Page 30 - The Art of Learning by Josh Waitzkin_Neat plip book

deadly serious. I played my games on the fi st board, isolated from the rest of
the children once more. My parent s waited in the hotel lobby, watchi ng my

game on a video monitor with throngs of other ner vous moms and dad s. My
first round was difficult, but then I crui sed thr ough the field, winni ng my fi st
six games.
Going into the last round, Jeff Sarwer and I had the onl y two per fect scores.

I had harder pairings throughout the event, so if we dr ew the ga me I woul d
win on tie-breaks—but no one was thi nki ng dr aw.
Jeff was the only kid I was afraid of. Rum or was that he, his fathe r, and
sister had been sleeping in their car thr ougho ut the tour nam ent . Between

rounds he would sit on the floor, huggi ng hi s ski nny knees and scowling at
anyone who tried to speak to him. He had cont empt for other ki ds , called the m
“ugly putzes” and smirked when appr oached . It woul d be easy to vilify hi m,
but Jeff was a child dealt certain cards . His father was a brut al autho ritarian, a

messianic figure who channeled hi s crazy ener gy and ideas into creating the
perfect chess machine. Although we never really connect ed on a persona l level,
I had great respect for Jeff. He loved the game and worked at it ha rde r tha n
anyone I knew. T his would be war.

He had the white pieces, a small adv antage (whi te moves first) tha t was
magnified by our particular matchup. I had done a lot of preparation on the
white side of my opening repertoire and was less con t with bl ack. He
started the game with tremendous aggr ession, coming straight after me with a

very dangerous central pawn storm agai nst my King’s Indi an Defens e. I ha d
never seen this variation before. He moved qui ckly, playing with terrifying
confidence, and I was on the ropes from the start. His cent ral pawn pha lanx
seemed to be devouring me, pushing me back before the gam e even be ga n. He

bristled with cockiness and seemed to mock me, impl ying that I ha d no right
to sit at his chessboard.
My chances looked slim right off the bat. Early in the middl egame I lost a
pawn and then I tried to slow down his initiative by trading some pi eces. Thi s

is risky—when you are down material, exchangi ng pi eces inc reases your
opponent’s advantage (consider how the ratio of 5 to 4 compar es to 4 to 3; 3 to
2; 2 to 1; 1 to 0—as pieces come off the ches sbo ard, a small material edge can
gradually become overwhelming). But I loved the endgam e, and he ade d for it

like a safe house. When we traded queens Jeff seemed to snar l at me. He was an
absolute killer, an d he had me by the t hr oat.