Oh, my god! I could hardly believe it, and the thought I was daydreaming crossed my mind. When the tournament results were announced at the end of the 2007 Chess Club Championship my name was included as the under 1300-class champion. Surely, one of the tournament directors had made a mistake. After all, they are human and humans are prone to oversights. However, when it came time to take the club’s champions group photograph, there I was in my yellow t-shirt shyly holding a champion’s plaque, and as the camera’s strobe flashed, my mind was replaying those four rounds...hmm.
As my mind recalled the events, suddenly I was back to the beginning of June when I registered for the championship. My expectations were simply to play chess to gain tournament experience, and to gather four United States Chess Federation rated chess games. The thought of winning something never crossed my mind.
My round one pairing was against a young man named Yury Markushin. This was just my luck! It was only the beginning of the tournament and I was playing a Russian. At 10 A.M., the director explained the rules of the championship, and then the handshakes signaled the starting of the chess clocks. I had the white chess army and I commenced the game by advancing the King’s pawn two squares. Yury played the mirror move and play continued until we eventually entered into a chess formation named the Italian game. At black’s 19th move, the position was complicated and I sat thinking about my reply.
However, the harder I thought the more the confounding the background noise became. My mind focused on the ticking of the chess clocks...tic, tic, tic, and tic! It was maddening to listen to this while trying to concentrate on improving my position. It reminded me of hearing a dripping faucet while you are trying to fall asleep; the more you try not to listen to it, the louder it becomes. I looked around the tournament room as a form of relief from this lunacy, and all I saw were nervous chess players with worried, anxiety filled, faces. I watched as these participants obsessively ran their fingers through their hair. I witnessed the various twitches of their bodies that occur as a direct result of intense concentration and frantic thought.
Suddenly, my head was filled with every non-chess related thought I could have. It was my move, and I had to play something because the time was ebbing away. Furthermore, I wanted to make a move that would impress this young Russian, and in this, I failed. My 20th move was a disappointment because I missed a clear win, and the game would end in a draw 24 moves later.
I do not know about most people, but when I play in tournaments, I get tired. This is in the form of mental fatigue, and it is especially bad after a loss. I think deep down I knew I was losing the endgame against Yury, and was lucky to have the draw. Little did I know that the next round would be a disaster.
Feeling exhausted both mentally and physically, I started the second round game. My new opponent was a young man from New Mexico named Zach Stuart. I could not help thinking that Zach was a little far of field, but chess is chess and people travel to play our game. During this game, I have command of the black pieces. White’s first move was the now familiar King’s pawn advance and my reply was to have the Queen’s Bishop pawn advance two squares. We have entered into a chess formation called the Sicilian Defense and a few moves later, it turned into the Four Knights variation. I was losing the game by move seven and nothing improved for the next 28 moves. Facing a checkmate in two on my 35th move, I resigned and lost the round.
After completing two rounds of play, my score stood at a half point out of the two possible. Oh, how easy it is to fracture one's ego. My feelings toward chess had reached into a new depth of despair with this loss. Perhaps I was suffering a form of chess related Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My thoughts were jumbled and my speech incoherent as I wandered out the club’s front door, and I was in this state when a fellow chess sufferer named Doug entered into my life to stop my aimless staggering around the parking area. I confided in him that I really did not think much of my present play, and I thought even less about my chances of winning the under 1300 class. Doug listened patiently as I poured out my heart and as I finished he simply asked if I wanted to go with him to get something at the Sonic across the street. What was he saying to me? I could not even get my mind around the fact that another human being was asking for my company. I needed help! There must be a twelve-step program out there for chess related trauma.
"Hi, my name is Todd and I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," I would say at some meeting.
An old army veteran would respond, "Hey man, you catch that in the 'Nam?"
"Naw, it’s from playing chess. There was a checkmate in two. I had pawns coming over the back rank!" would be my frazzled reply.
Doug saved my life, my chess life, by a simple act of kindness to a pawn shocked chess combat veteran while eating at the Sonic. He told me to have fun, stop worrying about your opponent’s rating, and just play the position on the board. These words helped me overcome my self-doubt and to enter into a new phase where I did not worry about the other players calling me a “Patzer” behind my back as they laughed at my feeble games. There would be no more worrying about the gossip of the others from me. I would just relax from here on out and have fun.
My opponent in round three was my old friend Leroy Asher. We had played each other in the Kansas City Open last February. That game ended in a draw and I looked forward to this game, as I had the white chessmen. I commenced play with my King’s pawn advancing two squares and Leroy responded with his Queen’s pawn advancing two squares. Of course, I took his pawn on the next move and the game entered a chess formation named the Scandinavian Defense. The game remained close for the next 31 moves. Finally, on black’s 33rd move Leroy blundered and I checkmated him three moves later. My score increased to one and a half points out of the three possible and this gave me some hope of finishing even.
The fourth and final round began at 4:30 P.M. with a new opponent named Fred Smith. He was in command of the white chess pieces, and he commenced the game with the now standard King’s pawn advance. I went into the Sicilian Defense and was determined to win this one. We played like professionals for the first twelve moves and then Fred made a mistake, which cost him one of his Knights without compensation. This blunder must have affected him psychologically because his next three moves were inaccurate. On white’s 16th move he lost his Queen and the game quickly ended with checkmate. My final score was two and a half points out of a possible four, and I was quite pleased with this result.
After I collected my champion’s plaque and headed for home, it hit me. I was very proud of myself for winning a class championship. I had overcome my self-doubt and that horrible tournament start in order to win. Since then my tournament results have improved because of this confidence boosting experience and I look forward to my continuing success.
