When you’re in a funk, it’s good to have chess. It’s very, very good to have chess. I would liken it to piloting a 747 . . . there are no forgiving parameters. Either you’re flying or you’re not.
Chess just makes you have to concentrate. You have no choice. Chess with real people is great, but it’s hard to find a good match . . . the only few times I actually played chess online with real people, I was demolished . . . this one dude just came out with his queen and rampaged all over me. I couldn’t quite understand what had happened, it was so merciless and brutal and quick. And very surgical . . . I want to be able to do that.
Now, the computer is more stealthy, but equally merciless.
But like I say, when you’re in a funk, chess makes you calm down. You’re immediately immersed . . . why that pawn, there? What’s the bastard getting at? Fuck that bastard . . . he has a plan and you don’t!
You look at games, say, between Kasparov and Deep Blue, and you say “Huh? What? Why the rook there . . . now?” It’s almost as if your opponent is just fucking with you (which she might be!) to provoke a hasty, panicked response.
I know I’m preaching to the choir, but chess is that perfect game, the perfect human skill that requires very little chance . . . poker is for schtrunzes.
Anyone for a game?
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