Chess Lessons in Life

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. Arthur Ashe

I have been teaching my grandson how to play Chess. He’s eleven years old and sharp as the proverbial tack. We sat down, set up the board, and identified the various pieces and the rules of the game. I told him that I wasn’t playing to win, but was going to play well enough to help him learn how the pieces move and some things to watch for.

Chess is a fun game. We played. I let him take backsies whenever he blundered into something catastrophic, and with each succeeding game he has gotten better, smarter, and has become more strategic in his choices. He still hasn’t won, as of this writing, but his play has improved enough that I approach each game more carefully so that now I AM playing to win.

One of the things I don’t like about playing games is that they tend to bring out a killer instinct in me. I want to play for fun, but when danger lurks, the adrenaline squirts into my veins, my heart races, my face flushes, and suddenly I go into kill-mode. It is instinctive. I have virtually no control over it. I don’t just want to win; I want to annihilate my opponent.

That’s an attitude I don’t like, and a reason I tend to decline invitations to play cards or board games. I don’t worry about losing. Far from it, I couldn’t care less. But I am a horrible winner. It inflates my ego far beyond all reason. Why should a man near seventy gloat in victory over his eleven year old grandson?

It’s unseemly; that’s what it is.

I also know that it is important to pass along life-lessons to the latest generation, so as we play, we talk. Developing strategies in chess helps us develop strategies in living. The next move is important, but so is looking a few more moves “down” the board. Sacrificing a pawn to gain a Rook teaches the value of making a sacrifice for the benefit of gaining something better. Overcoming the loss of a Queen with the better coordination of Knights and Bishops helps us learn to make do with what we have, which is better than moaning over what we don’t have.

We don’t always get backsies and do-overs in life, but sometimes we do. I think it is important to learn about grace, for too many of us have been squeezed dry by judgment and a lack of charity.

A young lad was chastised by his parents for being so miserly in his weekly gifts to his church’s Sunday school offering. They knew he had a very generous weekly allowance from which to give. What they didn’t know was that he was saving up much of his allowance to buy a coat for a classmate who didn’t have a decent winter-coat to wear. They didn’t know his plan because they didn’t ask. They judged him in ignorance. After the heated exchange (for that’s what it had been) and discovering his (previously hidden) generous heart, they took him to the store, chipped in to help buy the coat, and bought several others for the school’s coat and gloves program.

Getting back to Chess: at the end of each game, I always extend my hand to compliment my adversary for a game well-played. Win or lose, good sportsmanship is important.

I don’t just tell him he played a good game. I identify the moves he made that gave me pause or forced me to change what I was doing. I focus on the things done right and ignore the things done wrong. 

I think we often spend too much time rehashing what we or others have done wrong, whether at home, work, or the world of politics. I tend to improve when I am told what I’ve done well. A pat on the back is nice, but I really appreciate it when someone identifies what, specifically, I have done that was meaningful, right, well, or good.

I don’t believe life is a game wherein God moves us all about the board. In ignorance, we strive to avoid checkmate, only to discover in the end that God’s only desire is to BE our Check-Mate in this, our valley.