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Show jokers was pdpa's gamer Rflb Brtimf ild TheCindnnatTEnquw ter Bobby Fischer "J? troubles, he ;k tried to play j my grandfather. jJS-fknoww hat ,f be the most in-;ii in-;ii r player in the tC h wanted to be- -Sjrtime he played ; Jwas he a good Sfrom the technical 3 but also he was a 'freaking out his op- ;L years I Played Papa, game and I never 'fcWrow. He always j upon using the red ' That was one ot the Vjways psyched me out , He game even started. 1 : l0 believe that the red '..1S were enchanted. But no ' how much I argued, if I j to play checkers with "..legot the red checkers. No jeckers-no game, i trying to break Papa s -red line" was like trying to through the 93rd Anders at Balaklava. It just j't be done. addition to maintaining an able king row, Papa also i a corncob pipe filled with -.scrapings," and most of isves were made under cover doud of blue smoke that jfd the checker board. It at unusual to discover that Papa had made a move, A of your checkers had aously changed position appeared completely, i; also hummed and whistled aisly while he played, i was enough to drive you if wall. !j favorite attack was aj a thrust down one side of -:oard, then quickly jumping the other side, sacrificing as many checkers as need be to get into Papa's king row. In theory, my battle plan was sound. In practice, I always ended up like Rundstedt in the Ardennes stalled and butchered. but-chered. One time, I managed to bang right up to his king row. I'd sacrificed most of my checkers to do it, but I was determined that I was going to break his king row, no matter what. "Jump him! Jump him!" I shouted. "You've got to take your jump, and when you do, you've got a hole in your king row!" "Don't have to do no such thing," Papa said. "Yes you do, Papa!" I exclaimed. ex-claimed. You've got to take a jump! That's the rules!" "Are you sure, boy?" he asked, pretending he was rattled. "Well, sir, if that's the rules, then I guess I'll just have to take my jump." Then he proceeded to take another jump I'd overlooked in my blind passion to break his king row a six-checker jump that wiped me out. But Papa didn't always win by tactics. I hate to say this about him now that he's gone, but he was the dirtiest, rotten, checker cheater who ever played the game. One night we were playing, and Papa was just a little off his game. I think he'd been nipping at his "medicine." Anyway, I managed to threaten his king row again, only this time I checked the board closely. There weren't any other optional jumps Papa could take. "Well, I finally did it," I remarked, happily. "Did what?" he replied. "I've got you, Papa. You've got to take your jump and open your king row," I said. "No I don't," Papa said. "I don't have to take that jump if I don't want to. There ain't nothing in the rules that says I got to take any particular jump." "It's the only jump you got, Papa!" "No it ain't either!" he grumbled. "It is too!" I shouted. "Take it! Take it!" "Don't sass me, boy!" he said. "I'm going in the other room and get my pipe tobacco, and when I come back, I'm going to show you." Then, as he got up, he deliberately knocked over the coffee table with the checker board on it. "Dadblameit, boy! Now look what you made me go and do!" he growled. Fischer would have been a pushover for my grandfather. |