Picture a battlefield of knights and royalty, kings and queens struggling for supremacy against legions of bloodthirsty adversaries determined to take the throne. Picture an army crumbling against a vicious onslaught of heartless barbarians. Picture brilliant commanders sacrificing the lives of their warriors in the name of victory. Picture all this and you have an idea of what chess is like.

Chess is an ancient game, played by many people but truly understood by just a few. It has been around for over 1,500 years, and in that time the pursuit of dominance at the chessboard has become a worldwide passion. Many of the world’s smartest people are professional chess players. Some of the premier chess players today are alleged to have IQ scores of over 175.

I am a fan of chess, and while I do not know the game’s greatest secrets, I am good enough to challenge most recreational players. I play mostly with my dad after school. We spend hours engrossed in our chessboard, battling to win ever-important bragging rights for the rest of the day. And that’s how it all started.

My story begins just a few years ago, at the age where you’re too old to be hugged and snuggled by your aunts and grandmas, and too young to play sports with your dad and your uncles. When I was that age, I played chess. I played aunts and uncles and fathers and cousins alike. I caught on quickly, and soon I was beating them all. All except my dad, who was the one person who could match me in a game. At family gatherings, my relatives would huddle around a board and watch me and my dad duel yet again. At home, I would breeze through my homework so that when my dad came home from work, I would be ready with a chessboard all set up to play.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, and I endured defeat after defeat from my dad, I started to become discouraged. I stopped trying to win, and eventually I stopped playing my dad at all. My mom saw this and told me to keep trying. She said, “Try again, and if you lose, change your strategy and keep trying. But don’t stop playing chess because you lose. The most important thing is to just keep trying.” I took her advice and tried again. And then again and again and again, changed my strategy, and tried again. But my dad always found a way to beat me, even by the slimmest of margins.

So, one day I took out a chessboard and put each piece in its position, all lined up and ready for battle like usual. My dad came home and we began our game. It turned into a war of attrition, with his warriors and mine locked in a struggle with no clear way out. Our soldiers flew upon each other, determined to tear each other to pieces. As the game wore on, I noticed my dad’s normally impervious defenses were growing thin. I looked down, counted my forces, and estimated I had enough pieces for one final charge. It was all or nothing. I gathered up my army and gave it all I had. And then, checkmate, I win! I threw my hands up and ran up and down the hall with a huge smile on my face. I was Bobby Fischer, I was Julius Caesar, I was Alexander the Great. Nothing could have stopped me right then. The next day, we played again. I lost, like so many times before. I still haven’t beaten my dad again. But the one time I did makes all the losses worth it. I have learned many lessons from the game of chess, but I think the most important one chess taught me is to just keep trying until you succeed.