Playing Chess in Russia - The Agony of Victory
Russians have a thing for chess and, frankly, are very good at
it. Being from San Diego, I thought chess was something you put
photo albums in.
Playing Chess
Playing chess requires thinking ten or twelve steps ahead. If I
wanted to understand the Russian mind, I had to learn to play
chess. If nothing else, it would be a good way to pass the time.
This I was told by Robert, an American living in the same town
as me.
I wasn't particularly excited about learning, but gave in one
day after growing tired of staring out the window. I had seen
the movie, "Searching for Bobby Fisher". What more could I
possibly need? How hard could it be?
After beginning the game, Robert took pity on me after I
apparently made some moves that were questionable. He explained
why he was making particular moves and the resulting
implications for my king. The game proceeded slowly while he
explained strategies to his inattentive student. Then the magic
moment occurred.
I imagine every teacher suffers from the occasional
embarrassment of being outdone by a student. I like to call it
beginner's luck and invoke the empirical evidence at horse
racing tracks and Las Vegas casinos. If you're a first timer,
you will always win. It doesn't matter if you're betting on a
horse because of the color scheme or hitting on black jack while
already holding 19 in your hand. It just happens.
With our chess game, Robert had made a particular move and was
in the process of explaining it. I sat staring at the board and
thinking deep thoughts, which is to say I was wondering what was
for dinner, etc. Just then, I noticed something on the board,
moved my rook and declared, "Checkmate!"
Robert stared at the board. Then he started laughing. Then he
wanted to play again. Being a good sport, I immediately
announced my retirement as a chess player.
Unfortunately, I couldn't leave my victory alone and gloated to
a few people about it. Make no mistake, Robert would beat me a
million times if we played a million games, but you have to live
in the moment!
Within a few days, karma struck and I began to pay for my
gloating. People would start showing up at my apartment with
chessboards and, of course, vodka. The games were so laughably
one-sided it was ridiculous. Typically, I would make two moves
and then hear "Sah!" which I believe meant "check!" in Russian.
My humiliation occurred more or less every day for roughly a
month. Some of the victorious would even come back for a second
pounding. Finally, I had to take the dramatic step of refusing
to answer the door.
In the end, I set the game of chess back a few hundred years and
Robert had his vengeance.