How I started playing Chess

Not too long ago I told the tale of how Dad gave Mom banjo lessons for Christmas...and we almost burned the certificate for them...in passing I commented that it started my chess career. And now, despite popular demand, I shall tell that tale.

Mom's banjo teacher, Jan, liked to play at various coffee house open mic nights. She was very much in the folk tradition...she liked to write and play her own songs. Now, Jan was indeed a talented banjo player. However, there is not a huge market for solo banjo albums. It is a fine instrument for accompaniment but few and far between are the people who want to hear the banjo played alone. So Jan exercised her musical chops at open mics.

One problem with doing that is you never know if the audience will be pleased with your performance. When you walk up to an open mic, often the people do not know what to expect....will it be comedy, poetry, slam poetry, a song? Obviously, with a banjo in hand it is easy to guess music...well, slowly but surely Jan was building a following and she was encouraging Mom and Dad both to play a number at these open mics. Before they did that, however, they decided to go see her one night when she was actually playing a set.

Sue and I got dragged along. At the time I was about 8 years old. When you are 8 and not interested in the least in banjo music, the thought of a night in a coffee shop listening to it might fill your heart with dread. I was and it did.

So while Mom and Dad settled in with their coffee to listen to Jan's set, I wandered the coffee shop. And lo and behold...I found something to play with. They had this checkerboard only instead of checkers there was a horse, a castle, and other weird pieces. I started screwing around with them a bit. Soon I could see a bit of how they moved. Dad saw me goofing around with it and explained how each piece moved. So for the rest of that night...indeed, a few times in the future...I would play with the chess board while they enjoyed the music.

The next day he set up a chess board properly and started showing me how to play. I took to the game instantly. As a result, that Christmas I got a book replaying, with commentary, numerous classic chess games. I read the book a lot. As I was reading it, I would set up the pieces and play the game with them. I studied their strategies and what worked, why it worked, what didn't, and why it didn't.

The next year I started public school. Turned out they had a chess team. The team was pretty much set, everyone knew who was the best, but the school had open tryouts. My friend Mike Bush and I tried out for the team. We both did well enough to go to the regionals.

Actually, I did better than "well enough". I did not lose a game. And it was more of the same at the regional qualifier.

I was unknown since I was a new student. I do not know how the match-ups were set but I know I ran the table. After my opponent's first move I knew I would win the first game. Without going too much into strategy, I could see he was trying one of the locally popular openings that involved a defensive set-up revolving around one side of the board. I played my preferred Queen Side opening and blew him away. When the dust settled I had won all my games and was on the team.

We had a particularly strong team that year. First board (and considered the strongest player) was Scott Barchus, a 6th grader. 2nd board, just a hair behind him, was Gary Bair, a 5th grader. 4th board was Sam Barchus, a fellow 4th grader (and yes, younger brother of Scott). I was 3rd board.

At the tournament we had an excellent showing. I won all my games. Scott had a draw or two and Gary actually lost a game if I recall correctly, though it has been a long time. Anyway, we finished third in the entire state for 6th grade and below. Not bad for my debut into the competitive world.

The next year the regionals were pretty funny. Mr. Chaffin, the chess coach, really, really wanted a girl to make the team. So he picked one in particular and was showing her stuff. Well, it turned out her make or break game was against me. If she beat me she could play in the regionals, if not then she was out. And I, despite having not lost in tournament play yet, was on the hook. If I lost, I was out. I still cannot figure out how that worked...

Anyway, in my game against her, Mr. Chaffin was watching...just replace the word "watching" with the phrase "telling her which pieces to move where and sometimes physically moving the pieces, allowing her to change pieces after touching one despite the 'touch-move' rule" and you will have a pretty good idea of how the game was going. Did not matter. I had studied so hard, played so many games, many of them against myself, others against Dad, that I can say I was honestly better than him. Actually, she was better than him.

So I beat him...err, beat her. And he admitted he had interfered in the game and gave her a re-match! Well...I won that one too. And off to regionals.

There I was again running the table when in the finals I was matched against Gary Bair. It was a foregone conclusion that A) he would be first board as he also had not lost in the tournament...actually, to this point the only person he had lost to that I knew about was Scott the prior year...and B) we were both on the team. So this was a battle for first position at the tournament. Actually, there was a C) it was also a foregone conclusion he would beat me.

But something strange happened. I played the strong queen side opening of the masters, he was playing the slower, defensive style of the French Defense. I made a play that had the watchers stunned, sacrificing my bishop for position. Gary made his move....and I check-mated him. I actually did not realize it. I thought he had several outs, but the trap I had laid for my NEXT move actually worked on this one. I beat him 1 move faster than I thought I would.

Now, after 2 years, I had not lost in regionals and the first year did not lose in state. The first year I was 3rd board...this year, inexplicably, I was moved down to 4th board. Huh? I have not lost, I beat the best player in school...why am I LOWER this year than last? Well, with Gary and Sam holding the top 2 spots, Bob Humbert slid into the third slot. That was unfortunate.

Bob was a good player...but at the tournament he got too excited to go check out OMSI between rounds so he got in too much of a hurry. Chess players in a hurry are chess players making mistakes. Gary, Sam and I played well...Bob lost all his games. We did not place.

6th grade was a repeat...again I was left in 4th board despite never having lost a tournament game. I was dominant at State...one game I actually still feel bad about. Atypically I opened with the 4-move mate potential. Generally I am aggressive, using a Queen side opening but for whatever reason on this game I opened King side. I slid the bishop out. Still no response. I slid the Queen out, which I NEVER develop that early. No response. Boom, check mate, game.

Then I found out he had JUST learned the game, was a replacement for the replacement for the guy who was supposed to be there...and I obliterated the poor kid with a move that most players defend against from their second game on. He was cool about it, though.

Anyway, we had a pretty mediocre year that year and after that I was done with tournament play since our Junior High did not have a team.

It was a good experience.

On a side note, Dad and I continued to play. After a couple of years I was beating him pretty regularly and later I beat him game after game after game. Then, when I was 18, he and I were on a trip together. One night in our nightly game he caught me being cocky and overconfident and beat me...and retired from the game. It was a great moment. He took me from unaware of the game to a skilled tournament player...and still went out on a win.

But there were some great experiences in between...like the St. Helens animal patrol officer whose family loved to watch me come over and play their computer. They could not believe how many levels I could beat. Or playing at lunch at work. I miss the game...some day I should play again.