I am reminded of the myth of Sisyphus. Sometimes when I work on something intensely, after hundreds or thousands of hours, someone thwarts my efforts, so that my efforts backfire. This is seldom accomplished through intellectual means.
I'm a good chess player. I don't know what my USCF ranking would be, but I realize that masters are much better at the game. I'm best at slow games, around twenty to thirty minutes, considered slow these days. When I was a boy, games were not timed and could last for one or two hours. My brother or I might spend ten, fifteen, twenty minutes studying a single move. I fare poorly at blitz chess, because I become fascinated by positions and want to analyze every detail, and then I run out of time. I resent having to rush through things. I like to ponder until I find the perfect solution. But blitz does have the advantage of brevity. Perhaps it serves to quicken one's calculating speed. I'm not sure. I don't think I've gotten any faster, but more likely slower as I've aged.
I spent hundreds of hours mastering an unusual chess opening, learning just about every facet of it, only to be banned from the internet chess server for what seems to me a spurious rationale pulled out of thin air. My brother had visited for Christmas, and I was so enthusiastic about the chess server that I showed him how it worked, even registering him and letting him play from my Internet connection. Such enthusiasm I had. He was the one who had taught me chess at the age of four, so I thought to repay him by teaching him about the internet chess server that I had recently discovered. I spent an hour teaching him how it worked. This was supposedly (I mean I do not believe it) interpreted by an admin as violating a rule of one person having two accounts, because it was from the same IP address. But there were two people, not one. I was interrupted in the middle of a game in which I was winning, disconnected and banned without any warning.
I had been polite to all the players and even in those cases where the players were not polite to me, I just quit playing them. I had spent months learning and perfecting an unusual opening that had given me great success. I think that my unusual opening, judged unsound by many but refuted by none, was the ultimate reason I was banned. I have noticed that some chessplayers are contemptuous of any opening that is not being currently played by one or preferably all the grandmasters. The chess world is hierarchical, the lower ranks being deferential to the best players. Some players believe we should only do what the grandmasters say to do. They read articles written by grandmasters and copy their ideas. Their play consists of rote memorization of the products of other minds. When I break them out of book, they go to pieces. Some players immediately abort the game on the very first move when they observe my opening, because they have no adequate response and can't be troubled to find one.
A few days before my ban, I defeated the wrong person, a connected person, who was angry that I had played my opening. He said it was unsound, and grandmasters didn't play it, and he didn't want to play it either, and he even told me to "go f--- myself," twice, in case I didn't process it the first time. He was either the admin himself or friends with the admin, I think, because he demonstrated a mastery of the network's technical side. It is too much of a coincidence that I am banned so soon after this nasty unprovoked altercation from a player whose very arrogance suggests he was indeed the admin. So I am banned because I play an unusual opening. This fits in with the other expectations I have developed of society.
I suppose it doesn't matter. Chess is a just a game of limited value and minority appeal. I do not have a friend who plays as well as I do. That is one of the problems with chess. Getting good at it is a double-edged sword. I am reminded of my old friend from school. At first he beat me two out of three games. A few weeks later, I beat him half the time, and that was the perfect scenario, but I kept improving. Next I was beating him almost every game, and then he stopped playing me forever, because he hated losing, but did not want to invest the time required to get better at chess, which in retrospect was a prudent choice on his part that I wish I had followed.
If I had my life to live over, I would have learned a musical instrument instead of a nerdy game that appeals to soldierly types, often men of narrow interests and deep prejudices. Music opens up a world of beauty. It allows one to connect with other beings in a way that is not possible through chess. Chess is a blood sport, of limited appeal except to warriors. But one is what one is. I suppose I would have made a good lieutenant. It is good I have not been in war in this lifetime--good for me and merciful to the foes I otherwise would have encountered.
