| Sumario: | "My second-grade teacher noticed. She guided me out of the classroom and into the hall. She gently asked why on earth I was crying over a game of bingo. As only a precocious 8-year-old could, I tried to explain that I hated bingo because it required no skill. It was pure luck. There was no strategy to employ, no natural talent to rely on to win. Either your numbers were called, or they weren't. I couldn't extract value out of a win. There was no meaning to victory-although loss still hurt. My teacher gently explained that it was "just a game" and encouraged me to enjoy it. But that's the thing. There has been nothing in my life that has been "just a game." Every win was a small indication that things would work out, that I'd be okay. Every loss was a devastating reminder that I could lose everything-and probably would."--
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