Project Chess City Council Cup Champions!

In the four-round Project Chess City Council Cup tournament in Brooklyn today, my school's team brought home the gold! We're putting the cup in the trophy case this coming Monday.

My personal record was 3-1, losing only in the final round, and tying for second place with a few other students (Adrian among them). I lost to the same dude who brought down Adrian in the second round -- who was also the only competitor in the High School section of the tournament to reach a record of 4-0. I guess if you're gonna lose to anybody, you should lose to the best guy in the room, right? Right.

If interested, you can check out the games here!

Active Weekend

Well, this has been interesting.
Yesterday:
2:00 p.m.:Arrive at park in Forest Hills with my cousin Matthew to play chess with Adrian.
6:30 p.m.: Finish playing chess, get picked up by mom. Drive to Carom billiards cafe in Flushing to meet Johnny and Matt Weiss.
7:30 p.m.: Johnny and Matt arrive. Play ping pong until roughly 10:00 p.m.
10:30 p.m.: Finally decide on what to do next. Begin driving to Johnny's apartment in the city. Stay there and hang out.
2:30 a.m.: Arrive home. Remember the ping pong paddles are still in Matt Weiss's trunk and get his number from Johnny.
2:45 a.m.: Matt Weiss returns with paddles.
3:00 a.m.: Go to sleep.

Today:
1:37 p.m.: Wake up. Go through the usual morning stuff. (Fine, so it was the afternoon, but you get the point.)
4:08 p.m.: Arrive with Matthew at Carom billiards cafe to meet Adrian. Play ping pong until 7:00 p.m.
7:15 p.m.: Arrive at park near Carom and set up the chess set on a field.
7:30 p.m.: Finish playing chess because Adrian insists on playing soccer with some Mexicans across the field.
8:30 p.m.: Finish playing soccer with my lungs heaving and my manhood aching from a powerful soccer ball to the groin.
Roughly 8:40 p.m.: Arrive home again. Load up on food and water, get on computer.

And now I'm off to play some more chess with Matthew.
'Til next time, folks.

Today's the Day...

Where nothing happened.
The simul didn't take place. My newfound determination to win since the losses last night has apparently developed into a near-bloodlust on the chessboard -- everybody must have sensed it; they simply...chickened out.
But! But!
I played Mr. Barnett instead, and massacred him. It was a lovely feeling. :)
Watch out, City Council Cup! I'm coming!

Today's the Day

I'm kind of irritated. Last night, I must have played my cousin Matthew in five games of chess, and I only won one of them. And after all of my reading, it came down to the simple fact that my efforts did me no good. I can't improve in a matter of days by loading my head with principles. Practice is the only way, and I just didn't get enough practice.
I'm in this for the win, not the fun. I'm in this to create works of art in my games, and it just isn't happening. It's very irritating.
And today I'll be holding a simul. I have to find something before then to clear my head, so that I can focus on the games and the games alone.
All I know is, in this coming week before the tournament, I have to practice like crazy against my computer and against Matthew. Practice makes perfect, right? Right.
Everyone loves an underdog.
More news after the simul!

Tournament Prep (cont'd, with some other current events)

Well, tomorrow's the day I'm holding my simul. The stress is piling on heavier than ever.
I'm currently reading Improve Your Chess in 7 Days by Gary Lane, Art of Attack in Chess by Vladimir Vukovic, Winning Chess Openings by Yasser Seirawan, and Winning Chess Strategies (again, by Yasser Seirawan) to get my mind in top form for the event to come.
My uncle dropped by last night to give me my late birthday present: a tournament board with pieces (including extra queens), a notation booklet, and a carrying bag for the lot. I'm thrilled with it. Me and my cousin Matthew, who was over at the time, broke it in immediately with a few blitz games. For those that don't know, by tournament standards a blitz game tops off at 15 minutes per player.
On a different note, I finally got my ping pong paddles in the mail that I ordered from amazon.com. I'm sorry, "table tennis rackets" is the professional term. I'll be trying one of them out today, again with Matthew (the other paddle/racket is a gift for someone).
Again on a different note, I'm finally getting some writing done on my original seven-book revenge story. I've decided that, this being the rough draft, I can structure it however I want, right? So I'm structuring it like a screenplay, simply reduced to lines of speech and stage directions. That way, when I go over it in revision, I just elaborate on the stage directions to fill in the gaps, and voila! I have my novel.
One more different note -- this will be the last time, I promise -- the title of favorite artist is now held by Jason Mraz for his songs "I'm Yours" and "If It Kills Me". Look them up at free.napster.com.
I'm out of current events for now. News on the simul results tomorrow!

Tournament Prep

Chess, chess, chess.
This is what I call some serious chess stress. I need to train my team for the tournament on May 31st in Brooklyn, and I can only do it for an hour and a half every Friday. Which means I have a grand total of three hours left to get them all in good enough shape to tear down the competition.
This is ridiculous. And what we need to focus on, instead of how to conduct a proper attack, or what theory suggests for the Sicilian Defense, is how to write moves (since everybody needs to keep notation for their tournament games).
What to do? What to do?
Well, my brother suggested last night that, you know what? They're all making their own moves. I can't help them. I can only help myself win this tournament to give our school a good name. So this Friday, I'm holding a simultaneous exhibition against my entire chess club (for those that don't know, a simultaneous exhibition is where one player engages several opponents at once, walking from table to table and making a single move at a time). It will be a trial. I'm making sure to have enough money for three Red Bulls that day.
And next Friday, I'm going to get some batteries for the clocks we have in club and set up some timed games, to see if everyone's got what it takes to record the game while under pressure from the timer.
Wish me luck! These next two Fridays are only a taste of the pressure I'll be under on the 31st!

Misery Without Company -- a poem-portrait of despondency

Here's a poem I wrote a long time ago. It's going to be published in my school's collection of student writings this year.

An ashtray full

Of butts and burning dust.

A hollow, half-lidded stare

Stuck on walls

While moonlit curtains blow.

A fresh cigarette unattended,

Held loosely

Between numb fingers.

Trailing smoke up and up.

A shot glass at his lips—

Locked and loaded,

Drained in a slow moment.

Falls over

When he puts it back.

Books

Scattered on his desk.

Read and reread and reread

To keep his thoughts at bay.

The empty bottle

Of harsh whiskey spent

And sitting in his stomach,

Stealing memory and feeling.

A dry dead red rose,

Brittle and cold.

Empty pillows

Hoarding the scent of her hair

And whispered promises

That stayed behind,

Haunting him

From across the room.

And her absence,

A hammer blow

That booms through the emptiness

And echoes away

To quiet teardrops on the floor.

Last Night...

I just got off the phone with my bro. When it started out, I was depressed out of my mind, listening to "Asleep" by the Smiths and "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. When he heard "Asleep" over the phone, he immediately asked me:
"Are you listening to 'Asleep'?"
"Yeah."
"Dude, you've gotta stop. Because if you kill yourself, I will kick your ass."
"How?"
"I would kick your dead ass so hard you'd feel it in the afterlife!"
I paused for about ten seconds...total silence. "Okay."
I guess I was in the bad place I was because, about half an hour earlier, I had been talking with my friend John, and he told me that Liz wanted to have nothing to do with me. I guess that since I had been holding onto our friendship in the hope of eventually getting back together with her, and now that she was cutting even that off, I was only just then feeling the full brunt of our breakup.
So, back to my talk with Jonathan. It started off with him asking me if I was alright. I just said, "I've got a problem with moving on."
"How so?" he had said. "What is it that you're holding onto? I mean, just having an outlet for affection or not being alone, or..."
"Yes. Every last bit of it."
"Well, that has nothing to do with her." And so he told me that really, it wasn't Liz that I have to get over, so much as just being alone. And how what she was doing had nothing to say about me, but it said a lot about her. But I'd heard that before.
He told me about how, while I had been giving Liz everything I could possibly give, I neglected myself. I didn't speak my own mind; I didn't come out of my shell. But I'd heard that before. And I said it.
So he told me that I had to think a lot about what I want out of a relationship, as in: do I want a girl who's artistic and introverted? Or all social-butterfly and musical? Or someone deep and receptive to all my ideas and views? Or...you get the point.
And so, where I started out depressed as hell and not knowing how to move on in any way, shape or form, I wound up standing from my bed, pacing and saying this:
"You know what's keeping me from moving on? It's this damn circle, my friends. I mean, they're great and all, it's just...nobody gets the concept of infinity or appreciates it in the manner that I do. I've tried spreading the perks of being a wallflower around like crazy, but nobody gets it, you know? I'll ask what their favorite part is, and they'll say, 'That part where he got high,' or something about his mid-plot epiphany, but nothing about that one damned sentence: 'I feel infinite.' I had Melissa, who understood it perfectly, but she moved to another school. So really, you're the only friend I have who's Charlie-esque enough to get me, and I have nobody over here. I guess, then -- well, I don't guess, I know -- that to move on, I've just got to find people like that, who get the infinity concept, who'll take that IIOII on their shoulder."
To which he replied: "Just be who you are. And if you are who you are, then those other people will find you; you don't have to go on a crazy hunt. And don't ever doubt who you are, even if other people don't get it. You're the man, okay? And here's how you know you're the man: Charlie would hang out with you. Bye."
Click.