Friday, September 16, 2005

Distractions at the chess board

It is my enduring misfortune to have been taught by a pretty and petite English teacher. I was in junior high and I was a distracted young man. Might also have had to do with the way she over pronounced her syllables. You know, to seem well educated. Her lips formed the sounds as if like a come-on. And so, I'd sit there thinking black laces. Being a helpless young fella I really couldn't resist my mind wandering off into all sorts of nook and crannies. If I were caught with a blank face, I'd be chastised thus, "you're physically present but mentally absent". Yep, that's what I was!

Believe it or not, this was a Catholic boy's school. Sad to say, I seem to still suffer from these moments of imaginary lapses during chess play. I cannot count the number of times when I'm suddenly surrounded by a dozen vixens while contemplating my 10th move in a Bayonet Attack KID. I just sit there like a stunned mullet. But who can blame me, eh? Ann Regentin is right, you know:
The language of chess is very sexual. I mean, what are you supposed to think when somebody declares that they're going to mate you in five moves so you might as well surrender now? Things get taken in chess. They can also be pinned and skewered. If you're going to nab the queen, you have to move in carefully, obliquely, much like a tricky seduction.
Recently, Kramnik had certain problems with his performance. Apparently all due to some poor "concentration". Well, God knows what he's been thinking about!

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