rangerfreak616
Dec 18, 2010
Undergraduate / "Chess like war" - describe an intellectual or creative interest of yours. [6]
Despite the nerdy stereotype of the game, I discovered that chess has a war-like feel, and fell in love with the game. After all, chess involves two armies out to destroy each other. My imagination ran wild every time I played. Gazing at the chessboard, I felt like an army general. I was Alexander the Great most of the time, but when I was in a really bad mood, Genghis Khan. While setting up the board, I was actually patrolling my troops, encouraging them for the tough battle that lay ahead.
Like war, chess has its casualties: captured pieces. Most of my opponents jumped at any opportunity to capture a piece, or draw first blood. I remember one game in which my opponent captured one of my pawns "I killed it" he said. "You didn't kill it," I answered. "He's a POW." For me, this was a serious philosophical debate over the nature of the game. I refused to believe that the pieces, my men, were killed. After all, they were standing there at the edge of the board. I determined my captured men's fate on the character of my opponent. If he seemed arrogant and annoying, like this particular kid, I imagined my captive men being dragged in to some dark, roach-infested dungeon where they were cruelly tortured and interrogated. Of course, this only increased my desire to destroy the enemy and rescue my captured men. On the other hand, if my opponent seemed quiet and reserved, he was fooling no one, certainly not me. He probably had tricked my men into revealing my secrets to him, and he was just covering it up with his poker-face.
Despite the nerdy stereotype of the game, I discovered that chess has a war-like feel, and fell in love with the game. After all, chess involves two armies out to destroy each other. My imagination ran wild every time I played. Gazing at the chessboard, I felt like an army general. I was Alexander the Great most of the time, but when I was in a really bad mood, Genghis Khan. While setting up the board, I was actually patrolling my troops, encouraging them for the tough battle that lay ahead.
Like war, chess has its casualties: captured pieces. Most of my opponents jumped at any opportunity to capture a piece, or draw first blood. I remember one game in which my opponent captured one of my pawns "I killed it" he said. "You didn't kill it," I answered. "He's a POW." For me, this was a serious philosophical debate over the nature of the game. I refused to believe that the pieces, my men, were killed. After all, they were standing there at the edge of the board. I determined my captured men's fate on the character of my opponent. If he seemed arrogant and annoying, like this particular kid, I imagined my captive men being dragged in to some dark, roach-infested dungeon where they were cruelly tortured and interrogated. Of course, this only increased my desire to destroy the enemy and rescue my captured men. On the other hand, if my opponent seemed quiet and reserved, he was fooling no one, certainly not me. He probably had tricked my men into revealing my secrets to him, and he was just covering it up with his poker-face.
