The game is on in this fun-filled middle grade debut about chess, girl power, and performance anxiety in sports, perfect for fans of Kelly Yang and Celia C. Pérez!
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Kyla Zhao’s May The Best Player Win, which is out September 17th 2024.
The clock is ticking for May Li, whose middle-school chess team just earned a victory at the state championship—and with it, a ticket to nationals. What’s even more exciting is that May got an award for being the top female player and a splashy feature in the biggest chess magazine in the country.
May should be thrilled. But some of her teammates, including her supposed-to-be-friend Ralph, aren’t too pleased with the attention she’s getting—and they’re even questioning her skills. Backed into a corner, but not one to back down, May makes a move as bold as any of her chess tactics: She bets Ralph she can win the school’s internal tournament and be chosen as team captain for nationals.
The crown is May’s for the taking . . . except she’s starting to crumble under the weight of everyone’s expectations. Anxious feelings begin to affect her performance and, what’s worse, eat away at her love for the game. Now May is left to wonder: Can you still play for fun when you’re playing to win?
OPENING
The start of a chess game, with White making the first move
THE QUEEN CHARGES FORWARD. THE KING COWERS.
But in a flash, the knight jumps onto the scene to His Majesty’s defense.
I let out a big breath once I’ve played my move. Frowning, my opponent, Eric Malik, leans his head over the chessboard.
My mom once let me use her stethoscope, and her heartbeat sounded like the stampede from The Lion King, but I think my heart’s beating even faster now.
This is the final round at the California Middle School State Chess Championship, and Eric is my toughest opponent by far. He was a medalist last year, and this is the first time I’ve ever qualified for State. Right now, it’s hard to tell who has the upper hand in our game. But one wrong move and my position could collapse like a Jenga tower.
A familiar voice from two tables down makes me look up. “I resign,” Ralph Morris sighs, knocking his king over. The slump of his shoulders makes my chest tighten. Ralph is my chess teammate at Lingard Middle School. Like my opponent, Eric, he’s also playing at State for the second time. I know he’s hoping to improve on his fifth-place finish last year and win Lingard’s first-ever medal at the tournament.
When he catches me looking, Ralph gives a small shake of his head, misery all over his face. With this loss, he’s ending the tournament with six points out of a maximum of eight, so the best place he can hope for now is fourth. That’s got to hurt. I offer him a sympathetic smile before he trudges off into the crowd.
My eyes open wide. There’s a crowd? At least twenty people are clustered around my table, staring straight at my chessboard. It’s a mix of my fellow competitors— mostly boys who have already finished their games— their parents and coaches, and a couple of competition officials.
I recognize almost all of them because the competitive chess community in Northern California is pretty small. But there’s a man at the front I don’t think I’ve seen before. He’s wearing a serious-looking lanyard around his neck and scribbling away in a notebook. I squint to make out the two words on his badge:
ChessChamps
Media
ChessChamps is the biggest chess magazine in the country. Last month, they did an exclusive interview with Ding Liren, the world chess champion. A middle school chess competition is nothing compared to the world championship, so what’s a reporter from ChessChamps doing here? And why is he, and everyone else, looking at my game?
“Draw?”
My eyes snap to Eric’s face at the sound of his voice. If I accept his draw offer, the game ends now with a half point for each of us. So we would both finish the tournament with six and a half points. But because Eric has a slightly better tiebreaker score, he’d clinch at least third place. Meanwhile, a draw would put me anywhere between third and fifth depending on how the other players’ final games go.
Without hesitation, I shake my head. No way I’m accepting his draw offer, not when I’m so close to a medal I can basically feel its weight around my neck. I can already imagine the proud smiles on my parents’ faces when they see me up on stage accepting my medal from the president of the California Schools Chess Association. I’ll be the first State medalist my school has ever had—and on my debut at State too!
Eric shrugs and moves his queen to the left side of the board. She’s now pointed right at my knight.
The gears in my head whir into action. My knight is currently protected by a pawn, but what if . . . I move that pawn away? Eric will think the knight is defenseless and capture it with his queen, not realizing it’s a poisoned bait. Once his queen is deep in my territory, I can trap her with my rook and two bishops.
The moment I move my pawn, the crowd bursts into whispers. Someone even gasps. I squash down the urge to giggle. It’s just a chess move, but they make it seem really dramatic, like they’re watching a bullfight. How will they react once I play my surprise winning move?
I sit up straighter and flex my fingers. The moment Eric captures my knight, I’m ready to swing my light-squared bishop out and set the queen trap.
But Eric’s hand drifts past his queen and reaches for his rook instead. Grasping the rook firmly between his fingers, he moves it two squares to the right and attacks my king.
My eyes widen as the crowd falls silent. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. What’s Eric trying to—
Oh. My blood runs cold as Eric’s plan hits me. He’s played a zwischenzug, a word I’ve always struggled to pronounce that basically means delaying his most obvious move (capture my knight) to first deliver a threat. His attack on my king can easily be blocked by my rook. But with my rook occupied, I won’t have all the pieces I need to set up the trap. He’ll be able to capture my knight on his next turn without losing anything.
My stomach sinks all the way to my Converse, and there’s a loud pounding in my head. This can’t be happening. There must still be a way around this.
Biting my lip, I lean forward and cup my hands around my eyes as though narrowing my field of vision will allow me to catch something I’ve missed, something that might help me rescue the game. Beads of sweat roll down my temples despite the air-conditioning being on full blast, making my bangs stick to my forehead even as goose bumps sprout all over my skin. Why did I play that knight sacrifice? If I had gone with a safer move, I wouldn’t be stuck in the position I am now—about to lose.
After what feels like an eternity, I finally force myself to accept the truth: I’m so screwed. I have no choice but to defend my king with my rook.
Sure enough, Eric’s queen immediately swoops down on my knight. One whole piece down, I play on for a few more moves and try to set another trap for Eric, but he’s too good to fall for my desperate tricks.
Finally, on move forty-seven, I knock my king over. I swallow hard and say over the lump in my throat, “I resign.”
****
My parents are waiting for me right outside the playing hall, both wearing hopeful smiles on their faces. I probably look like the balloon that I kept for way too long after my birthday—sad and deflated—because their smiles slip as soon as they see me.
My mom opens her arms. “It’s okay, baobei,” she murmurs as I rush into her embrace. “It’s okay.”
Dad bends until he’s eye level with me. “May, losses happen to everyone. And as the saying goes—”
“Dad, please,” I sigh. He’s a philosophy professor and always has some motivational quote for every situation. But right now, I don’t want to hear any wise words from some man who has been dead for a thousand years.
“As the saying goes, ‘Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fall,’ ” Dad continues, undeterred. “There will always be other competitions, May. Other medals you can win.”
I cast my eyes down on my sneakers. “Yeah, I guess.” But as much as it hurts to miss out on a state championship medal, what bothers me the most is that I misjudged the game so badly. I thought I was playing well, that I was about to outplay last year’s runner-up. But in the end, I didn’t understand chess as well as Eric did.
At least I have a lesson with my chess coach coming up soon. I can’t wait to review this game with Mr. Wang and see where I went wrong. The next time I’m up against Eric Malik, I’ll be ready to play a better game.
Mom wraps an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me toward the exit and away from the hall where the award ceremony will be held. “Baobei, let’s head home.”
I nod, too tired to speak. All I want to do now is climb under my covers, hope my parents feel sorry enough to let me eat matcha ice cream in bed, and call Becca. She’s my best friend and the only other girl in chess club, but only Ralph and I qualified for State this year. If she were here, she would have known how to cheer me up.
Footsteps tip-tap behind me. “May, congratulations!”
I turn around to find the ChessChamps reporter beaming at me, his dark hair gleaming beneath the overhead lights.
“I’m Chad, a reporter at ChessChamps. We’re a—”
“I know you guys!” I exclaim. I mean, who doesn’t? Every chess player I know reads their magazine. “I loved the Ding Liren interview in the last issue.”
My mom’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “Sir, I think you may have the wrong person.”
“Oh, I’m sure I got the right person,” Chad says, still smiling. “May, you’re not leaving before the prize ceremony, are you? Because with a performance rating of 1746, you’ve just won the inaugural ChessChamps−Judit Polgár Award!”
I freeze, my mouth falling open. I’m sure I look the opposite of cool right now, but—“I just won what?”
Chad chuckles at my exclamation. “You’ve heard of Judit Polgár, right?”
“Of course! She’s only the greatest female chess player of all time.” The Hungarian legend is one of the few women who have ever made it into the world’s top one hundred players.
“That’s right! And ChessChamps wants to help discover the next Judit Polgár, so we are giving a special award to girls who perform exceptionally. And as the only girl who finished in the top ten today, you were the clear winner!”
It takes a few moments for Chad’s words to sink in. “Oh my god, I won a medal?” I screech, hearing my voice echo down the long, empty hallway.
“A trophy, technically,” he says with a grin. “And you said this is only your first year participating in the state championship?” He lets out a low whistle when I nod. “Dang, I don’t think anyone saw you coming. You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?”
“A dark knight, you mean,” I joke. Thankfully, Chad laughs at my pun. It’s not my best, but oh-my-god-whocares. When I found out that I had qualified for State, the biggest competition of my life so far, my goal was to hold my own against far more experienced players. But now I’m walking away with an entire trophy of my own!
“Baobei, well done!” Mom exclaims, ruffling my hair. I’m too happy to even care about my bangs getting messed up.
“Very, very well done,” Dad agrees with the biggest smile ever on his face. Even bigger than the one he had when he got a teaching award two years ago.
“I would love to interview you for ChessChamps as part of our Bright Young Talents column,” Chad says. “How does that sound?”
“That sounds great!” I can’t wait to tell Mr. Wang and Becca and everyone else at chess club that I’m going to appear in a magazine. And not just any magazine but the publication for chess players.
Just then, a voice blares out over the loudspeakers. “Competitors and visitors, please make your way to the playing hall for the prize ceremony.”
“I’ll find you after the ceremony, May,” Chad says. “And congratulations once again on your amazing achievement.” He waggles his finger at me. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you from now on. You’re no longer a dark horse—I mean, dark knight—and this is only the beginning of what I’m sure will be an incredible chess career for you.”
The moment Chad disappears around the corner, my mom stoops down and hugs me so tightly that I can barely breathe. “Oh, I can’t believe my daughter has won a trophy at her very first state championship! You are our biggest prize, May.”
“After the ceremony, let’s go out to celebrate,” Dad says, taking out his phone. “I’ll call Din Tai Fung now and make a reservation.”
My eyes go wide. “But tomorrow is Monday.” My parents never let me go out on a school night. And we rarely eat out, especially not at Din Tai Fung because it’s a half-hour drive away and expensive.
Mom smooths my hair back. “This is a special occasion, and you deserve a treat!”
I clasp my hands together. “Can I order the chocolate xiaolongbao?” The only thing better than soup dumplings is when the “soup” is made of piping-hot chocolate that oozes out like the most delicious lava. But Mom, being a doctor, is really strict about how many sweets I eat.
To my surprise, she merely laughs. “Sure, sure. I’ll even buy you as many Chessmen cookies as you want after dinner.”
Wow, my parents must be really happy if they are willing to let me eat so much sugar this late at night. And all it took was me winning a chess award. My mouth is already salivating at the thought of the chocolate xiaolongbao, but just seeing Mom and Dad this happy makes me feel full.
