When The Mandela Effect And Rudeness Collide - The Curious Case Of Threefold Repetition Of Position
Yesterday I participated in a fun, non-rated speed tournament held in honor of the 74th birthday of Greg Nowak, Missoula's famous "Octopus." The event was aptly named Octomania and drew a large number of players, many of whom I never had met before. For several hours we slugged it out. I was the only undefeated player going into the semi-final, but Thomas Walthall took me down and got revenge for his prior loss to me in the preliminary rounds. So, it all came down to Thomas versus the Octopus, which is where things got interesting.
The first player to win 2 games out of 3 would be the champion, with draws being disregarded. In the first game Thomas claimed threefold repetition of position, but some of us in the audience disagreed because the alleged third repetition happened after several intervening moves. I began discussing this with a fellow onlooker, who insisted that the repetition need not be consecutive. When I told him that my recollection was different, he made a personal remark about how I would know better if I watched professional chess (earlier in the day I had told him that I don't follow what professional players are doing). I don't appreciate being attacked, let alone by someone I can beat every day of the week and twice on Sunday, but I brushed off the man's rudeness and watched the match until Greg eventually won it.
When I went home I dug up my old version of the USCF's Official Rules Of Chess. The applicable rule (14C) does not require that the repetition be consecutive, but the commentary references a "three consecutive positions claim." This deepened my confusion because my memory of the rule going back to the 1980s was that there had to be three repetitions in a row, which makes good sense because otherwise draws could be claimed after a large number of intervening moves and at virtually any point in the game. But it does appear that the rule is, and perhaps always was, that the repetition need not be consecutive. This strikes me as a perfect example of the Mandela Effect, since my clear memory appears to have no basis in the reality I now inhabit.
But here is where things turned truly bizarre. My antagonist from the tournament contacted me online and barraged me with links confirming the nature of the rule. I responded that my rule book used the term "consecutive" when describing the claim, but that if the rule truly is different then it strikes me as ridiculous. Yet again, he made a personal attack by saying that he had lost respect for me. At that point all bets were off, so I told him that he should learn to play better before talking [trash] to me. He sent me a slew of new messages, so I blocked him after telling him to go pester someone else.
My biggest mistake wasn't about the repetition rule, but rather thinking that I could discuss something as trivial as chess without having someone go postal on me. In a world teeming with insanity right now, where even the smallest hint of disagreement or dissent is shouted down, I thought chess could be a refuge. On that point I was dead wrong.
The good news is that I'm comfortable knowing that I am not a monomaniac who obsesses over a single activity or defines himself by it. I've met people like this in all walks of life, such as lawyers who talk about nothing but the practice of law, weightlifters who think of nothing but the gym, and chess players who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than attack someone for holding a different view of the game. I don't hate these people. I pity them.
UPDATE
This man's mania is more serious than I thought. I just found in my mailbox the Seventh Edition of the USCF's Official Rules Of Chess (I previously told him that I was looking at the Sixth Edition). At this point I need to make sure my doors are all firmly locked! Be careful out there, chess players, for some of your competitors have an illness that no medicine can cure.
