Concentrating on Chess

            The short story, "Arm Wrestling with My Father", was intriguing because it managed to connect with me on a more personal level. Through its anecdotes and analogies it managed to amaze me through emotional appeal. The different expressions/forms of love and how it tied in to their ever changing lives, left me speechless. 
             I can remember it like it was yesterday. There it was, 64 squares and 32 pieces. The ritual of the mind had begun from a young age. I remember in those games how my father would always let me choose which side to play, knowing that he would always win in the end. My greatest efforts did not change a thing. It did not matter whether I played he English opening or the French defense, both were futile against his continual advances. I saw myself staring into the timer, a bead of sweat formed across my forehead. In the end, all I could here from him was a series of "checks" before the final "checkmate". Each loss was a detriment to myself; another strategy book that I had to read. I became obsessed and consumed with the task.

"I am no longer a challenger, quick to correct his verbal mistakes, determined to beat him whenever possible in competition."

           It was not soon after that I had already moved on. The games were shoved aside in favor of other interests. The mat of 64 squares was left rolled up on the table. The 32 pieces were stored neatly in their respective pouches. The timer sat there, waiting for time to pass. School was becoming ever more intense, and the time that I shared with him dwindled evermore. Maybe this summer, we will play each other again. Maybe this summer, I will be the one to say "checkmate". Or maybe rather than any of this, I'll just have fun.

(A little chess puzzle as a throwback to those times. As the title implies, white moves first and it takes three moves to checkmate. Can you figure it out?)