Sonder: A Reading Series
Dead Language Beer Project
Hartford
June 26, 2026
I went to check out the Sonder reading series because I’d never attended a reading event that focused more on prose than poetry. In one of those moments that can only be described as fate, I heard a story that touched me so deeply, I knew I would need a couple of days to process it before I could write about it.
In short: Rand R. Cooper reassured me that it was OK to beat up kids.
Well, indirectly beat them up.
Cooper was one of four accomplished local writers at the event, including state poet laureate Antoinette Brim-Bell, along with published authors Okey Ndibe, Louise Marburg and Erin Striff.
All of them read excerpts from larger works about earthquakes, family relationships, and the struggles of having a name that sounds like a positive affirmation. It was Cooper who spoke to my soul as a tournament player.
Cooper’s story, called "Chess Dreams," was a hilarious second-person recounting of a chess tournament he went to, where he was forced to face not one, but two juveniles on his quest to chess glory:“You shake his tiny hand. Edward's hand is tiny because he is nine years old. His chess clock is plastered with decals of Yosemite Sam. What grade are you in, you ask him? Fourth! He gives you a toothy grin. You are 52 and about to square off against someone who isn't even old enough for braces.”
As readers may recall, I attend competitive videogame tournaments in my spare time. I’ve been on both sides of this equation, both as a grown man forced to face children half my age and as the father of one of those children who go around and embarrass old men. (My son is about 100 times better than I am at videogames.)
In fact, it was only three weeks ago where I faced something like this. I entered a Dragon Ball FighterZ tournament on a whim. My first opponent wasn’t a literal child, but he still managed to make me feel old. The tournament featured a DJ, and the young man sat down, bopping his head.
“I love old school music like this!” he said as he plugged his controller in.
“Old school”? I was in school when those songs came out! This kid hadn’t even been born when I graduated from high school.
Oh well, I still destroyed him. In fact, I didn’t lose a single game on my way to grand finals–just like Cooper, who faced a 19-year-old at his tournament:
That, friends, was where disaster struck.
“Like all sports, chess illuminates character,” Cooper read, to knowing laughs in the audience. “I got greedy, a player will say afterward. Or I was lazy. Or I played scared. After turning the game around against the 19-year-old, you relax inwardly. You allow yourself to gloat. Sure enough, two moves later, an elementary miscalculation results in your losing the bishop. Game over. The blunder is so hideous, the disaster so sudden and total, you feel devastated.”
Perhaps my loss was even more devastating. You see, videogame tournaments are double elimination, so you have to lose two sets to be eliminated. Since I made it to the grand finals without losing, that meant my opponent had to beat me in two sets, each a best of five series, as opposed to me beating him one more time since I’d beat him earlier already.
Which he then proceeded to do: 3-0, 3-1. From not losing a game to dropping five in a row to finish second.
Yet even after a crushing loss, hope springs eternal. Cooper’s story ended with him already thinking about the next weekend, and the next tournament. So am I: July 17 near Boston, I go for the gold again.
I didn’t expect to find a kindred spirit in my tournament failings at a reading, but that’s the power of writing. It can connect with you at any time, in any place, and let you know that you are not the only one who sucks. That’s actually a great gift to receive on a Friday night.
NEXT
Sonder returns to Dead Language Beer Project on July 24.
Jamil goes to learn about the history of the blues.
