Thread by @michaelharriot

My uncle’s friend Hawk was a feared gangsta. He was ruthless but he was also a chess wizard. According to the streets, Hawk only lost 1 once, years ago, when he was in prison.

So imagine my surprise when my uncle told Hawk: “l bet $100 my nephew will kick your ass

A thread

Now I was like 12 or 13, so even though I was a chess prodigy, I was scared AF

What if I put Hawk in check and he slit my throat ? What if he sicced his goons on me to keep his streak alive? I hadn’t even reached goon-fighting age!

Then my uncle made a deal:

If I beat Hawk, I could keep the money.

A whole $100 dollars? Oh, hell yeah! I was down.

There was just one other problem with my uncle’s plan.

I had never actually played a chess match.

Not one.

I had literally taught myself how to play chess by reading an encyclopedia. I was consumed with it for a while, but I didn’t have any opponents, so my mom bought a computerized chess game for me.

And the computer ALWAYS kicked my ass.

But $100 tho

There was no time to take a goon defense class and this was pre-internet. I checked out some chess books from the library and learned everything I could about strategy.

My uncle invited Hawk over and EVERYONE showed up to watch. Gangstas, thugs, goons, & even a few hoods

I kicked Hawk’s ass

To be fair, most mass incarceration system chess leagues are SEVERELY underfunded. Conversely, books, data and a computerized chess opponent is great preparation.

And Hawk lost gracefully

When he left, my jugular AND my reputation were both intact.

After I beat Hawk, Hawk kept asking for a rematch but I didn’t have the money to put up. I had already put it in my college savings account.

I’m lying

I bought me a brand new pair of Air Force 1s.

After I beat Hawk, ALL the middle management goons knew me. They’d even stop me when I walked past “the spot”

One day, Hawk even stopped me when he saw me walking home from school and yelled, jokingly, out of his car window:

“Mikey, I haven’t forgotten about my money!”

Now I have no idea how my mom found out so fast, but by the time I got home, she was waiting for me.

She snatched me up and walked me out of the door. I had no idea where we were going…

Until we got to Hawk’s house.

My mom banged on the door like the police

Hawk came to the door with the biggest gun I had ever seen in my life. (It also might’ve been the smallest. I hadn’t seen a lot of guns.) I was crying, begging Hawk not to kill my mom. But my mom had the Holy Ghost, so she wasn’t scared.

“You got the wrong one, Hawk!” She said

Hawk was as confused as I was.

“I know you got my son selling the crackstone!” my mom said. “There will not be any thugbanging in MY HOUSE!”

What?

She was dead serious Hawk started laughing, and said: “ok Miss Dot.” He closed the door and went back in the house

Now I’m mad

I told her thst I was not “thugbanging” or selling “crack stones.” I explained the chess bet and said that someone had told her a story (my mom considered the word “lie” to be a cuss word)

“No they didn’t.” She said as we walked home. She was so mad she wouldn’t look at me

Her: Were you at the crack house?

Me: Yes, ma’am

Her: With the crack salesmen?

Me: Yes, ma’am

Her: And do you wear the crack salesmen shoes?

Me: Yes, ma’am

Her: And you do business the top crack salesman?

Me: Yes, ma’am

She stopped in the middle of the street

She turned and looked at me. I could see that she had been crying.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” She asked.

That’s when it hit me

I hugged her and, to let her know I’d received the lesson she was trying to teach me.

“I understand,” I said.

Even if you think you’re playing chess

You can’t whine about being called a Nazi if you wear your Nazi hat to see the top Nazi at the Nazi rally…