The failed redemption of a ten year old girl......
This weekend was exhausting, exhilarating and frustrating all rolled into one. I spent a total of thirty hours over saturday and sunday staring at a chess board. Nine am to midnight both days, struggling to vanquish my comrades and capture the crown of the city candidates championship. Thousands of calculations went through my head, all the while being vaguely aware that time just stopped for me; for the better part of two days I do not remember doing anything but going through a myriad of combinations punctuated at night by a few hours of sleep. The number of neurons firing off in my head must have been a personal best. I ended up winning, tying two others for first:(http://www.homestead.com/memphischessclub/candidates2005.html). I was in the Commercial Appeal and the Memphis Flyer as well as on TV. Not that the exposure for me was important as much as it is for chess in general and specifically for women. For this account of my tactical prowess is merely the backdrop for the observation as follows....

Grandmaster Palatnik (http://www.chessinn.com/) is one of the strongest players in the world. He has previously held the title of champion both in the former Soviet Union and in Europe. For those of you not familiar with the ranking system used in chess, a grandmaster is the highest rank obtainable, one of only a handful in the world. Their powers of concentration are so immense that I once saw him play 15 good chess players simultaneously at the same time and destroy them.....blindfolded. He only plays in national tournaments held across the world and does not "trifle" with small accomplishments such as the city championship (there-bye allowing me to win). On Sunday Palatnik gave a simul with the proceeds going to the Tsunami Relief fund (http://www.homestead.com/memphischessclub/Tsunami.html). A simul is when a Grandmaster plays a large number of people at the same time, walking around in a large circle moving from board to board. For the willing participant the question is not who will win (for this is a forgone conclusion but who will last the longest). Somewhat akin to re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic; someone may do a nicer job but the end result is guaranteed. Fifty players piled into the Hilton with twice that watching. As the players took their seats in front of their respective boards I noticed a small, petite young girl (dropped off by her mother) join the fray. With her ponytails bobbing rhythmically with the placement of her pieces, she quietly took position behind the board, paper and pen in hand (to record the notation of the game) and patiently awaited the start of the festivities. I went back to answering questions from the prospective players (as I and several of my chess playing comrades from the club were helping Palatnik in his preparation, lending service as assistants, making ready the slaughter). Most of the participants were adults, however there were a significant amount of adolescents and young boys playing as well. I noticed that the young girl sat alone but not by choice as several of her male compatriots (roughly her age) left their seats when she sat next to them and sought other positions elsewhere within the circle, not wanting to be associated with some "girl" who adopted such audacious behavior as to actually think that she could compete in such a male dominated sport.

The simul began, and a lucid hush descended upon the room like a thick shroud. Gradually, quiet conversations took on significant importance for in a simul players may give advice one to another. I noticed brain trusts forming, as collectives sought answers to their positional dilemmas. The demographics were obviously influenced by age as the adults worked together and the children and teenagers (all male) worked feverishly to extricate themselves from their inferior calculations. But the girl worked alone, and not by choice as her comrades shunned her on account of her sex, and expected her to exit quickly through some disastrous defeat. I made my way to her noticing that throughout the past hour she barely stirred, so focused was she on the board. As her glasses slipped down her nose I could see her silently mouthing the calculations, however shallow, her eyes darting from one square to the next. A short distance away I stood watching her survey the board with all the confidence of a well rounded tactician. I did not think she would last long so I approached her and asked if she would like a soda. She looked up at me and stated nothing, probably obeying the age old adage on talking to strangers or heeding her mother's advice on the way there to watch out for older men, etc. After briefly looking at her position on the board I smiled to reassure her that my intentions were honest and walked away to attend to the other players when I heard her quietly say to me, "Be2-c5-0-0-Nbd7." I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. She saw something, and it was something I did not expect her to see. Responding back in the language of chess notation (which is based on a algebraic grid to to describe existing moves and to simulate future ones), I replied "QxN" in which she quickly replied "Rxa3 sac, queen lost to Bxd7." I promptly returned to her board and dropped to one knee beside her, running the calculation through for validity. I was impressed, one so young that saw beyond what I thought she was capable of. I spoke to her slowly, extending the calculation several moves ahead, letting her see the board in her mind as I had seen it. She was silent for almost a full minute when her eyes widened and she grabbed my hand to acknowledge that she now grasped the additional moves. That is when I saw it in her eyes. She had that fire but it was a fire born of judicious combustion. Her grasp of positional play had stunned me and I knew that this one was different. I wanted to train her. To turn her into a calculating monster. I envisioned her smashing fragile male egos and holding court over weakened opponents, their phrenic insolence melting into the floor.

One by one, the younger players were dispatched, yet she hung on. One by one the boys that ignored and castigated her had to walk past her in defeat as she played on, a testament to their own arrogant stupidity. Now only the adults and one child remained...this shy ten year old girl who dared tread where young girls have been told not to tread. I was not the only one impressed, Palatnik was impressed as well, so much so that he offered her a draw (though like everyone else she was clearly losing, and badly at that). But her desperate and hard fought play, so rare in one so young and in a young girl at that, earned recognition as the great Grandmaster offered her a draw and shook her hand telling her loudly enough for everyone to hear that her skill impressed him. The boys stood in stunned silence as she beamed with pride as the word "draw" was written in her scoresheet, one of only three draws that night given to those who exhibited unique play within their demographic.

As if on cue, her mother strode in and locating her child told her to pack her stuff up for she had school on the morrow. I approached the mother and told her of her daughter's great accomplishment, curiously though it did not register with her. I repeated again that I was very impressed with her daughter, all the while her daughter beamed with pride as I recounted what she had done. Her mother grew agitated and told me that it was just a game. I replied that while it is indeed "just a game" there are beneficial results of being good at chess such as increased cognitive and reasoning skills, elevated IQ, enhanced spatial reasoning, etc. It was then that her mother angrily denounced her daughter's interest in this game as only suitable for males and one that is not "proper" for girls. My anger boiled within me as she grabbed her daughter's hand and quickly walked away, her daughter's head hung low.

What she could have become.....what a waste.