They stood silently, one in each corner of the room, straining their ears for the anticipated moment. The children exchanged glances, from corner to corner, to confirm no one moved early: rule breaking would not be tolerated. Any minute now the alarm will go off, and spring the lifeless room into action, but patience was key. One early step, and you lose. One flinch, and you're destined for the horrors of sitting out the next game, and the loss of social credit. Lunch time for the coming week would be a tortuous affair.

“Ring ring ring....ring,” and so the race began. First to dive on his button was Johnny, not surprisingly as he was the most athletic of the bunch, second Drew, third Michael, and fourth, the poor soul, Danny. This was the first elimination round. Danny threw his hands up in frustration, and began to rumble about any excuse he could muster: Michael cheated, or Drew jumped early. Nevertheless he found himself sitting in a corner, watching as the others went on.

The next match was checkers, a game of wits, as it were. The boys knew intense concentration was needed to make the perfect move. Drew was clearly the smartest, and therefore the most formidable opponent. Drew and Johnny would start, then Michael was to play the winner. It was a swift victory for Drew, he made effortless connected jump after connected jump, and gave nothing but a smug, reproachful grin as his opponent walked off. For a moment in time, he felt like the Einstein of his generation, venerated after his second place finish in the last competition.

“I’m going to wipe the floor with you the same as him, sit down and feel my wrath,” the young man boasted as Michael took his seat.

Michael was shy, no one expected much of him, but for shy kids confidence comes at infrequent intervals. And he felt that Drews rain as the smartest in the group was coming to an end. Drew marched his pieces forward, across the board, his mind set on a swift victory. But Michael played slow; he played smart. He battled out a long defensive victory, and watched with smug satisfaction as his denigrated opponent, turn by turn, crumbled.

Michael spoke at a normal volume, a yell for a man of his character, “who's the best checkers player after all, bitch.”

Childhood is foreign to many adults. Foreign not because they don’t remember the experience, but foreign because in the process of aging, we shed off the appreciation and awe of everyday activities. It’s not logical to care so much about a game of checkers, but caring is precisely what makes the present moment impossible to ignore. Dedication to trivial affairs, both in loss and in triumph, embellishes life with meaning and purpose. And devoid of his normal state, Michael felt a stronger sense of pride than ever before. For once, he felt he was good at something.

Next up, the final round. Johnny was eliminated, Drew and Michael remained. What competition did our mighty warriors select to determine the best of the best? Why, arm wrestling of course. A true man's game. The achilles of their generation was to be unveiled that night.

“I went to the gym with my dad last week, there's no way you can win,” boasted Drew with swaggered arrogance.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael whispered (he thought it was an intimidating snarl, but remember what i said about infrequent intervals).

The boys clasped hands and Johnny counted them down.

“3 - 2 -1 go!!” The boys let out grunts like that of tennis players, hoping it gave them an edge on the competition. Drew lifted his elbow for leverage, but the referees quickly called foul. The battle raged on. Michael was on the ropes, Troy was about to fall, but in this story there were no sly tricks, just the power of sheer will. He was down to mere inches from the table when a fire of resistance lit inside of him. “I spend my whole life coming in second,” he thought, “but not today.” Michael battled back and eventually slammed drews fist to the table.

Like a gladiator after his final victory, Michael threw his arms up with triumphant liberation. He felt he could not be stopped, nothing else mattered, not school, not girls, because Michael was a champion at last