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Chessville
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The Kennedy Kids: by Mary Elizabeth, as retold by Rick Kennedy Princess of the King’s Game “How did you do at your simul, today?” my brother Jon asked, with his usual wicked grin. “Just fine,” I told him. I started to fill Marty’s dog dish with dinner. “I mean,” said Jon, coming closer, “you utterly destroyed everyone, didn’t you?” I smiled as I freshened up the water in the bowl. “It wasn’t that kind of an exhibition. I was just showing my friends at the Girls’ Club how to improve their game. It was very enjoyable.” “You mean you crushed their egos, Fischer-style, don’t you?” Jon persisted, grinding a fist into an open palm. “Oh, Jon,” I sighed, rolling my eyes just like I had seen my big brother, Matt, do. “You’re sooooo ‘old millennium.’” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded good. “Bobby was great – in his day – but nowadays I like to model myself after the Queens of the King’s Game…” Jon snorted. “Polgar, Polgar, Polgar...” Then he asked, “How good were they?” “A few of the girls needed some help with their moves,” I told him. “Luckily, their moms were there. Mrs. McNichols played a nice Knight sac against me.” “Let me guess – you purposely LOST all of your games, to help from damaging their precious self esteem?” The look on Jon’s face was not very nice. “Of course not, silly.” Even Marty wagged his tail at that one. “I played my best, as always. I just made sure that the girls were able to play their best, too. Then I taught them a few new things. That’s the whole idea, isn’t it?” Jon did not look convinced. “I suppose you played the Queen’s Gambit in all of your games?” Sometimes my brother thinks he’s so smart. “Queen’s, King’s – and even Jerome’s. When I’m playing for fun, I like to sacrifice my pieces.” “I prefer to sacrifice my opponent’s pieces,” Jon teased, as he headed toward the dinner table. “I prefer to sacrifice my opponent’s
KING,” I countered, taking the point. Index of Fiction at Chessville
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