I wonder if this post will be moved to V3? . . .
DENVER
I played CHESS IN THE GOLDEN GATE PARK, SAN FRANCISCO
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Denver, great story. I've a few in my 79 yrs but none as good as your well told!
Jun 8, 2017
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#4
@ olddognt wrote: Denver, great story. I've a few in my 79 yrs but none as good as your well told!
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Thanks for reading and commenting . . .
DENVER
Chess Games at Golden Gate Park . . .
By
Denver
I took a bus to the Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. I had seen men gathered around cement tables, playing chess, every day this summer when I rode my bike.
Maybe they would let me play. Maybe I could win. Maybe I would show them something. Maybe they were too good. Maybe I was better. Maybe I would get lucky and win. Maybe this adventure would be my undoing. Maybe I . . . heck. No doubt about it, I was scared and nervous as heck.
As I approached the men, they looked at me as if they were sizing me up. I attended LowellHigh school and was sixteen years old. Some of them said hello others just made eye contact and nodded. There were men of various ages and attire.
Six games were going on at once. Each had several kibitzers around them. I stopped at one, then another. I looked at the positions trying to analyze the game, and tried to see who had the best position and tried to find their next best move. These weren't quiet games; they spoke to each other as they made their moves. This is the chatter I heard from different games.
"Ah, finally he attacks," said a very old man.
"Go ahead, take it, I don't care. You old man. "
"I see it, I see it, it's not too late," said a very worried man looking at the board with shaking hands.
"There, take that." As he moved a knight to a new position.
"Great move, but not good enough," said a confident player about forty years old. He showed a lot of composure and style. He was standing as he played and the kibitzers gave him room as he reached and made his move.
"Hmmm . . . What the heck was that for? You move a pawn, just to confuse me?" asked his opponent.
Some comments made didn't require a reply.
Finally a guy said to me. "Wha‑cha got in the case? Your pieces? Looking for a game?"
I said, "Yes, if it's OK." knodding my head.
"Set your men up on that table. In a short time, Tchigorin will play you." He must have seen many like me show up before. A kibitzer moved over and started to help me set up the pieces.
"Thanks," I said.
"How long have you been playing?"
"Three years or so."
"Well, the guy you're going to play is nice enough. Tchigorin is his idol. Just play your game. Pay no mind to his remarks. He likes to play all the new meat that wanders in. That's him over there playing," he said pointing at a player standing and moving about in front of a chess board.
I could hear the comment he made, "Check! Now what do you say to that?"
The opponent made his move without a comment. I moved closer to see.
"Good try. Here it comes, Tchigorin style. Again, with a sacrifice, check," he said, taking and slamming the new piece in its place.
Black made his move, got out of check and said, "O.K. Come on. Do it."
"You didn't expect that? Let's see if I can finish."
Tchigorin was the only one speaking now, the other just looked on. Their game was almost over.
"Easy, easy now. It's checkmate," he said as he made the last move very slowly with a smile and loudly he boasted, "Great flurries on your part, but to beat Tchigorin, you gotta play better."
He had been playing standing, with one foot on the bench. I moved back to my table. He came over and sat sideways, straddling his legs on the bench.
He said, "What's your name? Mine's, Tchigorin. Go ahead, play white. Let's see Wha‑cha got." He extended his hand and we shook hands.
I said, "Mine's Denver."
With my hand shaking a little, I moved my 1. e4. Six men had moved over to watch the game.
"Ah, he opens easily enough. Let's see where Denver is going to go." He pushed
1 ... e5 and said, "Show Tchigorin."
I moved my kings knight 2. Nf3, without stopping to think.
He responded with the Queen's knight to 2. ... Nc6. "Here we go, slow and easy."
I slid my king's bishop to 3. Bb5.
"Textbook! Textbook! Let's see what he knows about the Ruy Lopez, now," he said.
After seven moves I lost the opening pattern. Now I played on my own. Memory was blaaank. The book was gooone. I had to shooow what I had.
He attacked. I defended. I defended . . . I defended . . . He always found a way to make me defend. He chattered and I was silent. He moved and made comments with each one of his moves. Just chatter. Laughter surrounded us all the time, because of his comments.
"Darnit. Shut up, let me think," I thought.
"It's checkmate my friend," he said finally.
"When someone asks you who beat you at the Golden Gate Park, say it was, Tchigorin."
We set up the pieces, and this time I played black. Some of the men drifted away and others came to watch the new game. He toyed with me, making comments about everything and about nothing. I was out of his league. He played with flair. I waited for the inevitable mate to come. He started another game on the next table, and he played two games at once.
"You gotta learn, you gotta learn, Tchigorin will wait for you. Remember my name Tchigorin."
The second game he mated me in twenty moves. That didn't take long. Thirty minutes, two losses but I wasn't nervous anymore. He helped me get my Stauton wood pieces ready for a new game.
"You'll get better, you'll get better. Keep playing and come again. Play Bobby Fisher here. He'll give you a good game." We shook hands.
I said, "Thanks for the lessons, Tchigorin."
He turned to face the game of the next victim he was playing. I knew he would kill him first with his chatter. I played Bob, and the game went back and forth until finally I got mated after about forty moves and half an hour later.
"Thanks for the game Bob." We shook hand and he helped me put my pieces in my new fake leather case. I left and walked toward the bus stop. I wasn=t feeling as tall as I first came. My tail was cut off, and more experienced. I left never to play there again. I couldn't wait for my new case to be old and weathered for I knew then I would be better.
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At the time I was 16 years old, 1953 . . . I'm now 79 and I'm writing my chess memoirs . . . Hope you like the first of my stories . . . .
DENVER