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Chess Fiction Gambit de la Esposa "Yes, I'm still playing chess, and no, I don't know
when I'm coming to bed." You can call me Carlos, Pablo, Fernandez, or Smith… it doesn’t matter. But we can’t call me by my real name. Why? Because if my wife found out that I was exposing her gambit to the world she would retaliate. Chess books would disappear. Chess sets would find themselves migrating from my game room to the local Goodwill Store or perhaps to some stranger’s garage sale. So, yes, it is important that we keep my identity a secret. So, what is this Gambit de la Esposa? You can try looking it up in Modern Chess Openings, or in any other opening book… but I assure you, it will not be there. Yet, if you play chess and if you are married you’ve likely played against one of the gambit’s many lines. What I want to know is this? Is there a way to win against it? With best play I think the first player can only hope to reach a draw. But what do other players think? Has anyone ever won against it? Let me present my short game below for analysis. It is only twenty moves. Where did I go wrong? Or did I play the best line? I move first. And I shall refer to myself as Carlos. My wife… she was my opponent, of course, let us refer to her as Esposa which is Spanish for wife and is where the gambit gets its name. That is, Gambit de la Esposa means Gambit of the Wife. Now, as you will soon see, if you haven’t already concluded, we are not talking about moves on the eight by eight chess board. We are talking about moves on the much bigger board used in the game of life. Before presenting the game, I should mention that I lost to this gambit last year. And I really wasn’t expecting to see it this year. Now for the game: Carlos vs.
Esposa 1. [Carlos] I move towards the side door and step out of the house and into the driveway. This Side Door Opening is currently very popular. Note that the way my wife plays her defense, had I played the Front Door Opening we would likely reach the same position by transposition. Going out the window or through a wall would be one of those unorthodox openings. …1. [Esposa] My wife is already outside and blocks me on the way to my car. She states, “I am making your favorite omelets for lunch.” This is a shocker! She knows I am heading for the Ninth Annual Lake Edge Beach Invitational Chess Tournament. She knows that I’ve been waiting patiently for a year. She insisted that I not play last year. Yes, last year I had prepared for eight months and I was in excellent form. But then at the last minute she said, “We are celebrating your son’s birthday today. So, you cannot play. But you have next year.” Last year I tried to get her to move the birthday celebration one day forward or backward… she would not budge. “You have next year,” she said. “So what is the big deal?” I had replied that it was the one day of the year I wanted for me. Just that one day. Lord knows that she goes on week-long summer camps with Girl Scouts, goes to candle parties with her lady friends, goes to church events. I just want the first Monday in September. That’s all. One day. 2. [Carlos]. So, while in shock I played my second move. It was a simple statement of truth. Truth is usually best to play. Some players use lies… but in such games positions can break down very fast. “Well, I won’t be able to have the omelet. I’ll be at the tournament.” This is a solid line that should quickly end this game 1-0. …2. [Esposa]. “Oh? You still plan on going to that?” Her move, a question, directly challenges mine and adds a great deal of pressure to the center. 3. [Carlos]. “Yes.” I play this quickly. It is nice developing move. Get all the truth out on the board early in the game. It should be noted that my wife’s second move is a good one. It avoids the fools’ mate I was hoping for. And I only have four decent replies. She is likely prepared for each. I can play yes, no, maybe, or silent treatment. Silent treatment is often played by amateurs, and I try to avoid it. Yet I have both played it and have had it played against me. Silent treatment is always an ugly move. … 3. [Esposa]. She counters with an emotional tactic. “The girls and I are going to go watch the monarch butterflies. It is a nice morning to do that. And, it is the only morning to catch them in their migratory path. I know the girls look forward to you coming with us.” 4. [Carlos]. Ouch! A sharp move! But, I stay the course and counter with, “Yes, that would be nice. It is just unfortunate that the butterflies decided end their rest on the day of the tournament.” And I now gain several more steps to the car. …4. [Esposa]. “There is another thing. I am moving our son’s birthday celebration from tomorrow to today. It is for his twentieth birthday. So you will need to cancel your trip to the tournament.” I had not seen this move! I completely over looked it. It was a crusher! This was very close to how I lost last year. Was there a way out? This appeared to be a position in which anyone would understand my resigning. But, I did not resign. 5. [Carlos]. “His birthday celebration was to be tomorrow.” This was a fact. By playing it now I justify my earlier moves and give her a chance to reschedule. The position is delicate. One wrong move can be fatal to either side. …5. [Esposa]. “He wants to go to a concert tomorrow. So, I told him we could celebrate his birthday today instead. You can always go to the tournament next year.” 6. [Carlos]. A strong move. I need to counter… but how? I found this: “You knew I planned on going to the tournament this year. And last year you said I could go this year.” …6. [Esposa]. “Yes. But things happen. Your family must always come first.” 7. [Carlos]. “You knew about this.” Not much of a move in this position. But what could I do? As I was thinking about the position, she threw in her next move. She likely memorized the moves up to this point… actually, it seems that even her eighth move may have even been planned in advance. …7. [Esposa]. “You don’t know for certain that they are having the tournament. After all, one of the sponsors passed away several months ago. You could be wasting a trip. Wasting a forty mile drive there and a forty mile drive back. It is a risk. And it costs you gas money and it costs you a beautiful morning with your daughters.” I see I am at move eight. Did I go wrong in the opening? Is my position worth saving? 8. [Carlos]. “They have this tournament every year. It will be there.” Of course, I could not know for sure. After all, they never advertised the event. But the three [now two] organizers were very dependable. Their event was there year after year on the first Monday of every September. There was one year when the skies let loose with heavy winds, rains, thunder and lightning. The organizers did not show up that day… though some players actually did. Anyway, this was a nice day… weather wise, that is. …8. [Esposa]. “Even if they do have it, there is the Master Klagi factor. You don’t want to run into Master Klagi do you? Do you want him to come up to you and talk to you and invite himself over and start visiting again?” Master Klagi (not his real name, of course) is a large man, about six-feet-two and weighing in at about three-hundred and fifty pounds. He used to visit us a lot. Klagi manages a land-fill and is a low-level master at chess and an avid collector of super-hero type comic books. During work he sits in a wooden shack at the entrance to the landfill. He has a few dirty chess boards set up… each with flies buzzing around. They often land on the boards and pieces, making his chess setups looking like little garbage dumps. Though a Master at chess, Klagi, not surprisingly, is rated Class D or lower when it comes to personal hygiene and social etiquette. He smells bad, sweats a lot, has vulgar speech, picks his teeth and wipes what he finds on furniture, makes messes in the bathrooms, and so forth. He often scratches through the un-kempt mass of gray hair. And sometimes you just get the feeling that there are a lot of things moving around in that scalp, and that some of them fall into your chairs, couches, and carpeting. Klagi keeps a bowie knife under the driver seat of his car. He often waves it around and says things like, “Ya never know when you’re gonna have to defend yourself. There are a lot of crazies out there. That’s why me and Mr. Bowie are real good friends.” You certainly don’t want Mater Klagi inside your home. My wife’s mentioning of Master Klagi as a move, looks very strong. But it isn’t. Oh, true, many weaker players would have resigned here… even Class A players are likely to get ill at the board and throw in the towel… but I knew this tactic. So on move nine I played the known counter. 9. [Carlos]. “Even if Master Klagi shows up, it doesn’t mean he’ll invite himself over. Those days appear to be over. If need be, I will discourage him from visiting.” That last line was essential. Without it, my move is weak. …9. [Esposa]. “Let me spell it out to you: butterflies with the daughters, delicious omelet lunch with the family, chance of the tournament not being there, chance of Master Klagi leeching on to you and restarting his visits, and most important, I’m having your son’s twentieth birthday celebrated today. So, are you going or staying?” A very bold move! And it looks final. My wife is certainly playing a tough game. Surprisingly I see a way to get a few more moves in. 10. [Carlos]. “I’m going to the bookstore before I go to the tournament. I’ll think about it on the way there. I’ll decide before I leave the bookstore. If I do go to the tournament, I’ll go straight from there.” That was a great move. Many would not have found it. …10. [Espsoa]. “When you get back we’ll probably be at the butterfly migration point.” That last move of hers was overly confident. But it does deserve attention… for it sets up an image of the wife and daughters in natural surroundings with blue skies, sunshine, and thousands of monarch butterflies. It is a move that can generate guilt for the other player. 11. [Carlos]. I get into the car and leave. This is the natural follow-up to my previous. It is a good move… no, it is a great move! I think it deserves an exclamation point! Maybe two!! It keeps all the options open. It gives me a lot of time to analyze the position. The best thing about this move is that it gives me complete control of the board and at the same time removes all immediate threats. …11. [Esposa]. The wife takes the daughters and goes to a point about three miles from the house. They arrive too late to see the mass migration of monarch butterflies. And instead of seeing thousands they only see a few stragglers that perhaps aren’t up to making the trip. The vast majority of monarchs have already continued southwest on their long journey to Mexico. 12. [Carlos]. On this move I get to the bookstore, purchase two books, get back in the car and contemplate my next move. …12. [Esposa]. The wife makes a waiting move. What else can she do? All play has shifted to the fist player. 13. [Carlos]. Still, for as good as my game looks, I am in emotional turmoil. But, after much anguish, I head west, toward the tournament. …13. [Esposa]. Another waiting move. The wife can only wonder whether her earlier tactics will bear fruit. She realizes now that move ten was a mistake… that it did nothing to help her game and in fact, that move handed the initiative over to me. 14. [Carlos]. Despite her week tenth move, the wife’s position is still solid. In fact, her ninth move was so powerful that I am hit by waves of guilt from several directions. I can’t seem to block them or step out of their way. I am in agony. I get off at the next intersection and head for home. The wife is winning at this point. …14. [Esposa]. Still another waiting move. She fears she will lose the game. She has no idea that she is actually winning now. 15. [Carlos]. While heading home I cannot help but to think of how I was cheated out of my one day of the year last year and how I am about to be cheated out of another day. I decide that my wife’s scheduling efforts are not logical and are made to spite me. I realize that if I go home I will feel terrible about getting cheated out of the tournament for a second year…. Possibly a third and fourth year too! I turn the car around and head back west… towards the tournament. …15. [Esposa]. Another waiting move. It looks like the game is over… but is it? And if so, who wins? She sets plates on the kitchen table. No plate is set for me. 16. [Carlos]. I get to the tournament. It is a beautiful sunny morning. Waves are rolling in from the lake; gulls are soaring about. People are playing chess on picnic tables beneath the shade of an open-air pavilion and Master Klagi is no where in sight. I chat with a four-time U.S. Chess Champion and also with an International Master from Kazakhstan. I meet and chat with several others who I’ve not seen in a long time. I have a grilled hamburger and a cold soft drink. I sit down for round one and using an O’Kelly Sicilian, as Black I crush my opponent in twenty one moves. I have some cold mineral water and a bag of chips. Then I sit for round two. We see a Grand Prix Attack. After 1.e4 c5 2. f4 as White, I crush my opponent in nineteen moves. After the game I try to relax with a cold cola. Still, I am plagued by guilt and so I decide to leave. However, friends talk me into staying. You have won two games, they say. You are having a good time with friends you seldom see. Stay. And so, I do stay. In round three I go up a rook and pawn for a knight against a much stronger opponent, a charismatic artist who is perhaps, as much of an artist on the chessboard as he is on the canvas… he paints a trap for me and though it was easy to avoid, I fall into it and resign on the spot. I have a hotdog and some more mineral water. Another Grand Prix Attack and I win round four in whirl-wind fashion. I have a shot at winning money. Round five - ah, not good. For some reason I misplay my O’Kelly Sicilian. I am sluggish with my Black pieces. Poor development. It leads to positional chaos. I set up a mate-in-one… but, it is not forced. My opponent has to miss it. He doesn’t. I lose and I congratulate the man on a well-played game. He will move on to take second place. Round six… the final round. I play my third Grand Prix Attack for the day. My opponent has four wins under his belt… I only have three. I remembered playing this man two years ago and losing. This game we have this evening is a hard fight…and we are the last to finish our game…. it ends with opposite color bishops and a draw. It is 8:30 p.m. and the organizers give us free chess sets as departing gifts. I say my goodbyes and begin my forty mile migration. About ten hours have transpired since I left home. That was at move fifteen in this particular game of life. I was away from the board, the life-board, when my wife made her sixteenth move. …16. [Esposa]. The wife has the omelet lunch. Later she has the birthday dinner with our four kids and the girlfriend of the soon-to-be twenty year old. After dinner she serves lemon merange pie and gives presents to my oldest son. 17. [Carlos]. I get home. I am wondering how the game with the wife will conclude. I am wondering what her next move will be and whether or not I will be able to make a move. …17. [Esposa]. “There are cold leftovers in the refrigerator. Did you stop at the bookstore before you went to the tournament? Did you win any money?” It is a good move on her part. The cold leftovers are symbolic. And the bookstore question is critical. It challenges my integrity. In other words, was the bookstore trip just a ploy? Was it a lie to get me away from the discussion? And did I win money? That is interesting… of course, to me, it was never about the money. There is a chance for fireworks… but I steer us into a dull endgame. 18. [Carlos.] “No. No money. I only finished with three-and-a-half points. I needed another point to win money. And yes, I went to the bookstore. I bought two books.” We appear to be heading for a draw. I eat alone in relative quiet. After some time she makes her next move. …18. [Esposa]. “I am having some wine, White Niagra. Do you want some?” Most commentators give an exclamation mark after Esposa’s eighteenth move. They say it is almost impossible to find over-the-board. It restores her chance to win the game… a game which appears dead to most observers. 19. [Carlos]. “Yes,” I answer. “Thank you.” It appears there is the possibility of a make up. This is unexpected. But, I am in a sour mood. I did not like the re-scheduling of the birthday dinner. It put an ugly spot, a very ugly spot, on an otherwise beautiful day. …19. [Esposa]. She hands a small glass of white wine to me and says, “It is very good.” She takes a slow sip. “I’ll be going to bed after I drink mine.” This is a natural follow-up to her previous move. Part of a combination; but, with proper play the first player has nothing to fear. 20. [Carlos]. I decided to end the game. I swallowed the wine in one gulp. “Yes. That is good. Nice and sweet.” I turned on the television. I watched the rest of Mission Impossible III. ˝ - ˝ Stalemate.
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