Fevered still: chess, epee and sex on a spoon?

Wow, this fever just won’t quit. But neither will I.

I have been watching anime again, a series called Shion No Ou about Japanese Chess (Shouji) and three female players. The excellent storytelling slowly reveals the motivations, desperation and weaknesses of each player in life using the stategy within the Shouji Matches. Shion aged 14 is the youngest professional female player. She was adopted by the professional Shouji player and wife next door after her mother and father were murdered in front of her at age five. The killer stopped when he saw her over the board, and she was left alive, but mute, blood over her Shouji board. Shouji is and has been the one constant in her life. The killer was never caught.

That is the start. There are many twists and turns, but I won’t tell.

It reminded me of my father playing me chess as a child. And the year I spent, age nine, playing chess every lunch period with the math teacher, the Vice Principal. I liked it, but like math, it simply wasn’t enough for me.

I remember the tension at four or five, when my father was my father irritated with me, because I did not ‘think' and had made a poor move. He never held back and it took some years to win a single game, then years more to win constantly.

I supposed I could be bitter, or frustrated, and I probably was, but I learned that losing is a path to learning. And that to face someone stronger, and be defeated is the road to become stronger myself.

In the end I wanted to face the people, not the game, and I think it was Epee that finally gave me the taste I had been waiting for: to fail, be outmatched, to train, to overcome, to face again, using experience, the broad view, and the narrow view. To know that joy of suddenly losing to a lightning move IN a 15 point bout that left me perplexed: the challenge of trying to analyze, discover, deduce, determine, and try to change your style entirely was a greater engagement than the matches where everything I trained months for came together and I won. Those seconds, mind racing, telling my heart to calm as I walked to the line during a sudden reversal required complete mental and physical commitment. I was coming up with strategies, rejecting them, adapting others, comparing styles seen and determining what to do while the body trembled and sweat ran down me. Yes, these are great memories.

I never really thought I would be able to be strong enough, recover enough again to go to boxing. But I am. And I am bouting again. I may be far weaker than before. But that, like the wheelchair, is just one more slight disadvantage to overcome.

Tomorrow I want to come back and talk about the big craft faire on the weekend, and some of the purchases we got there. Linda, who seems maybe horny herself, got ‘Sex on a Spoon’ jam here and is pretty happy about it. That should worry me, right?

I’ll see you then!