Chess Jokes

Thanks for clearing that up Oranos.

Philosophical chess joke:

Erik:" Would you like to play chess?"

Descartes:" I think not."

Then he disappears.

Good one Stevereti. I will be posting another one tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Two knights came by into a bar. While they waited for the drinks to be served, one knight bragged: "I broke into enemy’s territory solo and came home with two rooks hanging behind my back; I have two weeks free in my hands as a reward of it."

The second knight eagerly responded: "two weeks off is nothing compared to mine." How come? The first knight quipped back.

The second knight said "I have been awarded with early retirement just because of a tiny mistake; I failed to protect the king and he was captured by the enemy."

Another Descartes one:

A person asked Gaileo. Was it or was it not that great chess player René Descartes who observed:

      Ludero ergo sum    {"I play [chess] therefore I exist"}

to which Galileo allegedly retorted: "You're putting DesCartes before DesHorse! Get a life!"

(I did not say it was a good one.)

Daily Joke

Three retired International chess grandmasters were playing chess in the park.
The first grandmaster said, "it is windy today."
The second grandmaster said, "no, it is Thursday today".
The third grandmaster said, "me too, let's go back inside for a drink"

ive heard it. it is sort of funny.

Here is a riddle.

Q:Why should you never buy a house from a chess player?
A:Because they take ages to move!

exactly!

Alright, here's one:

A man was walking in the park, remembering his old friend that was a grandmaster that has just passed away.  Suddenly, he heard his friend speaking to him through his concious.

"What's it like up there in heaven" the man asked his friend.

"Well, would you like the good news or the bad news?" he asked.

"Oh well I'll take the good news first"

"Well life up here is wonderful, and you can play chess all day long!  There's the greatest of players here, Tal and Fischer, and Capablanca and the rest!" he replied excitdely.

"That's fantastic!  So whats the bad news?"

"You're black against Tal on Saturday".

Thanks for this one.

I've heard that joke numerous times, but with different sports, baseball, golf, tennis.  But always a good one.

Here is a variation on the last joke. A little more elaborate.

    Two chessplayers and friends for life also share their interest for spiritism. So, one day the make an agreement: Whoever dies first will contact the other from the beyond. After many more games of chess finally the day has come that one of two chessplayers dies.
    A couple of weeks later his friend visits a medium. During the séance, suddenly, a known voice is heard:
    -"It is me - from heaven."
    -"Oh, wonderful", his friend replies. "How is it up there?"
    -"Everything is so bright and everybody is peaceful."
    -"Do you play chess in heaven?"
    -"Well", he answers, "that is the reason I got in contact with you.
    Yes, we are playing chess --- but you are playing Capablanca next Sunday."

Today's Joke.

A gentleman must play a game of chess with a blind person, he proposes to the blind person:
"As him cannot see he will grant an advantage to him as part of the deal. We will not play in equality of conditions."
"This sound really fair" replied the Blind Person.
Then he asks the gentleman: "When?"
"Very well", the other men responded to him "any night that you prefer."

The English equivalent of what you're talking about with 'j'adoube' is 'I dub thee Sir blah blah'.

This one's kind of half a joke, half just a nice story that I found on another website (so credit to someone else named "Tommy"):

My best friend for many years was Bob Sawyer, he was the one who really taught me chess. He was a wonderful person.

Bob lived for the mail. Every day at lunch time, he would leave his office, cross the street to the Post Office, and open box 275 in search of postcards. For years, he played chess through the mail, and every day, he received at least two cards, sometimes as many as ten.

During his lunch hour... always at the same small cafe... he'd order soup and a sandwich and take out a small, heavily worn leather pocket chess set. While eating, he'd set up each game in turn. In between bites of the sandwich and spoonfuls of soup, he'd review the position and the new move, and mull about the analysis he would undertake that evening. Life was good.

Bob was aware that many of his opponents were far more serious about the game. He was quite content to play mostly for the fun of it. At the end of the work day, after a quick meal, he'd set up the position, stare at the board for a few minutes, and perhaps move the pieces around a bit. Occasionally, he'd consult one of the ten or so chess books on his bookshelf. After ten minutes or so, and never more than hour, he'd fill out his reply and file away his opponents cards, one by one.

He most enjoyed the short conversations on each card, wherever they might lead. Winning was fun, but friendship was more important. Literature, sports, the weather... whatever. He remembered many games more for the lively talk than the moves or the result.

Spring brings changes. For Bob it meant some new sections and, for the first time, an entry in the Golden Queens, a preliminary section with six opponents. He knew that the players who entered these sections were more serious about winning, but at least that would mean that they'd be more likely to reply on time. There was just nothing worse than an interesting discussion interrupted by a tardy opponent.

In the three new games with white, Bob sent off his standard first card. In addition to his usual 1.P-K4, he introduced himself:

"Greetings and a pleasure to meet you via postal chess. My name is Bob Sawyer. I'm 44, a bank clerk here for the past twelve years. Unmarried, but very fond of good talk. Any special interests?"

Three days later, he received his first card from the section, from a George Martin. Bob was somewhat disappointed to see nothing on the card but the move, and at that in the rather unfeeling algebraic notation that Bob tried hard to avoid. Still, he did find the move somewhat intriguing: 1.b4. Throughout the years, nearly all of his opponents had opened by moving the pawn in front of either the king or queen, and only rarely P-QB4 or N-KB3.

He'd never had to play against P-QN4, and he really had no idea what to do. He thought about it all through his soup and sandwich, and even at work for more than hour.

By the time he got home and finished his supper, Bob felt unusually tired. He took a few minutes to look quickly through his chess books, but there was simply nothing there on this strange first move. He thought about filling out a reply, almost any reply, and he might well have done so had there been an interesting conversation to start. But since his laconic opponent had offered nothing but the move, Bob decided to sleep on it.

It was a most wonderful dream. A comfortable chair, soft lighting, surrounded by many hundreds, perhaps even thousands of books. Rows and rows of books. And a book in his hand... a chess book. There was the title, at the top of every page: 1.P-QN4? The book, opened to the first page... with a diagram and the key move 1...N-KB3! in bold type.

Bob woke with a smile. If only the dream had been real. How wonderful to have a library with just the right book. He started his morning routine, a quick shower, cereal, coffee. But he kept returning to the dream. Amusing, he thought. It was just a dream, but N-KB3 seems like just the right idea. At the breakfast table, he filled out the reply, including his usual introductory comments, and headed off to work.

All morning long, Bob felt consumed by the dream. He rarely ever remembered his dreams, let alone one so vivid and appropriate to real life. And the room, the library, had been so satisfying, so comforting. So many beautiful, old books.

Lunch time arrived more quickly than usual. He collected three cards at the Post Office and headed off to the cafe. Two new opponents, both playing 1.P-Q4, and an older game against Taylor that was now reaching a critical juncture. In between soup and the sandwich, Bob set up the position on his pocket set. Bob tried a few different moves for white and then shook his ahead. "precisely the kind of position I mess up," he thought to himself. "Looks like I need to play 34.Q-R4."

And there he might have stopped, filled out the card and mailed it. But he thought yet again about his dream and, on instinct, he decided to wait a day and sleep on it.

He felt unusually tired again that evening and, immediately after dinner, lay down on the sofa. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

Again, he found himself in the darkly paneled chess library. In front of him, a polished ivory chess set on an inlaid board. Across the room were two older gentleman. They were speaking in another language. Russian perhaps. In his hand this time was a new book with the title: My Game with Taylor. He opened the book to the middle and there he immediately saw : "34.QxKB6!! wins by force."

Bob awoke with a start, immediately set up the board and, sure enough, 34.QxKB6 was simply breathtaking. A marvelous queen sacrifice that led to checkmate in every line.

And so it went. Day after day, year by year. One sockdollager after another, all from his dreams. Sometimes he'd have a book in his hand. Other times, the two visitors in his dream would analyze the position for him and recommend a move.

It was now ten years since the dreams had started, and Bob had perfected the routine. He'd take each card in turn, stare at the position for just a few minutes. Soon, even a catnap was enough to conjure up the dream and the right move. Today, he received the cards from one remaining opponent in the US championship, and even Bob knew that the game was well in hand. Only a few more moves and Bob Sawyer, the bank clerk patzer, would reign as the US champion. With confidence, he stared at the position for a few moments and went to sleep.

The same comfortable chair, soft lighting, and thousands upon thousands of books. And a book in his hand... a chess book with a picture of Bob on the cover. There was the title: The Collected Games of Bob Sawyer. He opened the book to the last page... "Sawyer was perhaps the most creative correspondence player in American history, Sawyer was known not only as a fine player, unbeaten in his final ten years of play, but also as a steadfast correspondent, never passing up an opportunity to discuss the weather, sports, or any other subject of the day. The great unfulfilled tragedy of his life was that, at the very moment of his greatest success, victory in the US championship, he died in his sleep.

Isaac Newton had some trouble with chess. His father gave him a brand new set for his birthday. After a few minutes of basic instruction, the elder opened with 1. e3. Isaac countered with Ke9.

Hah, the last two are the best so far. Wish I had something to contribute

Two idiots were playing chess. Just before the middlegame the kings got heart attacks...

That is a very good one.

Q. What is the difference between a large cheese pizza and a chess Grandmaster.

A. The pizza can feed a family of four.