Lamenting chess

It would be difficult for me to overstate my affection for chess. I think it is the finest, most beautiful game ever conceived. Part of its seduction is that I believe that a true “solution” for chess lies just beyond human ability. It is that gap that attracts, and makes, lunatics. (The best chess players have generally been basket cases in one way or another; in fact, we are living through the first time in recorded history that many of the world’s best chess players also seem to be otherwise well-adjusted human beings.)

My single favorite characteristic of chess is its purity. It is precise, brutal, decisive, and totally unclouded by luck or ambiguity. The chessboard is the least hospitable environment for nonsense on the planet. You’re not going to be saved by a dice roll, and there will not be a fortunately placed power-up, and your smarmy, lipless smile and obsequious attitude aren’t going to get you out of the tedious work assignment or into her pants this time, skippy. If you lose, then you didn’t play well enough. Period.

As much as I enjoy the game, it’s been bittersweet for me lately. Six years ago I attended Huntsville Chess Club meetings every Monday night, and played at least one challenging (200+ points above my rating) standard game on the Internet Chess Club every other night. At least weekly, I tried to spend three or four uninterrupted hours on some aspect of the game (learning the Lucena position, pawn scrimmages, stuff like that).

But I don’t do that anymore, and don’t play so much at all right now. Since we became parents, it’s often 10 pm or later before I have the uninterrupted time for a standard game, and by then my mental acuity isn’t what I think it should be for serious chess. I feel like I’m cheating myself if I play when I’m fatigued, and I second-guess myself to pieces on that basis when I drop one.

I still pay my annual dues on ICC, though if I ever get on at all anymore I usually play blitz, which is a hell of a lot of fun but absolute poison for my game. It’s almost like I’m paying $60 for the hope that I’ll find a way to bring all of my brain to the board sometime in the following year. In any case, it will be there when I’m ready.

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4 thoughts on “Lamenting chess”

  1. I played 9th board (out of nine) on my high school chess team. I had a lot of fun but I was never a serious student of the game. I remember being humbled in my freshman year of college. The college chess team was putting on a demonstration and if you beat one of their members you won a free mini-chess set. It was perfect for playing in your car on a road trip. I thought it was going to be a piece of cake since my opponent was also playing something like 10 other challengers at the same time. Soon I was in the fight of my life and this guy would just casually stroll up to my board, examine it for about 10 – 20 seconds, make his move, and then move on to the next guy. I got spanked and so did the other challengers. On that day I realized that making this chess team was not in my future.

    Bob230

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  2. Chess is a game that I always wanted to learn, but it just blows my mind. As much as I try to learn the strategy, I’m constantly being whooped by my opponents.

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  3. Bob: Yeah, that sounds familiar, except for me it was the HCC and not the college team. I tell people now who seem interested in the game beyond the casual: “when you get to the point where none of your friends can beat you, go down to the chess club.” I spent the first month or so of my attendance in a lot of doubt, I’ll say that.

    Lesley: If you’re interested in an excellent beginner’s book, I recommend Play Winning Chess by Yasser Seirawan. He is conversational and clear, and won’t blow your mind!

    It’s a beautiful game. If you think you’re interested, just take it slowly. You’ll be surprised how much becomes ingrained and how quickly it happens.

    Thomas: Glad to hear it. 🙂

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