weighing each one carefully. If I could execute this plan, I’d win.

Piece by piece, I closed in on his king. He noticed too late. His queen was too far away to save him, his rooks trapped in the wrong corners.

“Check,” I announced, my voice shaking with excitement.

He paused, scanning the board for an escape. I held my breath. My dad was brilliant at finding ways out of impossible situations, but this time, there was no escape.

“Checkmate,” I declared, my grin unstoppable.

He leaned back in his chair, studying the board for a few moments before laughing and shaking his head. “You got me,” he said, and I couldn’t believe it. I had finally won!

And I totally forgot about the money, I just didn't believe I finally win!

It wasn’t just about the money anymore. I had developed something far more valuable: a strategic mindset. Chess had taught me how to think ahead, adapt, and persevere.

That lesson stuck with me. Even now, I find myself looking for the next move, the next strategy—not just in chess, but in life itself.   


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