Playing

I had a game of chess with Ted today. Beryl is convinced that he’s a sociopathic alcoholic (she reads the Daily Mail remember) and has been told he needs new hobbies to stop him sitting around the house moaning and drinking. So off she went to a car boot and bought him a child-size guitar with only three strings, a ‘Teach Yourself Holiday Spanish’ book and a battered old wooden chess set. She’s hoping that might be enough to see him through Winter without boredom and whiskey. He rejected the first two ideas out of hand, but was surprisingly cheerful and welcoming about the chess set. It turns out he used to play quite a bit in the Army, so he’s offered to teach me all his moves in return for having someone to play with. It’s a shame they didn’t play poker in the forces really, I’d rather be learning something I can win money at.. But never-the-less, it’s a fascinating game and I’m hoping our twice-weekly sessions may help me through my own bout of current depression. I’ve ordered a few books from the library that should give me some tips and help me improve. Most of the ‘Grand Masters’ I’ve looked at online seem to be seriously disturbed and suffering from nine different OCD conditions, but I don’t think I’m looking to play to that level. If I can learn enough to beat my elderly neighbour into tearful submission that’ll be enough for one year.

RC 20-10-09