Four

A friend of a friend has learned that playing chess against himself can be the most difficult thing he's ever done. Funny and silly as it sounds, it has become all he can think of. Being chess itself a game to challenge one's own ability to foresee the opponent's move, he thinks that it is possible to develop two different minds in order to play without knowing what the other's move will be. Or his own, however you'd like to see it.

Just some days ago he found a chess board among dusty notebooks and other items he once packed --three years ago when he came to Canada-- and had not seen since then. How he ended up searching for God knows what in those boxes, I could not understand -- all I know is that he is playing against himself right now, and he might do so for a while until he achieves what he wants.

Sitting on a stool in the middle of his room, he studies the board and the pieces, analyzes a potential move and the many or few options he himself will have once he sits on the other stool and acts as if he didn't expect that last move. It's like playing rock-paper-scissors with yourself, a game of chance -- how can you dare to play without knowing which hand is going to win? Play chess and move the pieces knowing the chances of your opponent's next move. The chances, not the facts.

Some times you win, some others you lose, even if it's all on your own. Like the time he played his dad when he was nine, and won because the old man had let him win. Mad because winning like that feels more like losing, he demanded a rematch and lost. Three years later, he played his father again and won, fair and square, and heard the sweetest phrase his father could have ever said after losing a chess match.

"It's like playing against myself".