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BECAUSE I seldom mention my
contribution to keeping the sun from setting on the British Empire, it may
not be generally known that chess played a strategic part in my chequered
Army career moves in black and white lands of sun, sand and sweat.
You must
understand that I was not always as you see me now - one broken down, like
a government statistic, by age, taxes and the toil of journalism - but an
Army corporal whose brass stripes were burnished blindingly-bright and
matched the undimmed ardour of his mind. By my Schlieffen Plan blitzkrieg
opening and Magi-not-Line-type defence, I may not have been expert at
changing step on the march but when it came to displaying the ambit of my
gambits, outmanoeuvring bishops and toppling castles, I reckoned I was a
nice mover in the imperial game and among the best lightweight, chessboard
warriors between the White Nile and the Limpopo.
While
stationed at Nairobi, in Kenya, I and an officer in charge of staff
postings wiled away languorous hours playing chess (officers earn their
money easily). His moves resembled Light Brigade charges, fancy but
futile; mine were like some Russian re-doubt at Sevastopol - stolid but
successful. I kept beating him and one day, surveying the detritus of his
defeat, he retreated in hyper-dudgeon.
Next day I was posted - not to
some palm-fringed, golden-sanded, cocktail-bar-flecked outpost of imperial
importance, but to the arid wastes of British Somaliland, where my
attempts to introduce feuding tribal chiefs to the subtle clash-es of
chess warfare proved ineffectual, their views resembling that of Bernard
Shaw who said that chess was, "a foolish expedient for making idle people
believe they are doing something very clever, when they are only wasting
their time".
As an unshakeable chess hand, I deny that squarely
and only mention this because Charles Clarke, the Education Secretary,
wants to encourage children to play chess to im-prove their academic
skills. A keen chess player, himself, he has talked to the British Chess
Federation about promoting the game in primary and secondary schools
although it will not be in the curriculum.
An admirable move al-though,
regrettably, there are no similar plans for Scottish schools, some of
which, however, have chess clubs. While England and Wales may produce
improved intellects as a result of board battles, chess should be
approached with caution - too much of it and the mental and physical
cylinders could go into overdrive.
The dapper Cuban world chess
champion, Jose Raul Capablanca, would often stroll the streets of New
Orleans staring fixedly at women or shouting, cryptically, from his house
veranda that he would plant the banner of Castile on the walls of Madrid.
When he lost to Seigbert Tarrasch in 1914, it was rumoured that had sprung
to the chessboard from the bed of a Russian grand duke’s mistress (mate in
one knight.) Another world champion, Austrian Wilhelm Steinitz, believed
he was in electrical communication with God, and challenged Him to a game,
giving Him pawn and move. The match, if it took place, was never recorded.
The
Russian world champion, hatchet-faced, blond giant, Alexander Alekhine,
when playing, would work his ears into indescribable shapes to frighten
opponents, would shift uneasily as if sitting on an anthill and when he
lost a game, would hurl his king across the room and sometimes smash
furniture.
Although some chess champs have acted socially as if
they were two pawns short of a Sicilian defence, most, are, I believe,
like the majority of chess players, mature, self-assured, well-mannered
and, of course, utterly ruthless and, with a tendency to say "mate" in a
voice, that to opponents would never fail to sound, smug, triumphant,
boastful and malicious.
Chess is the pulse-racing, mind-stretching
equivalent of a sword duel, with thrusts and parries, sometimes
rapier-darting, sometimes sabre-like slashing. It can lead to many
surprises like one I had on a cruise ship. When playing against my-self on
deck, a lad of about ten summers asked for a game. Loftily - one should
encourage the young - I agreed and after two hours’ mind-grinding play, I
lost. He was, I discovered, an English state primary school’s chess
champion.
I hope Mr Clarke’s opening will receive an
appropriate re-ply to widen the knowledge of the game in Scotland’s
schools. A veteran imperial chessman says to the Scottish Executive: "Your
move." |
