Signs you're a bad chess player

[1] Unless, of course, you speak Spanish, in which case the knight is "horse" (caballo)!

[2] Unless, of course, your dad/grandfather/uncle/dog/family member is an IM or GM! ("GM Fiddo" boggles the mind!)

[3] "Your words are hurtful!"  (So easy a caveman could do it!)

Well, it is now Christmas morning.

You awaken at dawn, as you lie there on your bean-bag pillow with the potato-sack sheets drawn up to your chinny-chin-chin, yawning and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Alas, the brandy eggnog is all gone, as well as the buttermilk and oatmeal cookies. But you remember!

Bobby had spent the night with you, teaching the Fischer chess moves. He taught you the Whirlygig opening, the Chainsaw midgame and the Clobber You endgame technique. And, instead of Checkmate!, he calls the finale Kaput!!!

Be that as it may, he taught you not only the inner secrets of Fischer Chess but he did it in Bullet style!

Yes, 960 permutations of the opening along with 60 seconds-per-side games. He showed you how you can calculate 30 moves in the first 30 seconds. And, if that isn't enough, you have an additional 30 seconds to implement the Kabosh tactic which will, 100% guaranteed, lead to the Kaput!!!...well before the minute is up.

Oh...goody...goody...

You go to the window and open the dust-caked Venetian blinds to let the morning light in. When, what a coincidence!...happy day!...you see Miss Universe passing by with what looks like a Christmas goose, clutched in her arms.

You open the window, stick your head out and scream: "Hey! I challenge you to a rematch...yah?!"

Miss Universe agrees. So, you hurry down with your favorite chess set, the Fischer memorabilia pocket pegboard set (made of genuine plastic) and you say: "We play Fischer Bullet Chess...das is good?"

She agrees,  so you sit on the stoop and set up for play. "Pick a number from 1 to 960", you say. She chooses 447. "You got it," you respond and arrange the pieces accordingly. Good thing, too, that you brought down your chrome-plated, track and field dual analog stopwatch that your grandpa left you as an inheritance.

Slam! Bam! Thank you, M'am!

First game, over in 10 seconds flat. You didn't even need to get to the Kaput!!! because she resigned, due to 12 points down on material. Second game...third game...no contest...she yells "Uncle!".

But, here is the exciting part. Miss Universe is a good loser (whatever that is, I don't know). She invites you to go with her down to the cafe where she will treat you to a coffee and a Danish.

Life doesn't get any better than this.

Those 24 hooligans on the bus who beat you at chess... You have sworn a blood oath to play a rematch with each and every one of them.

So far, today at least, you have located naught but four...the fourth being way, way out in Canarsie...and have played a rematch in Fischer Bullet with each.

They lost mostly with somber dignity, except for the one in Canarsie who cried inconsolably...you almost felt sorry for him but, now, you abjure (I just made up that word) losers.

You have become (quickly, I might add) a chess snob elitist, a hypocite and a sociopath (not necessarily in that order). These traits will come in handy when you go back on the internet chess circles.

The other twenty rematches will be for some other day because you only had $20 to bribe the bus driver. He wants to soak you another $20 for the rest, but that would kill your beer money stash.

Meanwhile, you check in with your voice mail service (your mom). Word must have gotten out. There is a que of people whom you've never heard of and they have an urgent need for you to phone them back...Carlsen, Anand, Aronian, Naka-something-or-other. They are offering to pay you for lessons. 

A bunch of patzers, you think to yourself. They will just have to get in line, like everybody else.

Where did that mattress go? Now that is the all-consuming question. It has become the focal point of your attention.

Meanwhile, life is not-so-bad and not-so-good. Since you are one of those "glass is half full" kind of fellows, you feel smirky and smug...as an ace chesser should be, by golly.

You arise at dawn, refreshed and imbued with a phantasmagoria of fresh ideas for the new day.

So many fish and so little time...

You aspire to beat every single player on chess.com with your new Fischer bullet techniques.

Problem is...there are...what?...4,000,000 members??? Then you deduce...much of that has to be propaganda. Let's say 90% are cancelled accounts or dupes (dupes is not derogatory...although probably apropos..duplicates), even trips and quads. Haywood alone has about 500 accounts.

So, 10% of 4M is 400,000 (you are good with math so you can calculate this in your head). You also deduce that that is probably a gross exaggeration, too, but you use it as a working model.

So, average Fischer bullet game ends in 30 seconds flat. Of course, there are those dunderheads who won't cry Uncle!!! even when they are down 15 points or more...so you have to take an extra 10 seconds to promote four queens so as to teach them some manners...meaning 40 seconds max.

Be that as it may...400,000 @ 30 sec. avg...therefore 200K min/60 would be 3,333 hours. Hmmm...if you play 16 hours per day that will take you only 208 days. Very doable, IYHO.

Yes...yes, you'e gotta have goals.

Oh, and in your dreams last night, Bobby showed you his latest move. The King Sacrifice. How does that work, one might wonder? Well, I can't reveal the exact secret at this moment...and I need to practice it. But...

Essentially, if your opponent has you on the ropes and goes in for the kill...traps your king in a Kaput!!!...you don't say anything. He arises from the table with a smirky grin and says "good game" and extends his sweaty, clammy hand towards you...

You slap his hand away. And you say: "Not so fast!" And you show him this new move, it's called the Resurrection.

Shock and Awe!

Yes, things are looking up. Indeed!

TROLLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

OTOH, "a man's got to know his limitations."

You try to install a "I gotta go to the bathroom" button on your Fritz program.

It has been nine hours, so far...that would mean 9 x 60 = 540; 540/2 = 270 games of Fischer Bullet Chess.

This is a good start. All you need now is 400,000 - 270 = ...

Sorry, I am feeling fatigued and a little dizzy to count right now.

Phew! I wipe the sweat from my brow.

Not only what I just posted, but I think I should have multiplied by 2, instead of divide. It's either 270 or 1,080 games so far. Who's counting?

I don't know. I go take a break...and some beer would be nice.

You lose 143.76% of the time.

 HMMMM...... I lose 143.77% of the time! Must mean I'm not a bad chess player! XD

I sign up for 1,000 simultaneous one minute Fischer chess games.

Fell asleep for just one minute and lost on time...all games.

This is not good. 

A sign that you are a bad chess player is when you mistake a checker set for a chess set.

Well, I just found out that there was one who aborted. So I stand 1 to 999.

Not so bad. I can live with that.

Sitting in your genuine, Paul Morphy antique bathtub (yes...the one in which he...) and sippin' on some maple-charcoal filtered, oak-barrel aged Tennessee hooch...

You decide to be objective about this Fischer bullet chess. Time to explore options. How 'bout, bullet but in Capablanca Random, Omega, Seirawan, Embassy or Grand chess?

Yes..yes...you have plenty of idle time (nobody wants to employ you) so you decide to investigate further and weigh the tradeoffs.

You get an opportunity to work with Garry Kasparov and you break it up

because you feel he is weak in the middlegame.

Well, you stop to take pause...good managment skills (you were once an inventory control engineer down at the doughnut shop) mandate periodic assessments of progress.

But first, it must be said, that that genuine Paul Morphy antique, cast-iron with porcelain glazing bathtub and the maple-charcoal filtered, oak-barrel aged Tennessee hooch were scams 

You had bought them both from Haywood, who used to be a super rich fatso but who now lives down at the Y and is thin as a broomstick.

Anyway, I'm drifting...

He made the "Tennessee" rot gut from fermented raisins and rubbing alcohol (denatured isopropyl...a rubefacient, deemed non-ingestible) in this very same bathtub.

And the antique tub, itself...cast iron and porcelain glazed? You discovered that it is neither, when it started leaking and the tenant below kept pounding on his ceiling with a mopstick. It is naught but an injection-molded polymer (old car tires, mostly) with a thin membrane of bone-white porcelain touch-up paint, sprayed from a 12 oz. can purchased from a car parts store for $1.99.

So, now you are also out your beer stash cash. Just you wait, Haywood!

A tally:

Losses        

     3 Miss Universe

    24 on bus

   999 on internet

Wins

     3 Miss Universe

     4 from bus

     1 internet, abort

You choose not to sum these numbers, for self evident purposes. But, things are not at all looking up.

Now...those other forms of chess. Yes, yes, there is something propitious to think about here...by golly.

Edit: You forgot to add those 1,080 wins over the nine hours mentioned in post 1140. Wow...to your delight you ain't such a loser afterall!

You are mightily bored with this 960 set up Fischer chess. Far too easy.

So, now you are investigating Capablanca Random Chess. What appeals to you most is that there are 48,000 opening setups! Random number generator to select which one!

Talk about orders of magnitude. There are 50 times as many opening permutations and combinations as in 960 Chess (makes Fischer look like a putz).

You are also intrigued by the additional pieces...archbishop and chancellor. And, you like that there word...drosophilia (sounds like a vampire with a blood disease...cool).

So, you study this stuff: http://www.chessvariants.org/contests/10/crc.html