At the Chess Board
July 14, 2010
Tags: Learning Chess Articles

At the Chess Board
Written by guest author Greg Delaney for Wholesale Chess.
There are countless human experiences that can and do teach us something about ourselves and how we think, feel, and behave. Little did I know when I was drawn back to the game in 2005, how profoundly revealing of oneself the game of chess can be. Since chess reduces the element of chance to a minimum, what happens at the chess board approximates truth perhaps as closely as we human beings can experience it. Chess is not all about memorization and calculation and technique, although these functions are all part of the game. I have found in the past five years that chess is really about us and who we are.
In a very real sense, the chess board is an arena of total honesty. Everything that occurs is within view of both players. Of course, there are masked threats and camouflaged traps and subtle strategy, but the opponent has every chance to observe each move and attempt to interpret its meaning and importance. I’ve learned that a game of chess is decided by who “sees” more that the opponent. How many times have we blundered and said, “Oh, I missed that move!” Well, the possibility of “that move” existed openly for us to note and respond, but we didn’t see it. Nevertheless, it was there. Truth is truth, whether we see it or not. And the truth about who we each are is there, too.
For me, to get better at chess means to accurately identify and correct numerous flaws in my own personality. Of course, there is learning about the game to be done, but the hindrances to that learning reside within me. It is my own impulsivity, anxieties, narrowness of view, and laziness that undermine my efforts to get better at chess. These personality failings have become my real opponent. For five years, I have attended chess clinics, worked with a variety of chess books, chess software, and chess DVDs. I have consulted titled chess players for guidance and encouragement. And, yes, I have spent quite a lot of money in the process. And the key has been inside me all along.
While in no way attempting to minimize the significance of “chess learning,” I have come to believe that my chess will improve only when some aspects of my character do. When I stop relying on Fritz to figure out alternatives and do the thinking myself, I will get better. When I choose to put forth more and not less effort when things go wrong at the chess board, I’ll turn some losses into draws, and maybe even to wins. At such time as I decide that I have at least as many good qualities as faults at the chess board, I will play with more confidence and vigor. How fortunate we are that this “game of kings” reveals to us so much truth about ourselves!
Greg Delaney is Life Member of USCF who returned to chess in 2005 after a three decade hiatus from the game he loves. He is an educator, club player, and student of IM Yelena Dembo. For fun, he blogs about chess and his work to improve as a player.

July 22nd, 2010 at 8:23 am
chess flaws = flaws in personality? Interesting . . .
July 27th, 2010 at 1:56 pm
I don’t think the article is saying directly that ‘flaws’ in a personality (is there such a thing?) always correlate directly with flaws in a chess game. Simply that understanding the way you think in life helps you understand the way you think in chess . . .
July 29th, 2010 at 10:21 am
My basic point is that we can often identify the impact of our human failings in how we play chess. Thus, we can learn things about ourselves from the mistakes we make in chess, and we can make changes in our personality traits that can help our chess improve.
Sounds like it might be appropriate to submit an article that goes into greater depth about this idea.