In the Zone
A red light flashed the words ‘Fasten your Seat belt’ on a sign above his head and with relief Jeremy ignored the churning in his stomach for that one moment as he adjusted the strap. It had been a long journey out from Australia to LA, and that had been enough for him to endure. Only one more trip to his final destination, but it was the waiting that was taking its toll on him.
He had far too much time on his hands to think how to create a strategy that could make or break him. Now he was second guessing it all, and back to square one.
Here he materialized on the other side of the world, about to embark on the biggest adventure of his entire lifetime but the finale bonus of 100k was doing his head in, he couldn’t afford mistakes. He must get it right.
Even though he had won the final prize to get here, his entry mainly, room and fares, but he had exhausted all avenues of credit for additional expenses. ‘There is not much use being in Las Vegas if I can’t live it up a little!’ he mused. ‘But if it didn’t end well, I am bust!’
‘Finally we are descending! I am somewhere at last, just one lap to go!’ he thought as he looked out the oval window and his gut tightened as LA spread out below.
Concrete roads formed a maze like a giant octopus overlapping the city, and his only respite was he didn’t have to drive. ‘So now it begins.’ he thought in despair.
Jeremy Crofter’s mind wandered, trying to reassure himself that he deserved to be here as he disembarked. He flipped his long dark hair from his eyes, and lithely stepped down. He entered customs, then made his way to the local terminal where he sat down for a respite to wait. His body tightened up with nerves, something he suffered a lot with, especially after what he had done.
He was twenty-eight, and had eventually secured a position of finance banker in the local bank after many long years of trying to climb the ladder and he had total support from his workmates who had egged him on.
It was actually his boss that had nominated him for this world-wide contest after playing a game with him over a weekend stay. He guessed it was no mean feat what he achieved to win the finals in Australia where his mates cheered him on at every contest so he could be where he was at this moment, but now he was alone.
His home was Australia, that is what he represented now after taking out the main prize by defeating all the victors, the representative champs from each state, and he shuddered to think of it. He had been so nervous he couldn’t think straight until suddenly, something from within his head had snapped, and surged through him.
He remembered that feeling so well. ‘Just like being outside of my body, and looking on!’ he thought, then he picked up his jacket when he heard the loud speaker announce his flight, and made a bee-line for the end of a long line that reached back into the hallway.
He looked out the rear cab window as the cab driver leisurely drove through the main drag of Las Vegas. It was just turning dusk, darkness moving in quickly, but the city was already lit up like a Christmas tree.
‘It certainly lives up to its name!’ thought Jeremy as the taxi pulled into a long driveway decked with lights which led right up to the entrance of The Casino.
‘Home!’ thought Jeremy. ‘Well for one week at least unless I lose early, then it will be ‘Home James’ back to Australia with a pocket begging for replenishment.’
‘I should just have time to check in, then shower and change before the night’s event.’ he thought, as he paid the driver, jumped from the cab to get his luggage out, then approached the building. He pushed against the turnstile doors of the entrance, walked through and out across the marble tiled floor to the huge reception desk.
Later when he came downstairs he had little trouble finding the event room as he followed the signs which read. ‘World Class Event Venue.’
He paused in the doorway to read the night’s event. It was a meet, and greet night, dinner and a live show.
‘Guess they will all be here!’ Jeremy thought. ‘All the Champions. A finalist winner out of everyone entered from each state of a Country. One person to represent each nominated Country across the World, and I am to represent Australia!’ he thought as his knees trembled. ‘This is a daunting task! Not only do I bear a weight of representing Australia I have to face the World’s best.
He looked up and stared at the room in amazement. It was huge, and the set-up reminded him of something from a movie set where the big guns came to play stud poker, their six-guns hanging handy from their hips as they sauntered into the room, and selected their tables.
‘However this was not stud poker, was it?’ Jeremy mused, as he stepped forward to grab a drink off a tray that a waiter held up as he slipped between the tables.
‘This was The International Chess Championships!’ he thought, and felt his hand tremble with the thought as he looked at the set-up in the room with interest.
‘Yes, definitely World Class! And yours truly is part of it. Oh, good god, what will I do? I am just a Country guy from Australia. I can’t compete against the World!’ ‘Just get a grip Jeremy! You can do this!’ he told himself as he stepped out determinedly amongst the throng of people, then started to mingle amidst each group who were idly chatting to meet them and introduce himself.
By the time the gong sounded as a notice that dinner was to be served Jeremy had mated up with a younger chap, the Champion from England, and he was feeling much more contented, more at ease with the situation.
‘There are only fourteen Countries nominated!’ he thought to himself. ‘That is just thirteen people to beat. Not too hard a task I shouldn’t think. I just have to stay positive and be determined.’ he chuckled to himself. ‘If determination counts for anything, then they can give me the trophy now and my 100k thank you very much.’
Jeremy was up bright and early and he dressed with finesse then went straight down to the dining room for a hearty breakfast. It was the morning of the big event, and the Tournament started at 10am sharp.
‘Finally the day is here, the waiting has been killing me!’ he thought to himself as he waited anxiously for his breakfast to arrive. It was his pet hate…the waiting.
At the close of the day he wondered what all the fuss had been. He had cruised through his first match.
‘But it is a knock-out though!’ he reminded himself. ‘I can’t afford to lose one match or it’s good-by Jeremy.’
He kept up his concentration each day, and had the same mind-set during every game. He was wary of his opponents and sometimes in his break he would just sit and watch a few games. It amazed him that a lot of the players had little idiosyncrasies, just little things he picked up on about their game and their intentions. He chastised himself heavily about this. ’Make sure you keep a poker-face Jeremy!’ he said to himself each day.
So far he had kept his nerves under control, but now the contest was getting harder and he sweated badly as the fear of loss crept up on him like a living thing and threatened to choke him. He gasped for a big breath as he faced his next opponent, and reached for a glass of water. He only had three more people to defeat so the pressure was mounting, and his gut was tied in knots.
Jeremy had never prayed before, but he did now as he watched his adversary’s face as he planned a move.
Jeremy tossed, and turned in bed. He just couldn’t sleep. He worried and fretted of alternate strategies. In exhaustion he finally drifted into a deep sleep but only to be hounded by bad dreams that tortured his brain of losing the tournament. He was fighting like a mad-man and woke with such a start that he kicked his covers off in distress as he fought his demons to jump out of bed. His breathing was heavy, his clothes clung to his body drenched in sweat, and his body shook uncontrollably.
‘How would he get through today?’ he wondered.
He was tired but today was the final day, the grand finale of the Competition but something just didn’t feel right to Jeremy. He was a finalist! It was he who had to play for the prize today so he should be bounding with glee but he wasn’t. Instead he felt lethargic, and wasted precious time as he dressed, only just making it down to the dining room in time for breakfast.
However that didn’t go to his usual plan either. No sooner had they placed his food before him, he pushed his chair back quickly to the sound of screeching metal legs along the polished timber floor in his haste to race for the bathroom with a fist clenching at his stomach.
He returned to his table looking pale, and spent. His face was drained of emotion and his gut churned as he looked down at his cold food and then pushed it aside.
‘This day is not panning out!’ he thought miserably.
‘What is wrong with you Jeremy?’ he asked himself. ‘You have done the hard yards, you deserve this!’
Suddenly his courage returned. ‘Yes!’ he thought. ‘This is exactly what I wanted. Where I wanted to be. I worked hard for this and I am not going to beat myself!'
Determinedly he pushed his chair back, then strode out for the great room, where at the door he paused to take it all in. One table only was set up for play, the rest of the room was set for the gallery to watch the match, and of course a long table for the panel of judges placed at the rear, and above them was a banner strung across that read. ‘The International Chess Tournament.’
Jeremy made his way down the aisle when his name was called. He was to play against the Frenchman. He had been fascinated to watch his play on a break once.
This Frenchman was a player, but a very tactical one. Jeremy was almost tuned to his game when he noticed something odd, a flaw in the Frenchman’s demeanor.
‘He would have to watch out for that!’
They shook hands then accepted the proffered seats. Silence cloaked the room at the announcement of play. Jeremy would have heard a pin drop if it wasn’t for the pounding of his heart. His hands sweated, and nerves set in. He struggled for hours to retain his wits against the cunning Frenchman and was in total concentration, pushing through that barrier of fear to ride a wave now of pure adrenalin that made him feel secure.
He was ‘In the Zone’ now and the world outside did not exist, but then as he moved his hand to make a play he looked up, and behold, there it was…the flaw.
A raised eyebrow suggesting his opponent sensed a win. ‘Ah! I see.’ he mused as he studied the board. He moved his rook instead to the fall of the Frenchman’s face, and Jeremy knew at that point that he had won.
‘In two moves he would have CHECKMATE!’
******