The Chess Game...

I used to play chess with my uncle 'Peach' in the summer when I was a child. He lived right down the street. He worked nights so he'd always be out on the front porch in the afternoon. I was raised in a pretty strict household. I appreciate it now that I'm older that my parents had enough respect for me and for themselves to raise me with moral values. It wasn't that my uncle had no morals but he leaned a little more to the left than most anyone I met when I was young. He believed there were UFOs and Bigfoots and that anything was possible in the physical universe. We'd talk about anything and anything I could think of, he'd almost accept as plausible. When I was ten, he started teaching me how to play chess. Once I learned the ins and outs of the game, I was hooked. So many possibilities, so many pieces. It made me feel smarter as a child just to play such a sofisticated game. He'd win most times but never without a lesson. He'd wear cargo shorts and socks and slippers. I loved my uncle.

Well, fast forward 20 years and I'm in Iraq as a man. I've been here for a month and I've only seen guys playing backgammon. I didn't bring a chess set because I brought like, one of everything else. Tonight, I saw one of the cooks carrying a case that could either be checkers or chess. I ignored the urge and just watched. Two cooks walked over to a picnic (iraqi style) table and opened the case. My heart jumped when I saw those pieces coming out of the box. Knights, Queens, Rooks, oh.........It was like an alchoholic trying to walk through a crowded bar filled with free drinks. I tried to maintain until they finished their game. I did. I went to get my evening coffee and there the set sat. My RUSSIAN bodyguard was with me and I couldn't resist anymore. "America vs. Russian?" I said and raising my eyebrows towards the chess set sitting idle in the kitchen. I might as well said I'd give one of my kids away. The russian had the pieces and set out and going in a matter of seconds. I'm going to play a real Russsian in chess I thought. My uncle would have passed out. He died of cancer two years ago and I still love him like he was watching me tonight.

I was white so I made the first move. He moved and I moved......we battled on a kitchen floor model freezer in the middle of the desert in Iraq and it was great!!! We took pieces from each other and in the end........A DRAW!!! I was happy. My first Russian opponent and it ended in a draw. My Uncle Peach would have cried.. Next, the chief cook. Iraqi. Oh he couldn't wait. He gave commentary on the previous match and now it was his turn to play his first American..

It was a great battle. Almost an hour. He soundly defeated me. That's the way the game is though. When it was done, their was one proud Iraqi, one proud Russian and one very satisfied American.........Life really is strange......in a good way....