In my town, we had a game called the “Squid Game.” We called it that because it’s played in a court shaped like a squid. The rules are simple.

Children are divided into two groups, the offense and the defense. Once the game starts, the defense can run around on two feet within bounds, while the offense outside the lines are only allowed to hop on one foot.

But if an attacker cuts through the waist of the squid passing defense, then they are given freedom to use both feet. Inspector royal. For whatever reason, we called that the inspector royal.

When we were ready for the final battle, all the attackers gathered at the entrance to the squid. In order to win, the attackers must tap the small closed-off space on the squid’s head with their foot.

But if someone on the defense manages to push you outside of the squid’s boundaries,

you die.

That’s right. You die.

Victory.

Once you tap the squid’s head, you win and yell out, “Victory.” At that moment, I felt as if I owned the entire world, exhilarated.

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