I love chess. I'm terrible (or at least not particularly good) at it, but I love it.
Most Sundays, I show up at my local chess club to confront my mediocrity—without the comforting anonymity of online play (where at least I can lose quietly in sweatpants and pretend it never happened).
In our group, I could be the father of pretty much everyone. Actually, in some cases, I literally could be their father. I can't teach them much about chess—except maybe not to slam the pieces on the board like they're trying to summon thunder. Why so aggressive?
This week, I was paired with Graham.
Graham is five.
Yes. Five.
He sat across from me, thumb in mouth, feet dangling from the chair, radiating the quiet confidence of someone who's already beaten a few grown-ups.
Now, I had no illusions about my chess skills (none, zero, absolutely void), but the idea of losing to someone who would probably need a nap right after our match? Let's just say my ego was… fully engaged.
Spoiler: I won (admit it, you hoped I had lost). But Graham made me earn it.
And the experience reminded me of something I often tell myself at work:
- Your ego is rarely your best advisor.
- Age doesn't matter nearly as much as talent, focus, and curiosity.
- The person who's better than you? Might be 20 years younger (or 41 in today's case)—and that's not a threat, it's a gift.
Whether in chess or leadership, the goal isn't to always come out on top. The goal is to grow—especially when you're not the best in the room.
I'll always show up ready to contribute, but I don't need to be the smartest in the room. I just need to make sure the room is set up for everyone to play their best game.
As a CFO, I take pride in building teams where the most capable people thrive.
Thanks for the lesson, Graham. You earned that nap. (I could honestly use one too.)