Twenty-one years ago, in the mist of history, I experienced the high-point of my own personal victory against the world. The setting was Booneville, Kentucky, and it was the district championship of the quick recall Middle School Governor's Cup competition. A hard fought game had ended regulation with Powell County, stock full of geniuses, held to a tie with Lee County, with their own mountainous geniuses. A small break was allowed before the overtime portion of the event began. During this time, a strange calm came upon me. As I recall, it was a reflective ten minutes or so. The team was abuzz with the potential for beating the rival team, but also the dismay at being played to a tie, but I felt external to this excitement. I was not excited. A strange confidence had wrapped me in a surreal feeling of the inevitability of victory, because I personally would emerge victorious, and I would bring my team along in this inevitability of triumph.
The overtime period began, and with the first toss-up question I buzzed in and delivered the first of five sudden-death points. The bonus question was delivered and I delivered the second point. The second toss-up was asked, and I delivered the third point. The second bonus came and I delivered the fourth point. The third toss-up was asked, and again, still wrapped in the surreal calm of inevitability, I delivered the fifth and final point. It was, and is, the closest to the divine I have ever approached.
The overtime period began, and with the first toss-up question I buzzed in and delivered the first of five sudden-death points. The bonus question was delivered and I delivered the second point. The second toss-up was asked, and I delivered the third point. The second bonus came and I delivered the fourth point. The third toss-up was asked, and again, still wrapped in the surreal calm of inevitability, I delivered the fifth and final point. It was, and is, the closest to the divine I have ever approached.
posted by Brinton
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