Chess.

I think I have a lot of the skills necessary in order to be good at Chess. I’m fairly smart, especially at analyzing things. That’s what I do for my job, and I think I'm good enough at it. Maybe not the best in the world, but I'm okay.

However, I’m really bad at Chess. The only people I can ever beat are my siblings, and that was like five years ago. (I’m talking to you, Connor.) Basically – if you’re good enough to want to accept my offer to play chess with you, you will beat me.

The other day Torrie had a meeting in our house, so I was banished to the bedroom. After reading for awhile, I decided to play some chess. I turned on the computer and promptly lost to a Level 3 computer opponent.

So what’s my deal? There are two major obstacles to my professional chess career.

1. Lack of Patience

Chess isn’t the most exciting sport. In fact, it’s kinda boring. Have you ever watched two other people play an actual chess game? The answer is yes, probably one – the epic battle between Screech and in an episode of Saved by the Bell. Eventually, at some point in the game, I’ll hit a point where I’ll have the following conversation in my head:

That looks like a good move. But wait, I should plan out my next move after that. What if it’s really a bad move and he could kill me? Hmm…well, that piece over there couldn’t kill me…neither could that one…well, I’ll just move it. I can always just click undo if it was a bad one.

And you know what? It usually ends up being a bad move. His Queen will take my Rook and I’ll have to click the Undo button. It’s a dumb mistake. If I took longer and thought it out more, I could easily catch those silly moves. But I don’t, so I don’t. A lack of patience dooms my chess abilities.

Another part of patience: Good chess involves looking ahead two or three moves. You need to have a long-term strategy to win any game. I don’t even know what a long-term strategy would be in chess! I end up being all react, react, react. Oh sometimes I’ll see an opportunity to tag team between two pieces and take out one of the opponent’s pieces, but it’s pretty much seat of the pants, oh that looks like a good move, I’ll try that. Not a good recipe for success. What I need to do is slow down. Maybe read some books on chess strategies. Practice. But let’s be honest – that’s probably not going to happen.

2. I feel bad

Here’s the other thing about chess. It’s hard to see that there’s any luck involved. There’s no rolling of dice. There’s no card that comes up. It’s all intelligence. If Torrie beats me at Parcheesi (which she does frequently) then I can console myself with the reasoning that, although I may have had a better strategy, it was just the luck of the dice. My epic game of Yahtzee, mentioned in the previous post? Luck. Skill is not involved with rolling four yahtzees. Even a large strategy game like Risk is somewhat dependent on the roll of the dice. While strategy might lead you to win a majority of your games, if you keep rolling the dice and landing on Boardwalk with a hotel on it, you will lose.

Not so with Chess. If you beat the other person, you are smarter than them. That’s just the way it works. That definitely raises the stakes of the game. Either I can’t handle the pressure, or I feel bad for the person that I may beat, so I don’t play to my full potential. I’m going to opt for the latter. (I know this argument really doesn’t count if I’m playing against the computer.)

So now that everyone knows my weaknesses…anyone want to play some chess?

Torrie and Yahtzee

A couple examples of why my wife, Torrie, is so great:

We were playing Yahtzee last Sunday evening with some good friends in our ward. Real Yahtzee, with five real dice. It was actually quite fun. Early into the game, I rolled - on my first roll - a full house. I was about to write down a quick 25 points for myself, when Torrie nudged me.

"Go for the Yahtzee! Why not?"

Why not? So I did. Two rolls later, five "3"'s were staring up at me. YAHTZEE!!!

I had a Yahtzee on either my first roll of the game. I was feeling pretty good about getting it that early.

A few turns later, however, I managed it again. YAHTZEE!!

Two Yahtzees. Who gets that many??

Another few turns later, I found myself with 4 "4"'s and one roll remaining. I shook the remaining die, then brought my hand up near Torrie. "Give me some luck, Torrie!!!" She responded by pretending to spit into my hand. At that moment, I knew that I would be getting a Yahtzee. And sure enough, I rolled another 4. YAHTZEE!!

Or how about the roll a few turns later? I had two "6"'s and one roll left. I needed one more six to make the requisite three sixes in order to get the bonus. And wouldn't you know it, I rolled 3 "6"s on my last roll. YAHTZEE!!!

Four Yahtzees in one game. Over 600 points. All thanks to Torrie, who encouraged me to go for the Yahtzee on that first roll. Thanks, Torrie!!!

La Macchina in Italia

One of the first things I noticed while living in Italy was the difference in cars. (Since I spent a lot of my time walking or using mass transit, I noticed a lot of cars.) Cars in Italy are smaller – there are practically no SUVs or trucks. They are also much boxier. And European. (I know. Duh.)

I saw nice motorcycles. In Italy, the King of the Motorcycles was the Ducati. I got to the point where I could tell from the engine sound that a Ducati was on its way, and that I should probably dive for cover. I was never interested in motorcycles before the mission, and I’m really not into them now – but for those two years in Italy….I knew the sound of a Ducati.

I saw a lot of European sports cars. BMWs and Mercedes were more than common sights. A Porsche was an everyday occurrence. My personal sentimental favorite became anything Alfa Romeo. However, there were really three nice brands that were always special to see:

Maserati – I have a special place in my heart for the Maserati. Smooth, really nice, and just classy. My view is that if you see someone driving a Maserati

Lamborghini – I saw only two of these. Wow. That’s all I have to say.

Ferrari – The best. While less rare than the Lamborghini, there is just something uniquely Italian about these cars. Two quick Ferrari stories. I was talking to my dad on Mothers’ Day 2005 outside St. Peter’s Square when I heard the unmistakable sound of a Ferrari speeding past. I said to my dad, “hey, do you hear that noise? It’s an accelerating Ferrari.” We then just went quiet and appreciated the beauty.

Second story: I was walking in the hills between Florence and Fiesole in an attempt to find a local member of the church’s house. We had just descended from the bus and were walking on the shoulder uphill to the next cross-street. I then began to hear the typical Ferrari rumble and quickly jumped off the road just in time to see the red blur of a Ferrari speed past. Of all the ways to go, I think being hit by a zooming Ferrari in the Tuscan hills while on an LDS mission would have to be a pretty cool way to die.

Let me finish this blog entry with one more quick story. I had been in Italy about a year, fully immersed in the Italian automobile world, when one day I saw the most beautiful sight: A candy apple red Chevrolet Corvette. Some rich guy in Rome had spent his money bringing an American sports car over the Atlantic to Italy. I spent twenty minutes on the 90 Express autobus on the Via Nomentana in Rome watching that beautiful testament to American ingenuity battle traffic with a crowd of perhaps ten others, all of us in amazement. What a pretty, pretty car. It was a moment I remember every time a shiny Corvette passes by, such as this afternoon on the main street of the little town in Kentucky where I currently am.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get in my boring Honda Civic and enjoy the good gas mileage as I drive home. Sigh.