12
Chess
I’m learning to play Chess. I can’t remember exactly what spurred me to do it but something did and I’m surprised by how interesting it is. Not the basics you understand – my Dad taught me the rules before I’d even learnt how to blow the dust out of a NES – I’m talking about how to play. Like most people, I know how all the pieces move, how you win, I’m aware of some of the weirder bits like en passant and castling, but I don’t know how to play.
Chess is actually quite different from a lot of other games (board or otherwise):
There is no element of luck
The only thing that differentiates the two players is that White has a very slight advantage in going first. Over the course of the game, it’s generally accepted that this is a negligible advantage.
There is no physical or dexterous skill
Obviously this goes for most turn-based games, but it’s an important point – particularly in videogames, there is often a substantial gap between figuring out what to do and actually managing to do it.
All the information is known
This is quite rare for games – I’m struggling to think of others (Snap? Meh). There is no concealment – you can both see the entire board, you both know how many pieces have been taken, you both know whose turn it is, etc.
Obviously RTS/strategy games are the closest videogame match. Chess has long been associated with military strategy, and indeed the skills it teaches would undoubtedly serve a budding armchair general well. However, in terms of actual gameplay, most videogames violate some of the key things above. Luck turns up in hit probabilities or chances of fleeing, frantic realtime battles test your reaction speeds, and fog of war or hidden abilities mean the two players have differing amounts of knowledge.
So what have I learnt?
Essentially, the fun part is trying to set up traps and then pushing your opponent into them. Not hoping they stumble into them, you understand – actively throwing them in. You can generally force your opponent to make a particular move – protecting their King, for example, or retaliating in the inevitable pawn gorefest that characterises the middle game. You want to try and set up a chain of these forces which leave your opponent with no choice but to lose a piece. It’s quite hard – even short chains of two or three moves are tricky to hold in your head – but it’s a satisfying, engaging thought process. There are no asymmetries, no luck, no unknowns – both sides begin completely evenly matched, but by the end of the game, one will have lost. What makes the difference? I’m going to find out.




