Blunder at the Hand of a Tiny Robot Assassin

Right before I resigned, I wanted to scream. I wanted to flip the table and fill the room full of gentle clock taps and windy sighs with the purity of my rage. I went to the bathroom and slammed my hat against the wall as if trying to communicate to the tiles my utter disbelief that I misunderstood the position so fully. Did I know anything at all about chess?

I wasn’t angry with the eight year old that calmly moved his rook to g1 before he stared into my soul sweetly reminding me that I should have taken his multiple draw offers. It was my own lack of concentration, my inability to think clearly that made me want, as Hamlet had wished for “to melt, thaw, and resolve into a dew.” I had fought back in this game and found a way to end up a knight up, on my way to 2.5/3. Then suddenly and without warning, I blundered in a way that I will remember for a long time to come.

It took a long Metro ride, an episode of the Sopranos, and multiple sessions of chess therapy to be able to see the bigger picture: I made one really bad move in what has otherwise been a beautiful week of chess. I finished with 5/7 points at the President’s Day Tournament put on by the Atlantic Chess Association, and I only a few hours before Kf2?? converted a clutch win in front of all my friends.

Even in the game I’m about to show you, I was down then fought back through patience and tactical awareness. Blunders happen. When I returned to the hotel the next day, I played with confidence and resolve. Though I played two opponents that were lower rated by hundreds of points, I did what I should do: controlled every aspect of the game. It’s not lost on me that I had a tournament only a few months ago in which I ended up with multiple draws against 1300 level players. In rounds 4 and 5, I was sharp and vicious.

It’s not easy to be adult improver. Most people hear about the fact that I play so many kids, so many eight year olds and they laugh. How could a person that hardly meets the requirements to ride a rollercoaster be such a threat? The truth is that age is nothing but a number in this game and for adult improvers, we must check our ego at the door and play the position without getting caught up in the fact that our opponent’s feet don’t touch the ground. They are robot assassins, and they take absolutely no prisoners.

As always, for your viewing pleasure, here is the game: