Neut

Fifty years ago when I was eighteen, my classmate John and I decided to learn to play chess.  In our quest we ran across an old man named Neut.  He was ninety years old when we met him and he had only one good eye.  How we heard about him is a long story.  But he invited us to his house to play chess.  John would play him while I watched, and then John would watch while I played him.  Old Neut, at ninety years old almost always won, although both John and I managed to get a win now and then.  I remember the big old house over looking the Missouri River and that old man who was so good, the quiet of his house, a grandfather clock ticking, otherwise silence, except the sound of thinking and winning or losing, thinking and winning or losing, tick, tick, no cell phones, no web sites, no chess.com, just the sounds of thinking and winning or losing.  Off to the side was a crossword puzzle.  The old man was good at occuping his time when he was alone and not challenged by us two youngsters. Neut is a memory of how chess was way back when.  Ixodes

wow,quite some memory you have...what else can i say here?