Ego in Chess
I've always been a very competitive person, and accordingly I love winning while loathing losing. To that end, I have usually had something relatively adrenaline-filled to fulfill my need for competition, be it fencing, esports or poker over the years. But in the last few months, I haven't been doing much of any of those things, which temporarily created a bit of a hole in my life.
I have played chess pretty seriously for over a decade now. I still enjoy winning at chess, but I don't have quite the same thirst for it I do in other arenas - there is so much inherent beauty in the game that I can still enjoy a match which ended in a draw or even a loss. Chess has never been ego-fuel; I've never fist pumped after an overwhelming sacrifice or roared in celebration upon delivering a brutal checkmate.
However... For the most part I have liked everyone that has played in the chess league with me. They are by and large kind and intelligent people, and I have had no problems with them. This season though, there is a new player in my division, who has just moved to the island. I don't want to speak too ill of him for the sake of it, but... I do not like this man. He is rude and arrogant.
We played in the summer (less serious) version of our league and we drew - he actually gifted it to me really, he ought to have won. I was pretty annoyed about it afterwards. He was my first opponent for the winter (more serious) league a couple of weeks ago. Usually when I am mentally preparing to play chess, all I am aiming for is to play a good game, one where I don't make any stupid mistakes, hopefully some interesting positions which will be enjoyable to analyse. I try to avoid having any expectations about the outcome. This was different though - I wanted to win, really badly. I wanted to crush him, as if he was one of my old fencing partners (I was always desperate to be the best when I fenced at school - I was a comically bad loser) or a fish that had just stacked me after they got it in awfully OTF in PLO.
Before our match he did not do a good job of dissuading me that he deserved to not be annihilated. He made a rude and unfunny joke to one of the other players who was clearly exceptionally stressed. He was very ill, and told me he would've re-arranged, but because he would've given me less than 24 hours notice, he didn't - he "wouldn't do that to me". Well thank you buddy - you're really a hero for sitting opposite me so blatantly full of a virus that not only did you make playing you an unpleasant experience, I dread to think what manner of airborne diseases I contracted off you. But thanks for 'not doing that to me' and still showing up - you're a real hero!
And... I did it. I crushed him. Sure he was ill, but even so - it was embarrassing. The game was over in just 18 moves, his position had already been decimated. He showed a clear lack of understanding of the opening and I punished him for it. I don't want to brag too much (I already think writing a blog post about how great one of my own chess games was is a pretty deplorable act), but he didn't even play that badly - he essentially made 3 inaccuracies and according to the computer, I managed to play near-perfect for those 18 moves. It might be my favourite game that I've played to date, and it felt really, really good to win.
Tonight I am playing an entirely different player, a late middle-aged accountant and veteran of the club. He is always sweet and lovely to me and I have nothing bad to say about him whatsoever.
But I am going to beat him so badly he regrets ever learning the rules of the game.