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Cinematic Essay.docx

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ENGL 1010
Elaine Tarutis

1 Delgado Chantz Delgado May 10 , 2011 First Year Writing Seminar Professor Tarutis The Game My dad says firmly, “This is it son play your heart out Drago.” My birthday just passed and this win will be the perfect gift. My heart skips beats, and I watch my coaches but I see right through them. I stare blindly at his face as the words of Mr. McEnulty turned into Russian immediately. However, I did not care and I did not bother to tell him, “Excuse me Mister, but I only speak English.” Instead I nod my head, gave a frank smile, which quickly turned into a determined one. There were only two undefeated players in this huge State Tournament in Saratoga Springs, and I am one of them. Standing tall with a 6-0 score, a 1300 rating, but the will to win. As I grabbed a cookie and a plastic disposable cup of the finest apple juice, time began to tick louder than ever. The sound of time surrounds the intense conversations, the jokes, and even my thoughts.As the match approaches, the butterflies in my stomach quickly left. They left because I knew butterflies did not jump and were not aggressive. What were butterflies became little rabbits hopping around my stomach aimlessly.All of a sudden, I am slowly walking toward the tournament room and approach my table. The bold doctor-like handwriting on the cheap beige colored tape read, “#1.” Tables one through five were on an elevated platform, while all the other tables were placed on the common ground in which any other player was allowed to watch. These tables however held no guests, none but the two motivated players on each board ready to battle their 2 sweat and tears off. I remember asking my opponent for his name and he said in a low but bold voice, “Aditya.” The sad thing is, I was so nervous that instead of having the silent, scary sound between both opponents, and even though I already knew the other second grader’s name, rating, school, coach, last name, middle name, and the way he looked, I still asked for his name hoping that I will have some psychological edge over my opponent. We were both ready to glaze through the board, and exercise our brains for the next four dreadful and gruesome hours. The announcer said, “This is the last round of the State Championship Chess Tournament. Shake hands and start your clocks.”As soon as the announcer got off, the sound of about a million loud clicks surrounded the room. After about six very loud and disturbing seconds, silence hovered the corridors. If one can listen closely, you can hear the mental computers in everyone’s head attempting to calculate several moves ahead to avoid making terrible mistakes. It sounded as if a person was using a typewriter in a completely silent room.After the first moves that are memorized by both players due to our training of openings, I began to cease all of my mental noise and began my crucial period of focus. The rabbits hopped out of my stomach and gave me a gentle smile, the butterflies flew away after one landed on my noise, and my intestines began to slowly creep back into my stomach. Instead of live animals, I felt the digestion of the oatmeal cookies and the wonderful ice-cold apple juice. Every time we make a move, we smash the cylindrical buttons on the top of the shiny mystical cloc
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