Being a kid on Fox Island, Washington meant that my days were filled with fishing, boating, and skipping rocks across the Puget Sound.  The only time living on the Island was not the best was during a storm. On this day, a storm was barreling down on us. The pounding rain had descended and the skies had turned pitch black. You could always count on the complete darkness making the howl of the wind and the rough water hitting the shore sound even louder and more ominous. When the weather was this bad, residents could not help but wonder if the bridge was going to hold up. This was always a concern because the bridge was the only way real help could get to the island.

Our brown house sat on a bluff and seemed particularly vulnerable in the storm. When the wind picked up enough, the house shook and felt as if it might fall directly into the raging waters below. To distract us from the worsening weather, and to keep us from staring out of the windows while thinking of the multitude of ways we might die, my dad asked my brother Robert and me to play chess. That night, I learned a lot about chess and life.

I had never played the game before. Therefore, my father played Robert first. I was instructed to learn as I watched them play. From the start, I was hooked! I was immediately mesmerized as each of players drew their pieces, one after another, until each of their kingdoms was ready for war. I could not wait to lead my own army into battle, and was not worried in the slightest that I did not know how to play the game. I thought about how fun it was going to be to learn something new. Unfortunately, these feelings quickly changed.

First, my father taught me the names of each of the pieces and how each one moved across the board. Then he told me about basic strategies and typical mistakes. The lessons did not last long because according to my father, the best way to learn was to actually play. He said my first opponent was going to be Robert.

My brother is two and a half years older than me. He is used to knowing more than me and enjoys beating me at everything. In fact, this might be his favorite hobby. That day, he insisted on going first and snickered as I fumbled to figure out how the pieces moved. “Do you really think you can beat me? That is the most hilarious thing I have ever heard! Jacob, maybe you should grow up and become a comedian because you’re the funniest person I’ve ever met,” my brother taunted. I was trying to focus on the game, but I could only hear him laughing at me. A fury inside me grew until it could no longer be contained. I was convinced my brother was thinking that I was an idiot. From that moment, I was determined to annihilate him! At that time, Robert had been playing chess for a couple of years. I had played the game for a whole ten minutes. “Well, I mean you can try, but you are going to fail miserably Jacob,” my brother said to intimidate me. The only response that came to my mind was, “Okay, jerk.” It was not my best comeback, but I was not that confident that he wasn’t actually right and that he was about to beat me to a pulp. Robert probably said a few other demeaning comments, but the only thing I heard clearly, was him saying, “Prepare to die!”

As we began to play, I glared into Robert’s eyes in a way that I could only look at my worst enemy. I pretended I was staring directly into his soul and destroying his mind with my laser sharp eyes. He looked back at me and I only saw his dilated, elliptical pupils. It felt as if his eyes were flamethrowers aimed directly at me. I brought my hands together and gripped them tightly to hide and suppress my feelings of nervousness. A voice in my head kept asking me, “Is this what you really want to do? Do you ready think you’re ready for this?” I responded to the voice in my head definitively by saying, “Yes! I shall do this!”

To intimidate Robert, I reached confidently for one of my knights. I picked it up. I struck it down on the board with determination. Then Robert reached out, picked up one of his knights, and slammed it down on the board. There were a flurry of furious moves, from rooks to knights, from bishops to queens. I then went for his knight. In response, he charged toward my bishop. I attempted to flank his bishop. The battle was intense and raged on for what felt like eternity. Finally, there were only a few pieces left standing. Unfortunately, each one belonged to Robert. Only my king was left. I was humiliated. A tremendous heat came over me. It started at the top of my head and then quickly traveled through my whole body and only stopped when it reached the bottom of my feet. The entire game replayed over and over in my head at warp speed. Suddenly a painfully large amount of regret overcame me. At that moment, I knew I had screwed up. I had allowed my kingdom to be destroyed. I lost. The most devastating part was that I had lost to Robert.

I stared down at the board and saw my pieces gone as if they had never been there. It felt as if a sword had pierced through me and the blood from my body was slowly dripping to the floor. I fell to my knees, asking myself, “How could this happen?” My mind could not comprehend the loss. This was not supposed to end with me dead on the floor. It was supposed to be the day I finally conquered Robert.

I tried to pull myself together by reasoning that there must have been some mistake or it must have been some fluke. I thought, I will play him again, and this time the universe will right itself and the correct result will happen. I immediatelychallenged Robert to another game. I lost. I challenged him again, and again, and again, and lost every time. Over and over, I made every right move, but he somehow managed to counter every one of my moves perfectly.

After several more games, I stared down at the board and I could only see red. I began to breathe heavily, as if my lungs were not working. I didn’t know what was happening to me. This had never happened before. I began to feel dizzy. It felt as if the world had suddenly turned upside down. Everything was exactly how it was not supposed to be. I know I was supposed to congratulate my brother for beating me eight games in a row. I was supposed to compliment him and tell him that he played well. But I could not do it. The only way I could manage to hold onto any amount of dignity was to immediately retreat to my room.

When I did not return, my parents began to worry about me. My father came to my room and found me curled up in a ball, under the covers. He asked, “What’s wrong Jacob?” I replied, “Why can’t I be great at chess? No matter what I do, I always get the same bad results.” He said, “Well, that is life. You won’t always win, but I can tell you that you will not always lose either, if you keep trying. Over time, you’ll become a better player. Besides, it’s a game. Don’t take it seriously. Don’t focus on winning or losing. Focus on having fun with the challenge of becoming a better player.” In my heart, I knew he was right. However, in that moment, I could only yell back at him, “It’s NOT a game! I have to prove to Robert and you that I can win too. Maybe I should quit playing chess. Maybe it is too hard. Maybe it’s something that I cannot do.” My father let me go on like this for a while, but then interrupted me by saying, “You can quit, but I think you are better than that.” I replied by saying, “You’re wrong.” My father then sat down next to me and asked, “Have you ever heard of Lawrence of Arabia and his crossing of the Nefud desert?”

My father began, “When Lawrence of Arabia said he would travel across the Nefud, everyone said it was an impossible goal and it could not be done. But Lawrence of Arabia vowed that he would do it. It took him a long time and he had to endure horrible conditions, but he did not give up. Eventually, he did what everyone thought was impossible. You shouldn’t quit because something seems difficult or even if other people tell you that you cannot do it. Be like Lawrence of Arabia.”

I felt inspired. I was going to cross the Nefud too! I dashed back down stairs and challenged Robert to another game. We set up the board quickly. We were both eager to beat the other. He drew out his knight. I drew mine. At first, the moves were quick. But as the board began to empty out, the moves became slower and more deliberate. Suddenly, it happened! Robert made a mistake! He left a wide opening for my pieces to go in. I knew I could put him in checkmate. Unfortunately, I didn’t know exactly know how to do it. I then did what some people consider a weak move. I asked my father for help. Robert argued that it was unfair and accused me of cheating and being weak by asking for help, but I knew it was the right thing to do. My father asked me a few questions and the perfect strategy hit me. I whispered my plan to my father and he said to go for it. Then I began to execute my plan. First, I moved my knight, and then my queen, and then my bishop, and finally my rook. I had done it! An excitement rushed over me as I yelled, “CHECKMATE!”

It was obvious that Robert was in disbelief. His shock then turned to disappointment. But within a few seconds, it faded away. He congratulated me on my first victory. We both said it was a well played game.  Then I asked “Do you want to play again?” Surprisingly, he said, “Sure.”

I played Robert again, but not because I wanted to see him lose again, and not even because I wanted to beat him again, but because playing the game was fun, even if I did not win. I knew that from that moment on, for the rest of my life, I’d remember how that first win felt and how I should not give up, no matter how difficult the challenge, and even if success did not come quickly. Also, it is okay to ask for help. Help does not show weakness. It shows that I am smart enough to tell when I cannot do something on my own. I learned that life will not always go my way, but if I am resilient, my fear of failing will not keep me from trying to succeed. By the end of the night, the storm had passed, both the one outside and the one inside of me.