The memory of the summer I learned to play chess still makes me smile. On sunny days, my best friend Scott would walk to my house in Montreal with his chess set under his arm. He patiently taught me everything he knew. (At 10 or 11 years old, our wisdom was vast!!!) He would also set up challenges from a reference book and we would race to see who could figure it out first. (I don't think I ever managed to win!)
Years later, after I'd moved to B.C., I was working at a golf resort. To allay the boredom during the winter months when there weren't many guests, the kitchen staff would set up chess games, using the tiles on the floor as the board. The "King" was a one litre wine carafe, filled with water and food colouring; the Queen, a half litre and so on. The pawns were juice glasses, forcing the players to bend almost in half to move them to another square.
Yes, they SHOULD have been wiping the (already clean!) surfaces, but the joy it gave all of the staff to watch these games made the quiet times pass quickly. The order board became the list of who would play the winner.
For some reason, logic in the game has eluded me since the beginning. My brain doesn't anticipate what the opponent MAY do. I simply play my battle and wait to see what happens.
This "lack" of forethought resulted in winning a game against my former landlord. A Hungarian chess expert, he played against computers, even strangers in parks. During our game, I sacrificed my Queen. Horrified, he put his head in his hands and asked, "What are you THINKING?!" You can imagine his overwhelming shock when I later said, "Checkmate!" I can't tell you how I did it but it is a victory that I savour to this day.
Learning to play chess was a gift in my life. However, kids are like puppies, living only in the moment. I'm sure I never thanked Scotty for spending those sunny summer days with me.
Yet sitting here, over 50 years later, I'm infinitely grateful to know that it was my best friend who taught me something so valuable.
Thank you for spending this time with me,
Lori xx