Chess

I love playing chess. The older I get, the better I seem to be at it. I suppose I am a late-starter having played in my first ever tournament only a few years ago in my mid-forties. At that time I also narrowly missed getting a draw against a Grandmaster in an outdoor simultaneous exhibition in the very attractive surroundings of Olomouc town square.

However, in my formative teenage years I merely dabbled with the game, as I would with Ludo or Snakes and Ladders, but never seemed to do anything with it. It was just another board game. That was until I played a match with my friend, Steve, which must surely rank as one of the unknown classic matches of all time.

One evening in the pub (when I was about 20), we somehow got onto the subject of chess. Soon, the alcohol was talking and the gauntlet was inevitably thrown down by myself. We would have a chess match back at his home – a best of five games challenge. For such a serious contest, our preparation was somewhat lacking, and by the time we had arrived there, set up the board, and cracked open another can of beer in order to stimulate the thinking processes, we were both very tired and well on the way to being quite drunk. However, here I was playing an ex-school team member, no less, and I was a complete novice.

I calculated that Steve had probably had more to drink than myself. With every swig of beer that he had I sensed weakness. The smell of victory seemed to waft on the night breeze through the open window. This was surely my chance for glory. His scalp was for the taking. I rose to the occasion and took full advantage of Steve’s condition (by now he was dozing on and off), and surged into a two-nil lead. One more win and I would be the undisputed champion. I was home and dry; or so I thought...

It was then that Steve began to sense the urgency of his grave situation and woke up. Somewhere, in the deeper recesses of his pride, socks were pulled up and skates were put on as he roused himself to sobriety, whilst at the same time I began to flounder. My sharp edge was now blunted by the need for my brain to close down. It was well past midnight and the lure of sleep was proving too strong for any more concentration. In no time at all, Steve had pulled it back to two games all. We could have done the gentlemanly thing and agreed a draw; but we were young, we were stubborn, and there just had to be a winner. We blundered on, deep into the early morning hours. The call of sleep lured us into silent slumbers, and we were both reduced to waking each other up in order to make a move. Confusion set in when we both fell asleep at the same time. One of us would wake up, wake the other one up, then we would debate as to whose move it was, and then one of us would fall asleep again whilst waiting for the other one to make a move, which in due time they did, and then promptly fell asleep once more. The process was repeated again more than a few times...

I swear to this day that Steve had two or maybe even three moves in a row. I was convinced that I’d been robbed of a certain victory. Well, by now you’ve probably guessed the outcome of this match...

22nd December - ROLL ON SPRING DAY!

There it is! I have created a new Festival/Celebration/Holiday myself! The 'Roll on Spring Day' on 22nd Decemeber, for yesterday was the shortest, darkest day that we experience in the northern hemisphere...and we can at last begin to look forward to longer days - which will hopefully mean more daylight, more sunshine, less snow & slush...the beautiful birds returning & singing. This is a day of hope - the hope of things to come. Let it roll on!! Come on Spring!!
I am reminded of the song 'Undertow' by Genesis - especially the chorus:
"Let me live again, let life come find me wanting.
Spring must strike again against the shield of winter.
Let me feel once more the arms of love surround me,
Telling me the danger's past, I need not fear the icy blast again."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwsaBX9sJ3s

The bitter and the sweet

About 3 weeks ago I came to work & heard the worst possible news...a student I knew from last year (Honza) had taken his life. He was only about 20/21, seemed to be a fairly level-headed guy - the only man in a class of young women...his future ahead of him...and in a few moments it was all over. I can only imagine what kind of thoughts drove him to believe the lies that they were, and that it was better if his life was over. When I watch "It's a Wonderful Life" this Christmas, I think it will be all the more poignant...
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0038650/

Needless to say, I was shocked & really not ready to teach. Withing 15 minutes of this news I was taking a class & marking them. Their theme was to create a festival/celebration/special day & to give a short talk about it. One young woman, Šary, did a talk based on 'National Hugging Day'. It was fun & creative...it helped to take my mind off the bad news I'd heard. But I was unprepared for the ending...She finished her talk & asked me to stand up. Having done so, she said to me, "Mr. Everill, you look sad today & I think you need this..." And with that, in full view of the rest of the class, she gave me a hug...It was all I could do not to cry!! I admire her boldness - no student has ever done such a thing to me in one of my lessons...indeed, even out of my lessons! But I considered it as a 'God moment'...for only God knew that I needed such a touch at that time. Powerful.