About a month ago, I went to Chicago to play in the Chicago Open.  In between rounds, I walked around the huge corridors of the Westin North Shore Hotel to burn off some nervous energy.  I saw players with chess boards of all sorts at coffee tables and on the carpeted floors.  I could also hear players talk about their games and their thoughts behind the games.  I overheard one player in particular talking to a group seated around one of the coffee tables.  He looked familiar to me.  I know he was playing in one of the top sections if not in the open section.  He was talking about the younger players in the tournament and their inexperience.  It is amazing to see so many young players at these tournaments.  I have some pictures that I hope to post soon, as well as my games.  These kids are amazing and amazingly good players.  It seems as though that you could always tell when one of these gradeschool players had lost.  You could see it on their faces.  They couldn't believe they lost.  They didn't make a blunder.  They made some logical moves that made sense, but they still lost.  I heard one boy cry to his father in a whisper (the TDs are worse than librarians when it comes to shushing you if you get too loud).  The boy said, "Did I make a mistake?"  The player that makes the last mistake is the one who loses is a rule or phrase that I always keep in mind.  I thought of this boy when I heard the experienced player at the coffee table talking about young inexperienced players.  What he said also struck me as well, as if it applied to me, and probably most other players as well.  He said this, "They're not as good as they think they are."  Do you know where I'm going with this?  How about Romans 3:10, "As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one."  What do we plan to accomplish over the chess board?  Are we trying to prove we're better than our opponent?  Are we trying to prove that we can play without making a blunder, mistake, or miscalculation (which seem to have different definitions in the chess vocabulary)?  I've said before that every move on the chess board is a mistake from the beginning.  Why?  Well, tell me this, what is the perfect move?  With the exception of Zugzwang, a mating net, or a forced move that leads to winning an exchange, we have to be honest, we don't really know what we're doing.  Everything is theory.  There are proven lines that we follow and opening sequences, but realize that they have only been tested against mortal men.  What if Jesus played chess?  Wouldn't we just fall off our seats if He opened with h4?  The fact of the matter is in chess and in life, we do as the Bible describes men do, "doing which was right in their own eyes."  We must realize that we are not as good as we think we are.  How is it then we can see some impressive positions, combinations, and checkmates in chess if we make so many mistakes.  Is it luck?  Chess players don't like to use that word, I know.  However, we may make imperfect moves and still have good results.  Realize, Chrisitan, that once you were saved, you did not become wholly perfect.  This is why this flesh will die and God will give us a new, perfect body.  Yes, spiritually, we have been given the rightesouness of Christ, but we still make mistakes in this sinful world.  But God still uses us.  For that matter God uses everyone and everything.  Proverbs 16:4 says, "The Lord hath made all things for himself: yea even the wicked for the day of evil."  Some may argue with me, but I don't think God is as concerned about the outcome of our chess games as we are.  I do think that God is more concerned about the outcome of our lives than we are.  How we do approach an imperfect life and an imperfect game?  With humility.  After all, "pride goeth before destruction."  That may be the psychological edge we need to overcome in chess.  To be humble does not mean that we look down on ourselves as good-for-nothing.  But rather how God looks at us.  Frail, imperfect, dependent, yet with potential.  The difference is that God can and will work miracles in our lives.  On the other hand, we can only hope that our chess opponent thinks he is better than he is.

By the way, my record in Chicago was 3W, 3L, and 1 stalemate.  I still think I could have done better.