Page 28 of Niccolo

As soon as I read about it, I thought,Oh – that’s ME.

In reality, I wasn’t asexual.

But I didn’t know that until a wedding years later…

When I finally met a man who sparked my interest.

I didn’t have any friends – not that I had time for any. Between my father’s tutoring, my own private study, Wednesday night chess classes, and tournaments, I didn’t have much time for anything else.

My father entered me into my first junior tournament when I was 9 years old. I won the entire ‘Under 12’ category.

Papa was so proud! That was actually one of the happiest days of my life, getting a cheap plastic trophy for first place as he beamed at me happily.

After that, he began entering me in teenage tournaments. You could play above your age group if you wanted – and Papa said younger children were no match for me.

As I got older, Papa and I traveled all over Italy, taking trains to weekend tournaments. Papa would play in the grandmaster tournaments, and I would play against teenagers.

I won more matches than I lost, but I still lost regularly – mostly to 17- and 18-year-old players with a decade’s more experience than me.

And every time I lost, my father would berate me.

Even when I won, he would usually pick apart my mistakes and never congratulate me – especially if he happened to lose that weekend.

I eventually began to hate tournaments.

Other children might have rebelled and stopped going – but not me.

Just like when I was younger and I would study long into the night, I thought,If I just get better and win more…

THEN he’ll love me.

I eventually got better.

I won more.

But I never seemed able to make him love me.

Things got worse the year I turned 14.

That was when the unprecedented happened:

I beat Papa for the first time.

Neither of us could believe it.

We just sat there staring at the chess pieces –

And then I grinned up at him, expecting him to finally shower me with love.

Instead, he said coldly, “Congratulations. You had your best day ever… and I had my worst day ever.”

My heart broke.

I probably would have been better off if I’d quit chess right then…

But instead, sadly, I just tried harder to get his approval.

After that first shocking defeat, my father played every single game with me like his life depended on it.

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