The Tale of Gukesh

Life offers moments that stop us in our tracks—when brilliance transcends expectation, leaving us spellbound by what humans are capable of achieving.

Such moments are the essence of Awe-njoyment: In watching masters of their craft perform, leaving you feeling inspired, humbled, energized, and uplifted all at once.

Gukesh Dommaraju’s rise to chess immortality gives us one such moment.

Beginning to play at 7 years old—which is actually on the older side for many of the world’s top chess masters—just 5 years later he would become one of the youngest-ever Grandmasters, which is absolutely fucking insane…

But the insanity of Gukesh’s story doesn’t stop there.

As an 11-year-old, he made an extraordinary declaration:

“I want to be the world’s youngest world chess champion.”

Many folks make bold claims about what they'll do, become, or achieve.

Many folks make bold claims about what they'll do, become, or achieve.

Few back up their words…

And fewer still can make an audacious claim like Gukesh and succeed.

Even for someone as gifted as Gukesh, the odds were daunting.

But on December 12th, 2024, a now 18-year-old, Gukesh became the youngest World Chess Champion of all time, defeating the reigning champion Ding Liren in the final round of a gruelling 14-round battle that see-sawed from start to finish.

Gukesh's championship-clinching round 14 victory was a historic achievement, made ever more extraordinary by the arc of his journey to the top—a testament to the audacity of dreams and the quiet magic of incremental progress.

Becoming the best in an arena as cerebral as chess requires not just talent but also tireless dedication, resilience, and a mind capable of navigating a labyrinth of possibilities under immense pressure. In addition, the immense difficulty in just earning the chance to challenge the reigning world champ cannot be understated.

(If you’re interested: World Chess Champion hopefuls must first qualify for the Candidates Tournament, which can be done by placing in the top three at the World Cup; in the top two at the Grand Swiss; in the two of the FIDE Circuit—a series of tournaments held over ~18 months between the Championship Matches; or by having the highest rating of those who haven’t qualified via one of the above paths.

Basically, you have to consistently beat the best players in the world over a span of two years—and then win a double round robin tournament against 7 others who performed as well as you did.)

So the scale of Gukesh’s ambition was nothing short of audacious, and yet, his audacity sparked the beginning of something monumental.

Over the seven years following his ‘youngest world champion’ claim, he built his legacy one match, one tournament at a time—learning from his defeats, sharpening his skills with each setback. He faced players decades older, with more experience, and already unshakable in their mastery of the game… And still, he persisted.

This is where the true magic lies—in the hours spent studying openings, memorizing moves, and playing games that never make headlines… In the repeated failures that became stepping stones, not stumbling blocks… This is the same slow magic that any pursuit of excellence demands: Brick by brick, step by step, inch by inch.

The match against Ding Liren was not just a test of skill; but a battle of wills.

Chess at this level is as much about endurance as strategy. Each move is a delicate dance between calculation and intuition, with the smallest error capable of unraveling hours of meticulous planning and preparation—and your hopes.

When Gukesh delivered the final move to dethrone Ding, capitalizing on a crucial, game-ending mistake by the reigning champ, he didn’t just win—he crystallized the vision that had been seven years in the making into cold, hard reality.

And yet, here’s the most remarkable part: 

Gukesh is still blooming. At 18, he’s far from reaching his peak abilities. What we’ve witnessed is not the conclusion of his story, but merely the opening chapters.

What makes Gukesh’s journey so awe-inspiring isn’t just the scale of his accomplishment but his manner of achievement. He reminds us that mastery is not a sudden eruption, but a steady ascent—the ability to endure the unglamorous grind, to trust in the process even when the rewards feel distant, to keep moving forward in the face of setbacks and defeat (of which there were plenty).

Gukesh’s victory isn’t just a triumph of chess, but a testament to human potential—to what can happen when big dreams meet unwavering dedication and consistency.

And so there’s a lesson in Gukesh’s journey for all of us, whether you’re an aspiring chess champions or simply trying to master your own corner(s) of life:

The pursuit of excellence is rarely linear, often lonely, and always demanding. But it’s also an invitation to dream boldly, to embrace the grind, and to find joy in the act of slowly getting better, brick by brick, step by step, inch by inch, day by day.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander

(AKA: Wiz, WOW, and The Wizard of Wordcraft)