The Chess Player Who Never Lost a Game

by Mark Shelton

Normal night at the Cherryland Cafe, most of the regulars were there; Romeo Samo, Kerry Lawless (creator of Chessdryad), Richard Shorman, Hiawatha Bradley, myself, and a few people who were actually buying something to eat. The door opened, and in walked a normal looking person. Richard and I were closest to the door looking at photographs he had taken a few days before.

“Hi,” he said to Richard, “I want to play a game of chess.”

“This is just the place,” said Richard to the normal looking person.

“I've never lost a game of chess,” he proudly announced.

“You've never lost a game of chess?” cried Richard in amazement.

“Never.”

I, too, was greatly amazed.

“Well then,” an enthusiastic Richard said, “you can play a game with Kerry, he has lost many games of chess.”

“Take it easy on him,” I earnestly added, “Kerry is just a beginner, only rated 1900 or so.” This obviously meant nothing to the normal looking person.

Samo and Hiawatha were playing a game of speed chess. Kerry was waiting his turn to play the winner.

Richard walked over to Kerry and asked, “Kerry, would you like to play a game with this normal looking person? He has never lost a game of chess,” he added.

“He has never lost a game of chess?” a startled Kerry asked.

“Never,” said Richard.

“Never,” said the normal looking person with confidence.

I nodded my head in agreement.

Samo and Hiawatha stopped their game. And both asked, “He has never lost a game of chess?

“Never,” Richard replied with great enthusiasm.

“Never,” said Kerry helplessly as he set up the board.

“Take it easy on him, Kerry is just a beginner,” I said again.

“We need Kerry to record the game for posterity,” Richard requested.

They started their game; all watched expecting Kerry's imminent demise in just a few moves.

Twelve moves later, Kerry checkmated the normal looking person; there was a stunned silence among the spectators.

“What happened?” someone asked.

“Something went wrong,” offered Richard.

“Impossible, he has never lost a game!”

Kerry sat silently enjoying his good fortune.

“Let's look at the game,” ordered Richard.

The normal looking fellow got up and gave Richard his seat.

After Richard completed his analysis, we all started talking about different aspects of the game and going over the moves and offering suggestions on what line should have been played. Nobody was paying much attention to the normal looking person.

While we were discussing the game, the always observant Kerry told us, “He just walked out the door and took the score sheet with him.”

Shocked, we were, the only game the normal looking person lost was now gone forever... not really. Another score sheet was produced, and Kerry wrote down the normal person's name, then wrote down all the moves of the game.

The new score sheet was taped to the wall, and the ever helpful Richard went in back and made a small sign, “The Chess Player Who Never Lost a Game,” and taped it just above the score sheet.

Days passed and I was sitting alone at the counter reading when in walked the normal looking person. I thought

he was going to ask me to play a game, as he approached he saw the sign above his game. He quietly turned around and left.

We never saw him again.