A Simple Game

We’re sat at a chessboard, HH & I. He plays black, I play white. Don’t ask how that worked out. We didn’t need to flip for it.

He likes playing black, I like playing white. It works.

Mind, I do wonder if black’s considered the more masculine color* in regards to chess. For something that relies on intellect over brawn- assuming that brawn is the more masculine quality -it shouldn’t really matter.

On the other hand, war is generally assumed as being a masculine pursuit**. And chess is a simulation of war. Not a very realistic one, granted- things would be damn weird if it was.

Personally, I reckon they’d slaughter both kings and let the queens battle it out politically, while the knights theorized over the meaning of “L” and the rooks did laps of the board. Not sure what the bishops would do, mind. The pawns would be busy deciding who got to become a queen and who became an angel…

So…if chess is war, black is the more masculine- and thus more enthusiastic -side. Except that white moves first. That screws things up a bit; black is more enthusiastic, but the white chumps move first.

Maybe they want to sort it as soon as possible, to get back to doing other things. Whatever the heck those things are. They don’t want to posture. They just want to get stuck in, tidy up, and enter the blissful obscurity of storage.

Sounds kinda twisted, actually. I hadn’t really considered the notion that when it comes to chess, I’ve been siding with the suicidal. Pretty heavy for sixteen pieces of blank wood. I wonder what it’s like with the enthusiasts…?

I can’t say it makes things any more predictable. HH plays his game and I play mine. We act, react, plot and study. That’s how you play a good game of chess.

It’s all about seeing the same board.

We’ve been talking about change a lot, recently. It scares us and excites us. I still don’t know what to make of it, honestly, so it’s nice that we had this chess board lying around.

Give me a board and I can give you a decent game of chess. End of. Doesn’t matter where- if you’re game, I’m game. It’s a Constant***. Overlooked, often, but never forgotten.

We could be anywhere right now- except that we aren’t anywhere, because we’re in some European-looking city, sat at a wooden table outside a small cafe. I’ve ordered coffee, because the stink of New Year’s hasn’t quite left my nose or memory just yet.

It’s HH’s move.

TimeLord or Timeless, this year or the last, it’s the same game. And it’s one I think I can win.

W

*Some would say that black is actually a shade of grey. But then you could argue instead that grey is merely a lighter shade of black. And arguing can only get you so far…as far as deciding what constitutes a color is concerned…

**This may (ie. most likely) be explored in greater detail in a later post, based on the way in which these things have tended to crop up so far.

***Anyone who gets this reference should reminisce momentarily on what turned out to be a bloody fine show. Besides that one episode about Nicki and Paulo- which was solid proof that even the professionals occasionally suffer a creative lull.

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