The people of chess

I don't mean "Well, then he moved his bishop, which I totally didn't see, but then I played rook to... blah.. blah... blah... and then i made this really risky move... and I won." We all tell stories of our achievements on the board, but we don't often talk about the people we play. Have you ever met someone who suprised you, not with a funny move, but with some other aspect of themselves relating to chess? Or maybe it's not the moves in the game that matter in the story, but how the people change. Or maybe the moves of a game weren't written down so they no longer matter, but the outcome means something. Let me share three stories, one of each sort, and I hope ya'll will share yours.

Last year, I decided to do some tutoring in my spare time. There was this one young man who was determined to be the first in his family to graduate high school. He was 17 years old, and I was supposed to help him learn to read. One day, we both got bored of working on that and decided to blow off some steam by playing chess, by his suggestion. We played a few games that afternoon, and in each one I got completely blown out of the water. I realize that I'm rated quite poorly on this site, but OTB (the digital board and pieces make for a completely different view and experience for me) I figure I tend to play closer to 1450, since in high school and community college chess clubs I've been able to do quite well against those ranked lower, and everyone whose tournament ratings lied much higher could beat me often. To get back to my story, I asked the boy I was tutoring how he had gotten so good at chess, and he said that he played his parents a lot when there was nothing on TV. The boy told me he'd never read any books about it, and neither had his parents, and he'd never played in tournaments or been in the chess club, but that he just didn't like to lose.

My next story is one I've mentioned before. I know a kid from Minnesota, the nephew of a guy I know from work. Every summer since my buddy moved here, the kid and his family crashes with my friend here in Colorado to do a little vacationing. The Colorado Renaissance Festival hires folks from the surronding area to be chess-playing "monks," who'll play anyone who challenges them and pays the fee. My buddy's nephew, having won a few titles in Minnesota, was for course keen for this idea, and the first few games they played, he won pretty easily. Now he ran out of money and time before he'd had his fill, so the next year he played them some more. They didn't lose nearly as badly. Now, these guys play hundreds of games a day (they're pretty sharp) against visitors to the Festival, and their jobs depend on winning, so I can see how they'd be improving from their already strong abilities. By the third summer that my friend's nephew had been visiting, the monks were winning the vast majority of the time. Not being a fan of losing, the kid did some serious analysis of all his tournament games and came back for more. The fourth summer, it was about evenly split with some draws, and that's where it's been since then. A couple of years ago, the Festival managers offeded the kid a job as a monk, but he refused since he'd be replacing one of the guys he's come to know pretty well.

My third story is the story of what happens when one combines chess, large amounts of expresso, and adolescent judgement. Back in high school, several of my friends and I would hang out at this coffee shop, spending a lot of money, talking for hours about nothing, and generally being loud. Now, the owner finally got tired of our rowdiness, dispite our consistent business, and decided to kick us out or he'd call the cops. Rather than get kicked out in front of our girls (why the hell this seemed like a good idea, and why it mattered so much to us to be told to leave I may never know), we told him that if he beat us in chess we'd leave quietly. Since we looked like your average soon-to-be dropouts, he agreed. So everyone who wasn't just being an immature wiseacre got to work drawing up chess pieces on napkins, and a board, too. I forget who played what side, but it was about 15 high school kids against this guy, all brainstorming what was the best move. You know what they say about doing anything by comittee? Well, that's true about chess, too. Thanks to everyone who wasn't any good at chess giving their input, we lost promptly and decided not to leave. The owner of the place grabbed the phone, started dialing, and we bolted out of there. The next time we came in for coffee, he said he'd played several tournaments, placed highly, and we'd better stay quiet or find something better to bet on. He was nice guy.

First off, a shout out for D-town, go Av's!!

One of my favorite chess memories was playing chess at the Westminster chess club at a Barnes & Noble bookstore. There were some strong players to play against and learn from, so it was always a good time. I was just a hack back then...well, more so than now, but I was getting prepped for my first Denver Open, so I was playing pretty solid (Masterly...no, but I wasn't fishing it up dropping pieces). It was getting late into the night and luckily for me, the Ponomarevs showed up. Mikhail and his son Philip were playing some blitz chess, and when the elder left to go check out some books, I took my opportunity to get torn apart by the vicious Philip. I asked him if he would like to play a game of blitz, and he mentioned that they might be leaving soon. I, being the novice, challenging an expert to a blitz game, said to Philip "Oh, don't worry, this won't take long". This was meant as a knock on my own chess ability, because I knew he'd probably dispatch with me with ease. We were probably 11 or 12 moves in and he ended up dropping a piece! Philip looked at the board with disgust and resigned!! I couldn't believe it! I have always wondered if he had seen me in the following Denver Opens and figured out the fact that he lost to a lucky patzer, or if I just ended up being some mystery ninja who popped out of no where to slay him. I always found it ironic how my own self-insulting comment ended up sounding like smug bravado! Sorry Philip, congrats on Master!!