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King's Gambit

He stared at the board
In hyperfocus!
Oblivious to the world
Intense and nervous…
This never gets old
Yes, this is serious!
 
Finally!!!
 
A smile lit his face
He figured it out!
He put the piece in place
Deliberate; without a doubt
 
Knight to King Bishop Four.
Clock showed few seconds more…
A brilliant move!
The chess gods should approve…
 
Alas!
 
He looked at the board again
Error made! Horror in his eyes
His chest bursting in pain;
It was a useless sacrifice!
And he felt his blood drain
For no counters will suffice…
 
Now he saw it clear as day
And he felt like a fat cow
His king will be slayed
A mere ten moves from now!
 
Kernel-size beads of sweat
Furrowed down his forehead
His hands clammy and wet
And his eyes turning red
 
He prayed his opponent won’t see
The predicament his king is in
But it’s so obvious, it will be easy
He’ll see it; and go for the win!
 
So he looked across the table
At his twelve year-old son
He’s smiling, looking agreeable
Certainly, his king’s undone!
 
Oh well… the gambit didn’t pay off
My opponent simply too tough!
 
11-08-2015
© Vic A Evora

(2015)

I taught my son to play chess when he was about five years old. And we played a lot when he was growing up. I never let him win; I didn't want him to think things will be given to him and I wanted him to fight for it. He was around twelve when he beat me in a game, for the first time. And I could still see the feeling of accomplishment in his eyes.

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