Check Mate

While I was in Denver on business a couple of weeks ago and the family was "home alone," LJ participated in his first real chess tournament. My younger brother, Steven, tutors him in chess once a week and accompanied him to a local scholastic event.

Participating in this tournament was a big leap for LJ. He had played successfully in chess club and camp at school, but this was different. He knew going into the tournament that there would be better players than him and that he would likely lose the majority of his matches.

For a kid who hates losing almost as much as he hates sledding, this was a risk.

As it turned out, LJ won two of his six matches and had a positive enough experience that he wants to enter more tournaments in the near future.

I am thrilled he seems to really love a "thinking man's" game, but I'm actually even more ecstatic that I do not know the first thing about it.

I mean it. I do not know ANYTHING about chess. I cannot even line up the cute little horsey character in the right spot on the board.

And I like it that way.

I'm not sure how I avoided chess by osmosis as a child. My dad was an avid player, and although I was fascinated by his "high-tech" liquid crystal magnetic electronic chess board, I never learned how to use it.

My older brother, TJ, knew how to play, and he and my dad engaged in matches pretty frequently. And Steven is a very accomplished player, as he has won the New Hampshire state high school championship and traveled up and down the East Coast to play in tournaments.

But not me. And the reason I plan to keep it that way is as simple as a Queen's gambit (that's a beginner's chess move according to Google).

I love being able to encourage LJ and watch him play without knowing a right move versus a wrong move; a good decision versus a bad one; or a near victory versus a certain defeat.

I played soccer for years, so when I watch LJ play for his team, the Rattlers, it's hard not give him suggestions. I swam competitively for even longer, so when I watch LJ race for the Bedford Sharks, it's too easy to offer stroke critique.

No matter what sport (or activity) I'm watching the kids participate in, I always try to remove myself from it as much as possible. I know the last thing they need is any more pressure to perform. But I think that as parents, we all know that's so much easier said than done.

With chess, ignorance is bliss.

I can just relax and take it in because I have absolutely no clue what is going on. I can focus on LJ, and not his actions. I don't know if he's just made a terrible move or a great one. I don't know if he's about win or lose. And I don't really care. I just love to watch his expressions and listen as he talks himself through his moves and strategy.

So, while I usually feel a pang of guilt when LJ offers to teach me how to play chess, I think I'll keep telling him "no thanks." (Besides, I know he only wants me to learn so he can beat me).

There are so few times we parents can sit back and just observe our kids.

To put that in chess terms, I think that would be something like ... "take time to stop and smell the Fried Liver attack."

No really, that is a chess move.

LJ just told me so.