Thus far writing my blog has proved to be therapy for me. I get to write about the biggest life-altering event in my 51 years and its effect upon how I live and view life. Since it's all about me, I can write whatever I wish. I wish to write about Chess.
Through the years Chess has meant for a me a passion, a hobby and lately a diversion to help me balance my thoughts about life. My earliest chess introduction stems from the legendary Bobby Fischer vs Boris Spassky world championship of 1972. Now almost 40 years later, this match is remembered not so much for its games but from the struggle of personalities associated with it. The mercurial Fischer has passed from icon to Mythic Figure to symbolize the lone chess genius able to defeat the world armed with nothing more than brains and desire and ego. It is a classic Horatio Alger story for the Chess world.
I played this game with single-minded pursuit in my youth, but by the time I left home at 18 the game and I had become distant. Years passed, and I played but rarely. Then with the Internet came the Great Online Gaming community. I learned that my hiatus from the game didn't interfere with my skills, as I quickly found out I had none. Also, playing opponents from around the world at 1AM is not optimum. I was rather disappointed; playing online is like playing against a computer (and sometimes the two are the same). Playing chess is a social sport, despite the perceived view that chess is for the 'socially distant' members of society.
After my initial round of chemotherapy finished, and just before my Liver surgery I found myself with some free time. A couple of things happened, one is I began to think about the upcoming surgery. I thought about it a lot. Unlike my first surgery, which was over in days, I had almost six weeks to contemplate the consequences of any failure. Worse, I had time to construct many many 'worst case' scenarios if the surgery went awry. Thinking of all those scenarios was not conducive to my mental and emotional health. Bike riding was a nice distraction, but a) it's hot out and b) I can't ride umpteen hours a day (yet). I needed a diversion that would let me enjoy my life and not allow me to think about the herd of tumours rampaging through my body.
The second thing is I found Chess, or perhaps it found me. The local Windsor Chess club was holding a series of weekend tournaments at the University of Windsor. So one fine sunny Saturday morning, I sauntered (because people would think it odd if I sashayed... ) off to the tournament site. I met the Tournament Director, a very nice fellow who of course encouraged me to join. Since I was looking for a casual game, the stress of a tournament wasn't exactly what I needed. I was curious to see how tournaments were run, and the calibre of the games.
What I found was that the veteran players are very, very good. Master class, way out of my league. But the real surprise were the kids: they are serious about the game and absolutely fierce competitors! I had an opportunity to play one young man, say 10 years old just before the tournament started. He beat me. I lost so badly to him that I wasn't even embarrassed, merely astonished at how good a 'small child' could be. He was gracious in his win, we shook hands in the gentlemanly way, and he kindly offered to play me again. This time I didn't play him like a kid. I admired the way he hung on, hoping for a stalemate as I crushed him, taking all of his pieces leaving him with only a king and no chance to win. My victory against a 10 year old only showed how much I didn't know about this damn game!
Having one's technical (in)abilities highlighted by a child, even an exceptionally gifted one, is mildly ego-deflating, to say the least. I would hang out at subsequent chess tournaments, watching, occasionally playing in the skittles room (ie. the room where non-serious chess may be played) and mostly losing. But I had achieved my objective; by playing chess I had engaged in an activity which distracted me from my surgery, my cancer and worrying about life.
Through the remainder of the summer until the time of my surgery I would venture forth to the local chess club, playing and mostly losing. In the months after surgery, I would attempt to learn in a more diligent manner, but the second round of chemo would throw me for a loop on occasion. Not exactly chemo brain but concentration was difficult. Apparently the ability to concentrate is a necessary aspect to play good chess...hmmm
With the successful completion of my surgery I realized I still wanted to play chess. Given my dismal record against 10-year-olds, I better give some thought to actually studying the game. Learning is hard, but you have to be alive to learn. The payoff though is not winning or losing a chess game, but the realization that Cancer be damned, I can still do something challenging, can still accomplish reasonable goals, and most importantly, have some fun with my life.
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