As a Canadian teenager back in the 1970's I made some [optimistic] guesses about what chess might have in store for me, Canada, or even for the grand old game itself, if I decided to pursue it at least half seriously for a lifetime, and these guesses all proved to be entirely ... wrong. :(
Guess #1: I could become at least a GM if I studied hard, if not a world-class player or even world champion.
Reality: This didn't happen. I consider myself fairly exceptional to have even become a master by my mid-twenties (but I advanced no further).
Btw, it should be well known that nowadays if you haven't made a big splash by the time you're twenty, you can forget about being a world-class player. I forget where I read this, but it seems to be quite true.
Guess #2: If I became at least a master, I would surely more than recoup all of my lifetime's tournament entry fees (if not book and equipment costs) in prize money.
Reality: Not even close.
Guess #3: Even if I failed to become any sort of a strong player, I could hope to produce some sort of brilliant 'immortal game' that would be published all over the world.
Reality: Even though I became a master, I've long since realized that it invariably takes two strong players playing freakishly good chess for there to be any chance of a masterpiece ever being produced. Oddly enough, my relatively recent simul games against Short and Shirov did make it to Chessbase's website momentarily, and lots of my lesser games are distributed worldwide, courtesy of monster databases now.
Guess #4: The state of organized chess in Canada would somehow improve in a steady fashion, enabling me to think about playing professionally, i.e. without writing, teaching, and coaching, even if I was merely an IM. That was in spite of what the know-it-all middle-aged casual players were constantly saying at the local club.
Reality: As we all know, this didn't happen, but, rather, things got worse, to put it mildly. I can console myself with the thought that one IM I know made the same miscalculation regarding Canada's chess 'infrastructure', and he has stopped playing the game for several years now.
Guess #5: Computer playing programs would never rise to the level of strong chess players, so the glory of humanity (including possibly myself) would forever rule chess. All the books I read back in the 1970's said so. I had some doubts, but when I took into account the exponential possibilities of the game, I finally reassured myself it was true.
Reality: Boy was everybody wrong!
Having seen all of my early guesses/dreams for chess long since crushed, one might ask what I now get out of playing the game. Well, aside from being left somewhat addicted to the game, I still get a kick out of playing a huge variety of openings and positions. Looking up stuff in databases and books still makes for fun home study - very hobby-like. I get to play weekly at my local club, where competition is generally neither too weak nor too strong.
Even more fun is going upstairs to the bar and grill after my club games. Weekend chess cash prize tournaments provide the illusion of chasing after serious cash, even though rationally I know it's a losing gamble in the long run, especially now that some titled players are competing (though it's stimulating to play them still). I think I may be looking forward to getting into seniors chess in a decade, especially if the CMA (or CFC ?? ) provides the infrastructure.
Guess #1: I could become at least a GM if I studied hard, if not a world-class player or even world champion.
Reality: This didn't happen. I consider myself fairly exceptional to have even become a master by my mid-twenties (but I advanced no further).
Btw, it should be well known that nowadays if you haven't made a big splash by the time you're twenty, you can forget about being a world-class player. I forget where I read this, but it seems to be quite true.
Guess #2: If I became at least a master, I would surely more than recoup all of my lifetime's tournament entry fees (if not book and equipment costs) in prize money.
Reality: Not even close.
Guess #3: Even if I failed to become any sort of a strong player, I could hope to produce some sort of brilliant 'immortal game' that would be published all over the world.
Reality: Even though I became a master, I've long since realized that it invariably takes two strong players playing freakishly good chess for there to be any chance of a masterpiece ever being produced. Oddly enough, my relatively recent simul games against Short and Shirov did make it to Chessbase's website momentarily, and lots of my lesser games are distributed worldwide, courtesy of monster databases now.
Guess #4: The state of organized chess in Canada would somehow improve in a steady fashion, enabling me to think about playing professionally, i.e. without writing, teaching, and coaching, even if I was merely an IM. That was in spite of what the know-it-all middle-aged casual players were constantly saying at the local club.
Reality: As we all know, this didn't happen, but, rather, things got worse, to put it mildly. I can console myself with the thought that one IM I know made the same miscalculation regarding Canada's chess 'infrastructure', and he has stopped playing the game for several years now.
Guess #5: Computer playing programs would never rise to the level of strong chess players, so the glory of humanity (including possibly myself) would forever rule chess. All the books I read back in the 1970's said so. I had some doubts, but when I took into account the exponential possibilities of the game, I finally reassured myself it was true.
Reality: Boy was everybody wrong!
Having seen all of my early guesses/dreams for chess long since crushed, one might ask what I now get out of playing the game. Well, aside from being left somewhat addicted to the game, I still get a kick out of playing a huge variety of openings and positions. Looking up stuff in databases and books still makes for fun home study - very hobby-like. I get to play weekly at my local club, where competition is generally neither too weak nor too strong.
Even more fun is going upstairs to the bar and grill after my club games. Weekend chess cash prize tournaments provide the illusion of chasing after serious cash, even though rationally I know it's a losing gamble in the long run, especially now that some titled players are competing (though it's stimulating to play them still). I think I may be looking forward to getting into seniors chess in a decade, especially if the CMA (or CFC ?? ) provides the infrastructure.
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