Whatever happened to chess?

When I was growing up, chess was a fixture of life. Everyone played it; every household had a chess set, every school had its chess club. Men carried pocket chess sets in their briefcases to play games with co-workers at lunch or ponder over problems and games printed daily in the newspapers. Party conversations inevitably started with the old icebreaker: is the Ruy Lopez really passé? And cocktail jokes had punchlines like "...and then Lasker said Pawn to Knight three..."

Okay, so that's a little idealized.

Chess was, however, more a common element in daily life when I was young than it appears today. It seemed like a lot more people played it, and followed it with the same passion people today give to pro-sports. There was a chess club in every school I attended. And if you overheard a conversation with the names Botvinnik, Petrosian and Korchnoi, you understood it wasn't about the Soviet Politburo, but about their chess players.

Learning chess was one of those things that every kid seemed to go through, like learning to ride a bicycle or hit a baseball; an intellectual rite of passage. Even the jocks played chess.

I remember hitchhiking and riding trains and buses across Canada in the late 1960s, travelling with a knapsack, a guitar and a portable folding chess set. I played chess in coffee houses, hostels, bars, on the roadside in Saskatchewan with other hitchhikers stranded near the Alberta border.

Today, chess seems like a forgotten art, a quaint affectation from yesteryear. I can't recall the last time I saw people playing chess at a pub, or sitting outside at a café. I'm sure they do, still, but it's uncommon compared to when I grew up. That may in part be the result of living in a small town, but I don't see chess in newspapers, or on bookshelves as much as before.

I looked up "chess club" in the Community Connection database. I found one - only one for all this area - and it meets once at week at a local pub(if it is still in existence at all, and it meets on my council night, so I can't even get out to it). I don't know if the schools have active chess clubs any more - one is listed for CCI but without any details to suggest it's still active.

It would be difficult for the quiet intellectualism of chess to to compete with TV, Playstations, soccer and hockey teams, skateboarding or any of the other activities and distractions youth have today. I can see why kids won't be drawn to chess like we were, although it's really the influence of the parents that has more effect on growing up than any other source. Parents who don't play chess, don't read, don't encourage their kids in intellectual pursuits will generally raise a generation of people who have no respect or appreciation for those skills.

Chess doesn't have the attraction of violence, either, popularized on TV, in rap, and in film,. Nor can it offer the riches available through pro sports. It's almost spartan in its representation. But on the other hand, it's egalitarian: you only need an inexpensive chess set, any available space, and a little patience to play. And, of course, almost anyone can lean over a shoulder and enjoy a game in progress. You don't need special equipment, special skills or training, just an understanding of the rules to play and enjoy chess.

Chess isn't a mere game. It has been an integral part of cultural, society, politics and art. It has featured in literature, film and music. It has been analyzed for its relevance to psychology, war, business management and society. An evening playing chess is a rare combination of social and intellectual activity, of sharing and competing simultaneously, of being alone in one's thoughts and in company with others. Chess has depth beyond any of today's popular computer games.

There's an aesthetic about the chess set, too. The look of the pieces, their tactile feel, the size and materials of the board; all contribute to the sense of enjoyment when playing.

Chess also offers a platform for solitary intellectual pursuits - trying one's hand at solving chess problems, working through games, analysing variants and endings - that not only entertain but help train the mind to think in strategic terms, to plan, to look ahead and anticipate events and actions.

The 1972 game between Fischer and Spassky is probably the most heavily analyzed and documented game of any sort in history. It was a pivotal moment in the Cold War, pitting the reputations and politics of the Soviet world against those of the West. We followed those games avidly, playing each game through, move by move, as they appeared in the newspaper, eating our lunches, several us us hunched over the chess board, and kibbitzing over the moves.

That was one of those "where were you when...?" moments in life. People remember where they were, what they were doing when those games were in play, like remembering where you were when kennedy was shot, or when the planes hit the Towers on 9/11. It was a powerful moment when Fischer won, breaking the back of the long-held Russian/Soviet domination of chess, and perhaps was the start of the end for the Soviet empire.

Then there was the match between Karpov and Korchnoi in the Philippines... with the refuge, then-country-less Korchnoi using a pirate's skull-and-crossbones as his "national" flag.

I miss chess. I'm a terrible player these days, compared at least to the computer programs that are my only competitors (at least they can't laugh at my blunders, like a human opponent would). I'd be a patzer at any chess club, an easy mark for anyone with some skill and a look-ahead ability. But I miss the rituals, the feel of the pieces, the moments of exhilaration and depression as pieces were taken or lost. I suppose I miss it, too, because it reminds me of my father, who taught me to play.