Last year, around this time: I was waiting to take part in the playoff to decide the challenger for the 18th Women's Kisei title. This was my biggest game in the 18 years of my professional career. What do people do at a time like this? They get excited and start behaving strangely.

The first thing I thought was that I needed to store up luck, so I resolved to become a fantastically well-behaved person. Every day I thought about how to behave correctly. Also, every time I saw a branch of the NTT DoKoMo company, which sponsored the tournament, I felt a ringing in my chest. I thought this excited feeling was love.

The night before the game, I was unable to sleep – it was like the day before going on a picnic.

The day of the game arrived. I started trying to psych myself up, something I'd never done before, saying to myself: 'The weather's good today. It's a good mood for playing. You can do it.' I also went to the Nihon Ki-in by a route I'd never taken before.

The game began . . .
With the state I was in, there's no need to say what the result was, but I did have chances to win. However, I couldn't play in a normal frame of mind.
The instant the game ended, the thought crossed my mind that 'it was embarrassing to have played immaturely'. When I left the playing venue and was walking down the hill [from the Nihon Ki-in], I couldn't stop crying and I walked with my face cast down.

What's more, for a few months after that, I couldn't play Go seriously, I couldn't get over this setback; it was a deplorable state of mind . . .

I can only blush at my immaturity in this memory, but it became a good experience.

Finally, many people offered me words of encouragement last year. I'm filled with heartfelt gratitude. Thank you very much.

Kaori Aoba
Professional Go player