Wednesday Workout: Dispatches From Omaha

In 2019 I won the u1800 prize at the U.S. Open, pushing my rating to a near-personal high — my actual high was achieved at the 2018 Open — and was feeling pretty good about my chess. 1900 was in sight, and then… expert? Dare to dream.

A lot has happened. I became editor of Chess Life, and now, Chess Life Kids. I underwent a pretty significant health challenge. My daughter rightly took more of my attention. And there was that little thing called COVID-19.

Since those golden days in Orlando, my rating has dropped 150 points, and some days, it feels like chess is a completely different language, one I studied once in high school but have largely forgotten.

(Sound familiar, anyone?)

Chess is hard. The kids keep getting better, and I keep getting older. There’s always something else to do, some other task or outing that takes priority over studying. The roof needs fixed. The faucet leaks. I (really) should go to the gym.

But I can’t give this game up, even when it hurts.

I really like what Chris Wainscott had to say in his recent thinkpiece for Chess Life Online. Like him, I struggle a bit with the “chess improver” moniker; in place of his preferred “adult enjoyer,” I tend to go with “chess amateur,” leaning on the latter’s Latin roots to get at why I continue to play. It’s love of the game — even, and especially, when it doesn’t love me back — that keeps me coming back for more.

We play rated chess every Wednesday night here in Omaha, at a club named for a local organizer who died 50 years ago. Sometimes it’s blitz, sometimes it’s as slow a time control as our hosts allow. Sometimes I give the lessons, and sometimes, I get them.

And sometimes I manage to play interesting games that, even if frustrating and flawed, give me enough hope to keep banging my head against the board.

Here’s a recent draw against new Nebraska state champ Nick Lacroix. I found quite a few good moves, but missed some even better ones. Can you improve on my play? (Hope so.) The complete game is at the end of the Lichess study.

Enjoy.

Seriously, and please: enjoy.