Brilliance in madness (part 2)

A momentary awkward silence befell Sai and I, neither of us certain if we should break it first. After a heavy few seconds, I decided it would be me.

“I… really hope she’s not taking it too hard. Not having anyone watch is one thing, but that message was just kinda rude.”

“I’m surprised to hear the patron saint of rude remarks say as such, but I must agree. It was a needless comment to make, especially when practically unprompted.”

“Guess that’s to be expected from the internet. Everyone can say whatever they please when they don’t have to worry about being punched in the face for it.” I turned my attention back to the chessboard, which we had both been neglecting for a little while now. “Well, it’s not like there’s much point worrying now, may as well just finish this game.”

“The game thFt has already been made an utter mess by your nonsensical moves?”

“Hey, I was kinda distracted, okay? And it’s not like you didn’t make some pretty bad ones yourself, thank you very much. What was up with that f-pawn throw? Didn’t seem like a theory move to me.”

“Geh- I… suppose I let my concentration slip a tad too. Still, the game is hardly unsalvageable.”

“Oh, so when it’s my fault it’s ‘an utter mess’ but when the attention is turned to you it’s ‘salvageable.”

“Of course. As someone who excels at throwing matches and confusing chess engines it should be obvious that your faults are greater than mine.”

“And yet you’ve only ever beat me once. And it was because of an underhanded trick.”

“Yes, I suppose it’s true, you do hold quite the undefeated streak against me. Though with each move it seems more and more as if that streak is ready to end, do you not agree?”

As much as I wanted to deny it, she had a point. We were towards the end of the midgame, beginning to transition to endgame, and it was clear that I was at a disadvantage. I had finally managed to get the e5 pawn to d4, giving me the only surviving centre pawn with a defending bishop nestled in with the king, but I was two pawns down on the queenside flank and had lost practically all momentum. Unless I found a genius sacrifice somewhere there was probably no way for me to claw it back. At best I could force a draw, though that’s hardly my style.

My only surviving minor pieces were the bishop pair, but only the light squared bishop was active. Sai had a light square bishop and a knight, both of which were on active squares. Our rook mobility was similar, primarily acting as anchors and claiming the open files. With each passing move, it was clear what Sai was trying to do: whittle down the pieces and pawns one by one with trades until that two-pawn advantage was an insurmountable hurdle.

I looked around for any line that could keep the game interesting, and found just one idea that I thought had potential. The d4 pawn was backed up by both my rook and dark-square bishop, but promotion would be impossible for as long as there were two rooks and a king along the back rank. The only possible idea I had was to advance the pawn to get the dark squared bishop to c3, then pushing the pawn to c2 to leave a constant dangling threat against his rooks.

Threatening c1 with my bishop seemed like a good idea on paper, but with both a rook and knight active she would easily nullify that threat, and my overcommitment to it would probably open me up for a counterattack. What I hoped for instead was to sacrifice the bishop for the pawn on g2 which was defending the king. Taking the pawn with the king would remove it from the back line and lose it’s one defending pawn with no other replacement defender, while lofting a rook and taking on the next turn would remove one rook from the backrank making the pawn on d2 a far more significant risk since promotion would be more viable. Either way would win tempo and mount the pressure. Sai was good under pressure, but everyone had a breaking point

Looking over my options, it was pretty much the only chance I had to win. Throwing the last bit of caution I had to the wind, I made the pawn move.

The plan, however, fell apart quickly. I set up my bishop defender and got my pawn to d2, but every attempt I made to attack the g2 pawn with my light square bishop was denied. She would defend with her bishop, I would attempt to kick the bishop, then she would defend with knight instead. It became a game of cat and mouse where the mice were also slowly threatening to eat all of my pawns.

Playing the lines out in my head, I realised there was simply no way to pull off my plan. And worse, she had won enough tempo to begin advancing her own flank pawns. It was no longer feasible to bring this game back.

“...alright, you got me. I resign.” I laid down my king and sat back in my chair with a huff. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d even consider the bishop sacrifice a threat. By all accounts, it was a bad move.”

“I fully agree, it would have been reckless and stupid. But you have played reckless and stupid moves against me before in a way I was utterly unable to counter. As much as I hate to admit it, there’s a brilliance to your madness.”

“Oh? Is that a rare Sai compliment? Been a while since I’ve heard of one of those.”

“Mistake me not, your style of play still frustrates me to no end. But I’m not so petty as to refuse to acknowledge that you have a mind sharp enough to wield that style.”

“Does my disregard for theory really bother you that much?”

“I confess that it does. Until I met you, I felt confident and safe with the way I saw chess. There were rules and principles one must follow to success, and a failure to follow those principles would be punished. With that mindset, I crushed every opponent I faced at my prior school. But you… you refuse those principles outright, and yet you routinely prove yourself a competent player. You make moves that you and I both see as suboptimal, and yet you find success with them anyways. You throw a spanner in the works of my ideals, and your presence causes them to fall apart before me. The graviton of my standard model, so to speak.”

“That’s because your ideals have one glaring flaw.”

“That being?”

“You’re not a grandmaster or a computer. You can follow the principles of theory all you want, but if you don’t have the creativity and adaptability to know when to see past those principles you’ll always fall short. I said it before, didn’t I? Theory is a guidebook, not a rule book.”

“And I concede, your point is fair. But your manner of play, it straddles the line between creativity and lunacy. You make moves that are nonsensical, ridiculous by any standard, and attempt to fix your own mistake further down the line. You and I may both play suboptimally, but I can at least claim in good faith that my mistakes are the result of human imperfection and not flagrant disregard for strategy.”

“That just means you play without any freedom or expression. Like using a metronome as a bass player. Theoretically optimal? Sure. But bland. Uninteresting. Unoriginal.”

“You cling to chaos and call it freedom.”

“You cling to structure and call it strength.”

“You rely on your opponents weaknesses rather than your own strengths.”

“Is identifying weaknesses not itself a strength?”

“In a sense, but making deliberate mistakes and hoping your opponent doesn’t know how to capitalise can hardly be called a strength. A reckless gamble at best.”

“What is chess if not a series of calculated gambles?”

“My problem is with your calculations, not your gambles. I whittle down my options to leave the smallest margin for error possible. You broaden your options to widen the margin for error for both yourself and your opponent.”

“If I know how to play within a wide margin for error and my opponent doesn’t, is that not a completely fair and valid style?”

“Fair and valid? Perhaps. But my distaste doesn’t come from fairness or validity. I simply detest the chaos you throw into an otherwise orderly system.”

“It sounds like you cling to the order of chess theory to distract yourself from the disorder of the real world.”

“Just as you seek freedom in the randomness of non-theoretical chess to escape the mundanity of your life.”

“Well at least we find one thing we have in common. Complete inadequacy and discontent in real life.”

“And a disdain for the society that forces those standards upon us.”

“I think this might be the first time one of our arguments has ended in agreement.”

“It would seem so. Though I do not retract my earlier expression of disdain and irritation.”

“Hey, if we add ‘mutual animosity’ that brings us up to three whole things we agree on. If events this rare keep happening, we should try the casino next, put all our money on green.”

“Suggesting a reckless and foolish gamble without a second thought. How hilariously on brand.”

Though her statement was laced with sarcasm, I could swear I saw the smallest hint of a smile behind those rolling eyes.

Not that I needed such a direct cue anyway. It was as Sai had said two days before: whether I had realised it or not, she and I had at some point become friends. Whatever legitimate hate we may have once had for each other was no longer there.

There was a surprisingly comfortable silence that followed, both of us having said our piece, content to let the conversation die while we reset the board. In fact, the silence wasn’t broken at all until the door creaked open, signalling the re-entry of Pep.

“Sorry to keep you guys waiting! I stopped by the bathroom on the way back,” she said, seemingly back to her chipper self. Her face looked dry, so I doubted she had been crying, though I couldn’t say my concern was assuaged.

“No worries, Pep. Though our club time is pretty much drawing to an end anyway, wanna walk home together in a minute?” I asked, hoping my voice stayed steady enough to not show I was still worried.

“Kaykay! Be with you in a sec, just gotta shut down the compu...” Pep trailed off as she reached the monitor.

“Pep?”

“Huh? Ah! Sorry, just gotta… there we go, all done. You guys ready to get going?” She said, immediately returning to her usual self.”

“…uh, yeah I think so,” I said, and Sai gave a cursory nod to follow. “There something wrong?”

“Nope, just something I forgot to do on the PC, nothing important. C’mon, let’s not keep our families waiting, right?”

Pep clicked the power button on the monitor and hastily stepped out of the clubroom door, leaving Sai and I to confusedly follow behind. Whatever it was she forgot to do, it seemed I wasn’t gonna learn today.