I live among a large number of people who are either old farts like me or have some sort of disability. Most of them are quite nice, certainly nicer than me. I thought perhaps one or more of them might be interested in playing chess with me, so I began walking down the hallway with board in hand, searching for an easy mark.
Most demurred, saying they only play checkers. But there was one guy, I'll call him K, who was eager to play me.
K, who is at least 6'5", looks very much like a NFL running back. Perhaps that's because he played that position with the Frankford Chargers in Philly. One day, in downtown Philly, he was jumped from behind by a bunch of thugs who took whatever small amount of money he had on him. Because he's so big, the only way they were going to get him down was by hitting him on the head. Hard. K went down and was left for dead. He was hospitalized and though he had a miraculous recovery, he suffered serious brain damage. He's unable to drive as a result. I also noticed that, when he would play simple games like Bingo, he constantly got mixed up.
I thought I'd humor K by playing a game of chess with him.
He clobbered me.
Not once, not twice, but five times so far. Turns out that he loves chess and played it all the time in Philly. While he may have suffered a serious brain injury, it has had no impact on his ability to checkmate me in 10 moves.
When I'm down a piece or two, I usually resign. But he tells me to keep playing.
"As long as you have pieces, you can still win."
"Remember, you can turn a lowly pawn into a queen."
Thanks to K, I'm becoming a better chess player. But I'm still arrogant.
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