After once again destroying my chances to advance in the annual club championship (note to self: do not move rook to where it can be pinned to queen by enemy bishop), I made a bathroom pit stop before heading home.
As I stood at the sink washing my rating points down the drain, Little Mr. Grown Up came in. I had had a few brief exchanges earlier with this young man in the side room, and had been impressed by his maturity. He was polite and straightforward, and not shy with adults whom he hadn't previously met. At least he'd never met me previously. I soon learned how sophisticated Little Mr. Grown Up was. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "So, what's your rating?"
Him: "What's your rating?"
(Little Mr. Grown Up plays his cards close to his chest.)
Me: "1700-something."
Him: "Mine is 1600-something. What was your opponent's rating?"
(Little Mr. Grown Up knew I had lost my game, and inquires what rating of player can take me down.)
Me: "1500-something. How long have you been playing?"
Him: "4 years. How long have you been playing?"
Me, after briefly reminiscing mentally about long-gone glory days: "About 20 years."
(interlude, while we take care of our respective business)
Him, as he's leaving: "Are you on your way up?"
(What an interesting, unexpected question from this young man!)
Me, with a wry smile borne of self-awareness of weakening chess powers: "No, I'm on my way down."
Little Mr. Grown Up, thank you for a highly entertaining, if brief, conversation. It was an amusing end to a chess-wise disappointing evening. I must tell you now that I was incorrect in what I said. I am not on my way down. I just received my latest rating, and I have (again) hit my floor of 1700, so it's only up from here!
As I stood at the sink washing my rating points down the drain, Little Mr. Grown Up came in. I had had a few brief exchanges earlier with this young man in the side room, and had been impressed by his maturity. He was polite and straightforward, and not shy with adults whom he hadn't previously met. At least he'd never met me previously. I soon learned how sophisticated Little Mr. Grown Up was. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "So, what's your rating?"
Him: "What's your rating?"
(Little Mr. Grown Up plays his cards close to his chest.)
Me: "1700-something."
Him: "Mine is 1600-something. What was your opponent's rating?"
(Little Mr. Grown Up knew I had lost my game, and inquires what rating of player can take me down.)
Me: "1500-something. How long have you been playing?"
Him: "4 years. How long have you been playing?"
Me, after briefly reminiscing mentally about long-gone glory days: "About 20 years."
(interlude, while we take care of our respective business)
Him, as he's leaving: "Are you on your way up?"
(What an interesting, unexpected question from this young man!)
Me, with a wry smile borne of self-awareness of weakening chess powers: "No, I'm on my way down."
Little Mr. Grown Up, thank you for a highly entertaining, if brief, conversation. It was an amusing end to a chess-wise disappointing evening. I must tell you now that I was incorrect in what I said. I am not on my way down. I just received my latest rating, and I have (again) hit my floor of 1700, so it's only up from here!
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