Why Competitive Chess is as Vicious as 10 Rounds in a Boxing Ring

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By Don Steinberg In my late forties, with father time beginning to gun for me, I decided to become a chess player. I wanted to line up a leisure activity for the day when my body would force me to quit banging into guys playing hockey, when my knees would tell me to stop chasing tennis balls across a hardcourt. Chess seemed like a pathway to staying nimble in my golden years. Didn’t Max von Sydow stave off the Grim Reaper with a game of chess? I had no idea I was walking into an airplane propeller of brutality. Chess is merciless and nasty. The image of tweedy professors and genteel clergymen …

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