A few minutes ago this writer finished reading a remarkably interesting article at Chess.com. This may come as a surprise to regular readers because I have made no bones about my dislike of Chess.com. Nevertheless, I surf over each day because occasionally they publish an article in which interest is found. The title of the article by NM Todd Bryant is: Can Adults Improve At Chess? (https://www.chess.com/article/view/can-adults-improve-at-chess)
After reading it for the second time the second cuppa Joe of the day was made in order to help jump start the brain neurons prior to punchin’ & pokin’. The story of how and why I began playing Chess as an adult will follow a story concerning an adult who decided to learn Chess at an advanced age.
When working at the Atlanta Chess Center the Legendary Georgia Ironman came to me asking if I would consider giving Chess lessons to a young man new to the game. The gentleman had graduated college and law school prior to joining a prominent law firm in Atlanta.
“Why do you ask, Tim?”
“I flared up on him, Mike,” said the Ironman while hanging his head in shame.
After listening to his tale of woe the decision was made to meet the gentleman.
It was a middle of the week when the prospective adult student made his entrance into a new world. Up the stairs we went and after taking a seat across the Chessboard introductions were made. The young man was surprised to learn someone he mentioned was known. “You would be surprised to learn the names of many people I have met because of Chess,” I said.
“Like who?” he inquired.
“Jimmy Carter,” came the reply. His eyes enlarged upon hearing the name, so I continued, “His son, Jack, played tournament Chess and I worked with him a few times.”
“Did you meet Jimmy?” he inquired.
“Several times,” I said. “He has a handshake like a vice grip while looking you straight in the eyes.”
Then we got down to business.
Long story made short, the lesson was stopped after asking the question, “Why do you want to play Chess?”
After listening to his reasons and learning everything had come easy to him up to that point in his life, my story of beginning at twenty was shared. “Chess is the most difficult thing I have ever done,” I said.
After talking a little while he said, “Maybe I have bitten off more than I can chew.”
“Maybe,” was all I said.
The young fellow stood up and pulled out his wallet.
“Keep your money, my friend,” I said.
“But I owe you something,” he said.
“Getting to know you was more than enough payment, sir. I wish you good fortune in life,” was the last thing said to the gentleman, who smiled before turning to walk down the steps and out the door of the House of Pain.
My father taught me to play Chess, a game he learned while serving in the Navy during World War Two, when I was sixteen. The first two games we played he beat me like a drum, causing me to purchase a small paperback book by Fred Reinfeld, titled, How To Play Chess. Ronald continued asking if I would like to play. The answer was invariably “No” until finishing the book. He continued asking until the day the answer was “Yes.” His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree before he produced a sinister smile with a look on his face that projected, “Dead meat!”
The man did not know it but he was in for what he was so fond of telling me I would have one day; a “rude awakening.”
Now having a clue about what to do my father was flummoxed because it was not what he was expecting. He went down in flames, shaking his head, saying, “Must be beginners luck. Another game?”
“Sure,” came the immediate reply. I glanced over at Mother, who was doing her best to stifle a grin.
After thrashing Ronald in the second game he lost it, raking the pieces off of the board, obviously mad as a hatter. It has been far too long ago for me to recall exactly what happened next but there is a vivid memory of Mother saying, “That’s MY BOY!” Ronald was INFURIATED and left the room. We never played another game of Chess. My father had to know, so he asked me if I would play a game or two with a neighbor who knew the game. I agreed, and played Bill Jones, and his son, Larry, a few games, beating them handily. Larry and I attended the same grammar and high schools. The only thing I recall is that Larry used all of his opening moves setting up a picket fence, leaving holes in his position, which were easily exploited. After learning of my prowess at Chess cousin Carl Hendrix asked if I would like to play one of his fellow employees at Eastern Air Lines. Because the way my father had reacted to defeat I begged off. That was a, as IM Boris Kogan was so fond of saying about one of my Chess moves, “BEEG Mistake.” The co-worker turned out to be a fellow named Bob Joiner, who later won the 1969 Georgia State Championship with an undefeated 5-0 score. Later Bob offered to purchase a brick to place beside the one he purchased at the then home of the USCF in Crossville, Tennessee, but the offer was declined. I did meet Bob later and after earning his degree in his off hours he became a Public Defender in Fulton County, Georgia, which is the county in which Atlanta is located. My brain contains fond memories of going to Bob’s office to eat lunch while playing Chess with a clock. I helped Bob on cases by doing investigative work pro bono. Later, when behind bars with no bond because of a sordid situation involving, you guessed it, a crazed Chess player, Bob, after returning from vacation, which caused me to suffer much more time in jail, interceded on my behalf and a bond was set, allowing me a Get Out of Jail card.
After earning a scholarship from the Boys Club I attended a junior college after taking a year off from school to work. It was there a gentleman was met, Dr. James Doig, a philosophy professor. Dr. Doig, a former Jesuit priest, had a HUGE influence on my future when handing me his personal copy of The Story of Philosophy, by Will Durant, saying, “If you read this book you will know more about philosophy than ninety nine and forty four percent of people.” Dr. Doig may have ended with, “in America, or “on the planet.” I simply cannot recall. Because of Dr. Doig I have continued reading about philosophy all my life. (https://xpertchesslessons.wordpress.com/2021/11/24/spinoza/)(https://xpertchesslessons.wordpress.com/2022/06/09/im-stuart-rachels-was-the-best-alabama-saw-in-chess/)
Dr. Doig also asked me a question that altered my life: “Do you play Chess?”
Dr. Doig was a gentleman and scholar, who was gracious in defeat. My path on the Chess road was found because of Dr. Doig. Although not religious it was also because of Dr. Doig this writer found his way to several retreats at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit, in Conyers, Georgia, a wonderful place, during a period of crisis (https://www.trappist.net/).
After defeating Dr. Doig the reaction was completely different from that of my father. He was gracious after each game lost. I am not ashamed to say I loved the man. I shudder to think of what the outcome of my life might have been if I had not met Dr. Doig. This was during a time when the Fools In Power killed JFK in order to send many thousands of Americans to their needless deaths in Viet Nam and I was involved in the anti-war movement. Because of Dr. Doig my battles were fought on the Chessboard, and not in the streets.
After handily winning a Chess tournament organized by Dr. Doig I “won” free entry into a United States Chess Federation tournament. I say “won” because later it was learned Dr. Doig had put up the money for my entry. All six games ended in my defeat. The only one recalled was a very long last round battle in which a gentleman named Al Cass won a single pawn and nursed that sucker across the board to make a Queen and checkmated yours truly. It was terribly embarrassing to inform my family and friends that I was a “loser” because they had high expectations. My father said something with an excrement eatin’ grin about my learning a “lesson” or some such. Infuriated, my life was then devoted to becoming better at Chess in order to wipe that stinking grin off of his face.
For many years I told people my initial USCF rating was 1064 because that was the first rating seen in Chess Life magazine. I was disabused of that notion when Senior Master Klaus Pohl brought a copy of my first rating to the House of Pain, pleased to show everyone I began as a triple digit player, which was in the 800’s. I had once defeated SM Pohl in a USCF rated tournament and I think Larry Evans published the game in his column, or it was published in the Recent Games column of a Chess Life magazine, which infuriated Klaus.
In 1974 I tied for first place in the Atlanta Chess Championship with a score of 4-1. A group of players were tied for first place heading into the last round and the tournament director, Jared Radin, was also playing in the event. I believe Jared had previously won the same event, or maybe even the Georgia State Championship. Maybe someone reading this will do the research and elucidate readers in the future. A player, Wayne Watson, from New York, was the highest rated player in contention. An uproar ensued after Jared posted the pairings and he had paired himself with your truly, the lowest rated player in the group. A phone call was placed to Mike Decker, one of the strongest Chess players in Atlanta, and also a tournament director. Mike graduated from Emory University with not one, but two PhDs, and was held in extremely high regard by the Chess community. Mike had also befriended me and helped me greatly on the Chess path. Mike said the pairing made by Jared could be made, but under the circumstances he should give serious consideration to making the alternate pairing. The initial pairing made by Jared stood. Everyone expected Jared would defeat his much lower rated opponent.
Some time earlier Jared and I had met Grandmaster Bent Larsen
at the Atlanta airport and taken him to the hotel the night prior to the simultaneous exhibition he was to give the next night. We were to take the GM out for dinner, but Jared begged off, so it was only this writer and GM Larsen at the dining table. Without giving specifics, it was one of the most pleasurably and informative evenings of my life. I had first met Bent at the San Antonio 1972 Chess tournament,
and he remembered me, which was, frankly, surprising. Bent surprised me again by asking about how I got into Chess and my strength, etc. To make a long story short, the time spent with Bent affected my play immensely. Bent was known for playing 1 b3 to begin a game, and it was discussed at length over drinks. Bent beat me like a drum in the simultaneous exhibition. I also lost to Jude Acers in a simul, but managed to defeat him at the World Chess Table in New Orleans some years later.
Let us return to the last round game of the 1974 Atlanta Chess Championship. Wayne Watson won his game handily and it did not take much time.
The white pieces were mine versus Jared and the game was opened with 1 b3. It was a very long game. When Jared extended his hand I became the 1974 Atlanta Chess Champion because Mr. Watson was from New York and ineligible for the honor. Players were saying, “Can you believe it? We now have a class B player for Champion.”
There was no Atlanta Chess Championship in 1975. The next ACC was in 1976 and it was won with a 5-0 score. Two of the players defeated were Justin Morrison, who owns Kid Chess (https://www.kidchess.com/) here in Atlanta, and his father, Earle Morrison, in the last round game. It was the high water mark of my Chess career.
After discovering Gammons (see previous post https://xpertchesslessons.wordpress.com/2023/11/16/the-new-kid-in-town/) and then leaving Chess for several years, I was never the same player although I did increase my rating to over 2000 during a time when the rating system was down and followed by a period of rating deflation. The Legendary one mentioned that if the adjustments had not been made and the bonus points were still in effect I would have made it over the 2100 hurdle. Be that as it may, because of having Aphantasia (https://xpertchesslessons.wordpress.com/2023/05/26/aphantasia/) it is more than a little obvious I would never have become a National Master. This writer can be content knowing he derived about as much out of Chess as possible under the circumstances.
Armchair Warrior 