Paint it pink

I am a refurbished chess player.

By Luiz Franz

I am a refurbished chess player. I was built with old pieces that they polished, lubricated and made very bright. But I just don’t work right, these pieces don’t connect properly, a 1979 transistor wants me to castle, a 1998 chip insist I should play h3.

My refurbished fianchetto is a calamity, part of me want it in the Queen side, part push me to the King side. My gambits are a disaster, my opponents take the pawn I offer and go ahead, swallowing Knights and Bishops. And my circuits discuss and argue – one want the pawn up, the other one prefers the B on f4.

I am a refurbished chess player. I try to play old Capablanca games, all I get is my opponent laughing while he sets his Legal mate. My refurbished pawns are crazy: some try to move in a diagonal without taking an opponent’s piece, some go backwards, some try to become a Queen in the 6th rank. And my G file pawn loves to quit from being white and suddenly become black when he feels the game is lost. My chameleon G pawn is always a winner.

Never trust in refurbished Rooks. My Rooks tend to kiss the hand of the opponent’s Queen and refuse to castle. Once my King side Rook just left the chessboard – a strike demanding more space in the opening, she (she? Is a Rook a she?) said. And refurbished Knights are a danger for your sanity: the Queen side one spends all his time quoting Shakespeare (remember that My Kingdom for a Horse stuff), the other one prefer quoting Alekhine and Lasker in order to show my moves are pathetic.

I am a refurbished chess player. My circuits want me to order a pizza, my chips look for an old Seinfeld chapter, my Queen want to be a Top Model and party with Paris Hilton, my King is against monarchy and practices to be a billiards pro.

And I just go ahead, using my refurbished ideas in countless games, countless losses. My pieces, imported from other times and places, just watch it painting red their finger nails and asking me: “Don’t you think pink would be better?” Yes, I admit. And resign once more.