Column - Just Add Water

My kids would tell you there are four seasons in each year. They're not talking about spring, summer, autumn and winter. No. Our family divides each year by sport: basketball, baseball, football and chess. Yes, you read that right -- chess.

Chess was added to our annual schedule last year when my son decided to give it a try. And even though he probably just wanted to spend a few extra hours with his friends after school, I began noticing a real interest.

Every Tuesday, I would pick him up from school and he would tell me about the moves he learned that day. He didn't always win, but he loved it anyway. And on those nights, I would be forced to play a round or two so that he could practice the strategies his coach taught that afternoon. I have to admit, it was pretty humiliating losing to a 10-year-old in my own living room.

Then, just as basketball was about to begin, chess ended with a Franklin County elementary school-age competition. Parents weren't allowed to watch the kids play, but I was told that each child would play three matches against kids at their level of play from another school. Competitors winning all three matches would receive a medal. Medals also were awarded for high scorers and top-placing players.

This is how I found myself squeezed into a gym with hundreds of other hopeful parents waiting for a much-anticipated awards ceremony. Sure that my little "genius" would walk away with at least one medal, I had my camera ready. But as names were called and kids filed onto the stage, I realized that my son didn't win all of his matches.

I was a little disappointed, but really felt for my son. As I went to retrieve him from the crowded gym, I was sure that this would be the end of the chess team.

Later, during the drive home, I realized how wrong I was. He described each match, play by play, with huge enthusiasm and talked about his strategy for the next year.

As autumn leaves began to fall this year, the number of football games dwindled. Then, one afternoon, my 8-year-old daughter skipped off the bus with a chess team permission form in her hand.

I was surprised that she wanted to join the school team, but shocked that my son wanted to teach her how to play.

The pair spent afternoons and evenings together discussing basic rules and strategies -- a big change from the previous weeks spent at football fields watching practices and games. All of a sudden, my evenings were quiet. I liked it.

Next month is the countywide competition; I'll be among the hundreds of parents packed like sardines on a plastic gym bench. As I watch the awards ceremony with great anticipation, I'll remember that win or lose, chess season has been a success in my book.