I remember when Urban was only, like, four years old, he asked Brian to teach him how to play “Chest.” Well, he was too young then, but now he’s in Cub Scouts, and one of the subjects he can get a belt loop (kind of like a badge) for is Chess. So Brian taught him how. He loses to Brian every time, of course, but he does have the basic idea down—enough that he was awarded the Chess belt loop at the last Pack meeting.
Yesterday was a sick day—I kept Urban home because he was clearly not feeling well in the morning. But by midday, he was full of his usual pep, and he insisted that I allow him to teach me how to play Chess. And I must admit, he did a very good job of explaining it to me; I was pretty impressed.
But no wonder this game is generally reserved for the intellectual set.
Just keeping all the pieces straight—the who-can-move-where’s—is mind-boggling. I kept having to refer to the instruction book that came with the game board. I mean, every move, I had to look at that book. Poor Urban was getting frustrated about that, but I told him, I could either look at the book every time, have him tell me every time, or completely flout the rules of the game every time. “Take your pick!”
I guess I just don’t have the patience for such games. It’s not that I love a game to be all luck and no strategy, because such games tend to be very boring (e.g., Monopoly Junior). But when it’s all strategy and no luck…..well, I lose every time against Brian.
Urban must be part of the great Ewald tradition of gaming triumph.
I got my butt kicked. (But, okay, it was sort of fun. 
)
(Photo courtesy of Microsoft Clip Art Gallery.)
