My brother Dara says the day his son Cormac beat him at chess was one of the proudest moments of his life. Well, not to outdo him, but I’ve just achieved a far higher accolade. This week, I beat my five-year-old son at chess for the first time.
I’d never played chess before a month ago. There was no conscious choice to avoid it, I was simply never offered a game growing up. Perhaps my friends were deliberately hiding this secret hobby from me, out of fear I’d prove too powerful. Whatever the case, chess followed a familiar path in my life; I didn’t do it when I was young, and thus had zero interest in adulthood, since I refuse to engage in any activity I’m not good at.
