My Dad taught us how to play and reigned as Checker King for as long as I can remember. It always perplexed me how he could be planning strategy three steps ahead while my whole goal was to not get jumped in the very next move.
I remember a particular match between my Mom and Dad where my father won in such grand fashion that my Mom was forced to grab the corners of her side of the checker board and flip the remaining checkers (all of which belonged to my Dad, of course) at the King.
This summer Molly has taken quite an interest in the game and I've spent a good deal of time teaching her the basics during the last few weeks. This week while visiting my parent's home, she was destined to meet up with both the checkers set from my childhood and the Checker King himself.
Last night I received this report from my Mom via text:
Dad and Molly just at [checkers] game for 30 minutes. Kate and I in beauty shop. Molly came up and announced that "Mom taught me all the wrong rules but I let Poppy win two games." Thought she would be sweating but none was visible. [She] was in a tiny snit over some king issue.
The question that remains is not what the snit over the king issue was, though one does wonder. The question that remains is how Molly managed to win or rather how Molly was allowed the victory because, as the child of King Checkers...I do not ever remember being allowed this pleasure!!
And so I conclude... Poppy has gotten soft.
This is yet another example of the affect of grandchildren on formerly sensible adults.
Mark it down and enjoy!
The true art of playing is not only to make the right move at the right time, but to leave unmade the wrong move at the moment of truth.
Players are usually at their most confident peak....just before they walk into disaster.
~Tom Wiswell, World Checkers Champion 1951-1976~