Family Snippets - 7. Checkmate

It all started the night before.

We were at my sister’s house for our monthly family get-together. As Janine’s birthday had been during the previous month, we were obliged to attend. The boys enjoyed going to my sister’s house, anyway, as there were lots of toys there that they only saw once a month, at best.

Dinner had been quite successful. The boys ate their usual big dinner – a single sausage roll each. Given the attraction of new toys, eating always comes a poor second in their list of priorities. They only ate at all because we insisted. Their preference was to skip dinner and keep playing.

After dinner, while the adults had a leisurely conversation over coffee, the boys and their cousins disappeared to other parts of the house.

It was only as we were getting ready to leave did I track them down. I found Colin with his seven-year-old cousin Mark. Mark was teaching Colin how to play chess.

Naturally, I watched eagerly. I’ve always enjoyed chess, though I haven’t played a serious game for more than a decade. I’d been wondering if the boys were old enough to learn, and it was apparent that the answer was “Yes”.

With a little assistance from his dad (“Move that bishop there, Colin. Now move your queen over here,”) Colin eventually won. He didn’t know he’d checkmated his cousin, as he had no idea of the idea of the game.

Colin’s method of working out if he was winning was interesting. If he’d captured more pieces than the other player, he was winning. It didn’t matter if they were pawns or queens – it was the number that counted.

It was now past time to go, but there was no way Colin had been prepared to go until he’d finished his game.

“Can we play again?” Colin asked me.

“No, it’s time to go home,” I said as I stood up.

“I want to play again,” he insisted, staying stubbornly seated.

“It’s time to go home,” I repeated sternly.

He was tired. It only took a minute of firmly telling him that we were going before he gave up. Now, if it’d been Andrew, it would’ve taken at least five minutes of complex negotiations, but his elder brother is more amenable.

As I put Colin into the car, he made his tactical move.

“Will you play chess with me, Daddy?”

“Tomorrow,” I replied, falling into the trap.

“I want to play another game tonight!”

“It’s too late. It’ll be bedtime when we get home.”

“Can we play chess before bed?”

“No, Colin. Tomorrow, I’ll play with you. I promise,” I answered, sealing my doom.

By the time we arrived home, Andrew was already fast asleep, and Colin was barely conscious.

“Will you play chess with me?” Colin asked me drowsily, as I took him out of the car.

One thing that occurs with kids as they grow older is their concentration span improves. The ability to keep their focus on one thing for an extended period of time is critical for school. I’m happy to say that Colin’s proven his ability in this area beyond reasonable doubt. Now, if he could just learn to remember the answers he’d been given, life would start to become easier.

“Tomorrow,” I promised gently.

The next morning, Colin remembered that promise. I took shameless advantage of his enthusiasm to make him eat a good breakfast. All I had to do was to tell him that we couldn’t play until he’d had his breakfast. Andrew was also keen to learn so, after they’d finished eating, I had two eager young boys watching as I dragged out my old magnetic chess set.

“I’ll start by showing you how all the pieces move.”

“I already know,” Colin replied haughtily.

“But Andrew doesn’t,” I pointed out.

I started with the major pieces.

“This piece is called the rook or castle. You can call it either.”

“I’m going to call it a castle,” Colin stated. His brother quickly agreed.

“And, this piece is called a knight.”

“I’m going to call it a horsey,” Andrew said.

“That’s okay,” I replied. I think almost every young kid starts by calling it that.

“I’m going to call it a knight,” Colin said. “And I’m going to call this one a horsey,” he added pointing at the other knight.

I raised my eyebrows at that. I’d never considered calling the same pieces different names.

“And I’m going to call this one a knight,” Andrew said, pointing to his second knight.

Okay, I can live with that. Rather than two knights, or two horsey’s, they had one of each.