When I was in elementary school, I joined the chess club. It was a fun, after-school activity. And maybe we were all nerds, but we were really too young to understand that.
My older brother, Ben, was the champion. One of my best friends won quite a few games herself. And I had fun. Which means I didn’t win all that much, but I did know how to move the pieces. Strategy is just not my thing.
End of Background.
At my house a few weeks ago, Dillon and I engaged in a battle that was resembled a cross between steal-the-flag and chess. The battle was called Stratego.
My little army gave it their all, but they weren’t very smart. In fact, they were quite stupid and kept getting themselves killed.
And Dillon’s grand army was victorious.
But two days ago, the battle commenced again. This time, my ragged bunch of troops plucked up their courage, using their previous experience to formulate new plans, greater plans. Many of them sacrificed themselves, but in the end, my spy killed Dillon’s general swiftly and soundly.
My army felt victorious, ready to simply find the flag and capture it.
And then a low-ranking survivor of Dillon’s troops suddenly snuck in, diffused my bombs, and ran away with my flag.
But next time, I will win.