Queens Gambit

Lessons from a master to occupy my young mind

I loved the Netflix series The Queen’s Gambit. I loved it as much for the story, as I did for the chess, which replicated real games. I loved watching Beth looking up at the ceiling as she visualised the next 5 or 10 moves and variations. I loved how the series brought chess back into popularity, even if only for a year or two.

If you loved it, you will be pleased to know that Series Two is coming out soon. What a shame there are no chess manufacturers on the US stock exchange.

In 1968, times were tough for little me. As I wrote in Life is Simple When You’re Five, they weren’t so simple when I was nine and ten, when I first started contemplating leaving home.

It wasn’t all bad. There were wonderful people who took me in for weeks at a time, such as radio DJ Peter Hill. Then there were the Sylvans.

My parents knew them from Temple Shalom in Newmarket. They were American and had two children of similar ages to me, and an amazing huge American V8. I think it was a Cadillac Sedan De Ville. It had huge fins and was of course a left-hand drive.

Bernie would come and pick me up at the start of the school holidays, taking me back to their distant home, which if I remember correctly was in Birkenhead, which seemed like miles from Titirangi back then.

Bernie had a fake steering wheel attached on the right-hand side of the car for his son and daughter. I could pretend I was driving, and give people a casual wave as they stared at me in disbelief, while we drove past. Something I would one day do with my granddaughter in my Corvette.

This was the time when Richard Harris had a hit with Jimmy Webb’s McArthur Park, a song I loved for the chord sequences and the drama. I didn’t know it was about Webb’s breakup with Susan Ronstadt, and one of many songs he wrote about her. Nor did I know that I would one day get to meet and thank the Tunesmith for his wonderful songwriting, and composing which influenced mine, even though it took me years to realise it. Let’s just say it struck a chord.

I had some good times with the Sylvans and will be forever grateful to them for taking me in when I needed respite. They were a happy family and I enjoyed their company. I also enjoyed learning how to play chess from Bernie, who was a Chess Master.

My father taught me how to play chess, at least in a rudimentary fashion. He taught me to think a few moves ahead but didn’t go into any depth. Bernie taught me more. We spent many hours over the chess table and while I could never beat him, once in a blue moon, with a bit of coaching, I could get to a draw.

He also gave me books to allow me to learn how the masters played.

The Queen’s Gambit was a classic example of one of the strongest modes of the opening attack, designed to allow White to gain control of Black’s squares K4 and Q5 early in the match. There are many variations and I learned ways to play it from both sides of the board. It was a great way to escape my circumstances as a kid. All I needed was my chess books and my chess set.

As a consequence, I found myself more often being able to beat my father, who said in his autobiography that his IQ was 165. Perhaps he underestimated me, but the games that started off taking less than an hour became prolonged battles.

I didn’t take up chess as a sport, but did enjoy some exciting games with friends at school and later over the years. My father stopped playing against me when I was 11.

I guess in the aspect of hating to lose, we were alike.

I’m looking forward to Series Two of the Queen’s Gambit. How about you?