Sometimes You Win, and Still Lose

Chess is a funny game.

I started playing when I was 4 or 5. I must have shown some aptitude, because my parents got me a tutor - he was the former champion of Sri Lanka - and off I went. When I was 6, I beat a neighborhood kid named Stanley Kim, who later became a Grandmaster (2200+ rating) after his parents starting forcing him to play for 7 hours a day. My claim to fame, for what it's worth.

I don't recommend chess to anyone. Unless your mind is an absolute steel trap, it can lead to serious cognitive degeneration, because chess strategy starts to spread into real life, and you can't stop it. Thinking three or four moves ahead in chess is fine, but what about when it inevitably spreads to everyday actions? Before I spoke to someone, for instance, I would think of their three or four possible responses, and then think of three possible responses to each of their responses, and then it just trees out. It is exhausting, and it’s a habit that persists to this day. There's a reason Bobby Fischer lost his mind. Paul Morphy ended up wandering the streets of New Orleans naked, and died in a bathtub surrounded by women's shoes. Many of the Russian players of the 1950's and 60's ended up in psychiatric institutions. Serious play is mentally, emotionally and even physically demanding. It is not uncommon for a tournament player to burn 300 calories an hour, just from sitting there playing.

I played in a few tournaments as a kid, and then pretty much quit when I was 12. Lost interest, or there were other things I liked better - who knows. If I had to guess, it was the awful feeling of losing. But I just quit. I didn't touch a chess piece for almost 30 years.

When my kids were young, I decided to teach them. My two eldest got good - very good. And I got sucked into playing again. But now there was online chess, and thousands of people from all over the world sitting there looking for a game, and I started playing speed chess. Speed chess gives you five minutes total to make all your moves - if the flag drops on your timer, you lose. It was an adrenaline rush, but it wore off. So I started playing suicide chess, which gives you three minutes instead of five. You cannot spend more than two seconds on any given move - there just isn't enough time. You don't have time to think. You don't even have time to plan ahead. You have instinct and muscle memory, that's it. After an hour, you end up soaked with sweat. And I started playing a lot, because it is as addicting as any drug on the market. I would spend my lunch hour at work playing, not bothering to eat.

In February of 2014, we took them to the New Jersey State Amateur Tournament in Parsippany. It was a multi-day tournament, so we got a hotel room. I registered for the tournament too, but speed chess is very different from standard timed chess, so I was essentially going to the tournament cold, after 30 years, and didn’t have high expectations.

There were maybe 250 players there. I won the first five games that I played, against highly ranked opponents (I was unranked, having not played in a tournament in 30 years). By the time I sat down the sixth game, there was a legitimate shot of me placing in the tournament, probably not an outright championship, but certainly top 5. And then I played the sixth game.

Chess is not age (or gender) bracketed, so you can end up playing against a 12-year old; it's not uncommon. And I drew a kid for my final match. He likely anticipated placing in the tournament too - he had probably won all his games, which is why I drew him - they tend to match undefeated against undefeated in the finals.

We drew for the pieces, and he got white. He pushed the king's pawn E2 to E4, pretty standard. And I decided to try the Blackburne Shilling Gambit, which was fairly popular in the 1850’s but is more or less unknown now. It's the most dangerous gambit in chess, you have to sacrifice important pieces, and you end up with your left flank completely open. When it doesn't work, you are royally screwed. It's an interesting gambit in that it's the one chess defense that you actually have to sell. You can't play it confidently - it won't work. The gambit works on the premise that two of the moves that you are making are bad moves - to set up the trap, you have to make it enticing. And you have to sell it. You shouldn't overdo it, but your body language has to show that you realize that you just made a bad move. It's not much different from hustling pool or poker.

It worked. Black mates in 7 moves. And it's not mate by queen or rook, you actually pin the king and use a knight (yes, a knight) to checkmate. If you are looking for or expecting the Blackburne, it's an easy defense and you're up several pieces and facing an exposed weak-side king. If you are not prepared for it, there’s a chance you'll lose. And losing in 7 moves in a tournament can be humiliating.

The kid burst into tears. He wouldn't shake hands with me. He got up from the table and ran out of the room. After a few minutes, I went out to the lobby, where he was sitting on the floor and sobbing. I wanted to tell him that it was just one game. I wanted to tell him that he was a good player and these things happen. I wanted to offer him an unofficial rematch, right there in the hallway. I sat down on the floor next to him. And his mother laid into me. Her final shouted words in heavily accented English were "Haven't you done enough?"

I don't know if I placed in the tournament, because we skipped the awards ceremony. We got on the Garden State and drove home.

That was over 10 years ago. I haven't touched a chess piece since.

Yes, I know I wrote down the wrong year