Each Friday evening I take a class in Mandarin at the Chelmsford Chinese Language School. After that class, I go to chess club, while Naomi studies Chinese Folk Dance. I wrote this at the end of last year.
Carissa is quietly contemplative. She keeps her body movements still, with a level of concentration that seems incongruous with her age. She looks disarming. Yet she plays chess with such aggression that I find myself doing nothing more than react to her constant attacks the entire game, with no chance to implement a winning strategy of my own.
Jeffrey is “all boy.” Every time he makes a good move, his whole body shakes with elation. He laughs with glee every time he puts forth another reveal, or forces me to choose which of two pieces I am going to have eaten by his.
I am 42. They are both just seven years old. In addition to their age, they have one other thing in common: They absolutely destroy me at chess.
But the children weren’t the only ones who learn and improve. I go back every week, and I get better.
Keep going. One day, they may let you play with the upper elementary kids! Aim high, that’s what I say.
What’s funny is that the teens tend to be easier to beat. Maybe because they’ve discovered the opposite gender.
In my defense, Carissa plays well enough that she was invited to represent the US in chess, on last year’s delegation to Brazil.
Sheesh, I have trouble remembering how all the pieces move…I’ll play you Doug, then you’ll feel like a master of the game:-)