Thursday, December 11, 2008

Why chess is better than humanity

D V N O
Four capital letters
Printed in gold
'Cause details make the girls sweat even more
while they're shaking their belt
No need to ask my name
to figure out how cool I am

Can anyone read, anyone feel
That I'm losing my patience
I just came here to bounce
Ladies are all waxed
They all now I'm coming
I'm losing my patience
I just came here to bounce

[Justice, DVNO]

There's this game called chess, which I have learned to play since ~March. I very rarely win against my (formidable) opponent. I used to take losing pretty harshly, and it would be a lie to say that winning doesn't feel good. Fortunately, I have realized how I can start winning. I think about how I could win every time, and I come up with this question:

Is winning worth changing how I play the game, the reason I love it so much?

My strategy mainly consists of devising out-landish schemes that would totally rock if I could pull them off. Most of the time I get within two or three moves of winning, and then my opponent gets me in check time after time until he wins. All this because he had better preparation during the beginning of the game and maintained more of his pieces in the middle of the game.

So to beat him, I would have to adopt a similar strategy in playing more conservatively, making saving and protecting my pieces first priority.

I have decided not to change my strategy. I have to say I appreciate nothing more than acting rash in a cosmically inconsequential dual. I enjoy acting unexpectedly and, to some degree, being the underdog who pleasures more in the little battles than in winning game after game.