But now, at this moment, he was beaming with excitement.

“Do you know who this is?” Tom asked.

“Yes, Tom.  Good to hear from you.  You seem quite happy.  What’s going on?  It has been quite some time since we last spoke.”

He replied, “Do you know the significance of this call?”

“No.”

“Well, here it is!  You are talking to the next world chess champion!”

“I thought I was talking to Tom Marshgreen.”

He laughed.  “Funny.  That is the point.  I am the next world chess champion.  I am currently the strongest player in the world.  Now it is just a matter of starting the ball rolling; crushing masters and grandmasters tournament after tournament.  Getting invited to the U.S. Open and winning every game.  Going undefeated at the candidates’ play off.  And then winning the title of Chess World Champion with a perfect score, no less.”

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Of course I’m serious!  How can you even question that?”

“Tom, that all sounds impressive.  But saying it is one thing; doing it is another.  I doubt very much that …”

He cut me off, “Doubt!  Who are you to raise doubt!  Who are you, but a mediocre player who does not understand the facts?  You are not aware of my mind’s great strength.  Let me tell you something.  You know I am a millionaire, right?”

“Yes, it is something I can’t forget.  Your city parking lot ownerships keep paying off big time.  No arguing that.”

Tom continued, “I am rich and in essence I do not work, at least not like most fools.  What I have been doing is going to my game room nearly every day for the past two years and playing against very strong computer programs.  I crush them.”

“Come on.  You expect me to believe that you beat today’s programs?”

“Yes!  That is the point!  That is the proof!  They are better than today’s top players… and yet I crush them.”

“I still find that hard to believe.  You’re taking moves back, right?”

“How dare you insult me!  How dare you!”

“Calm down.  If you are truly that good, then that is fantastic and I look forward to your upcoming chess victories.  But surely you can understand my honest skepticism.  What you are talking about… well this is simply unheard of.”

“Yes.  Well that is what Nikita thought.  She was rated 2148 in Russia and that means she is really much stronger.  Because when guys play against her they don’t want to loose to a woman… so they fight with all their might.  Anyway, Nikita and I just had a 10-game match.  She conceded after I won the first six games straight.  I crushed her.  In every single game she was like an injured mouse with a cat.  She said she could not believe how strong I became.  She even said - we’ve got to get you to the candidate’s playoffs.”

“Okay.  Well, congratulations on your win over Nikita and please keep me informed of your progress.”

“There is one other thing.”

“Yes.”

“I want to play a 10-game match against you.  I want to crush you in all 10 games so you can be amazed at what kind of chess power we are talking about here.”

“But we never finished our match from last year.”

“What match?”

“The one I am winning with 5 wins and 2 draws.”

Tom laughed.  “Very funny.”

“You know it’s true.  I have the score pad upstairs.  I have the games.”

“Well let me tell you something.  That match never took place.  As for the games, anyone can write moves down and create fake games.”

“These are real games.  Don’t you remember?  During the last one that big branch came down in your front yard and we stopped the clock and went out to look at it.”

“Yes, a branch fell.  But there was no game.  Anyway, who cares?  You can say you won the nonexistent match if you want.  I am talking about the truth.  I am talking about now.  I am talking about the strongest player in the world.  Can you come over for game one?”

“Would this be game in 30?”

“Game in 30!  That’s junk chess!  Speed kills in chess.  I was thinking of four hours each.”

“Tom, an 8-hour game is a bit much.  How about an hour each?  The world’s best player should be able to take me down easily within in an hour.”

“Tell you what, two hours each.”

“I think an hour would be fine.”

“Two hours each… I refuse to play a faster game.  A keen mind such as mine might want to probe deep into a position; perhaps spend 30 minutes analyzing one position.  We are not talking clubhouse or internet slop here.  We are talking high caliber world championship level chess… at least for my part of the game.”

“Okay. I’ll play.  But I really hate these long games.”

“That’s the problem with chess players today, no patience.”

# # #

I arrived at Tom’s house a few hours later.  As the iron-gate was swung open by little electric motors, I thought it must be nice to live in a large house and have a big yard and not have to work hard for a living.  I noticed Nikita’s car in the drive.  Was she going to watch the game?  I preferred to play in private.

Nikita greeted me at the door and let me in.  “Dobrahdeen gespiden Gifford.”

“Dobrahdeen gespasha Protonya.”  As usual we greeted each other in Russian and had a little small talk in that language, mainly because I don’t know very many words… but I am trying.

Nikita said, in her broken English, “Tom waiting in game room.  He choose white pieces for game one.  Is okay?”

“Sure.”

“You go up.  I bring coffee.  You drink black, no sugar?”

“Yes.  Thank you.”

# # #

Tom rose from behind the nice wood set and smiled.  I noticed he had a small American flag behind his side of the clock and outdated hammer/sickle Russian flag by my side.

We shook hands as I asked, “What’s with the flags?”

“Tom gestured towards them.  I will be representing the United States when I play for the World Championship.  The flags help set the mood.  Besides, you speak a little Russian, so this is appropriate.  You don’t object, do you?”

“Nyet.”

Tom laughed and took his seat again.  “Well Gary, sit down.  Start my clock and be prepared to be amazed.  There’s a score sheet and pen for you, should you want to record this debacle.  It will be a part of chess history.  My opinion: you should record the game and consider it an honor that you will be the last to play me before I go on my impressive chess tour.”

“Thanks.”

I stretched a bit and than took a seat behind the black pieces.

At this time Nikita arrived.  “Coffee ready.  I now be downstairs should anything be needed.”

Tom looked surprised.  “You’re not going to watch the game?”

“I like not watching long game.  I check on game from time to time.”

Tom nodded, “Understood. Okay…. Thanks for the coffee.”  He now pointed at the clock, gesturing for me to start it.  We shook hands; he said good luck, and I pushed the button.

Tom wrote 1. P-Q4 on the score sheet; then pushed his Queen-pawn forward 2 spaces.  Tom loved descriptive notation and had refused to give in to algebraic, even though the rest of the chess world seemed to embrace the more efficient form.

I wrote down his 1.d4 and then briefly debated as to whether I should play a Dutch Defense or a King’s Indian system.  I chose the later by playing Nf6.

Tom began laughing.  But why?  He looked at me and composed himself.  “Sorry.  You know, let me give you some advice: Pawn-to-Queen 4 is best answered by Pawn-to-Queen 4.  If you could reach my level of play you would understand.  But I will save you some time and tell you now.  Consider it a free lesson."

“Fischer played King’s Indian,” I stated.

Tom looked at me.  He hesitated then replied, “The man you are playing now is better than Fischer.”

The word delusional entered my mind as the game continued.  It should have entered earlier.

Tom did not notice my move and continued his dissertation about the joys of collecting chess sets while his clock started to tick away valuable seconds.

As I enjoyed a bit of coffee Nikita quietly pushed the door open; but there was a light creak.

“How game going?” she asked.

I shrugged, believing that it was not appropriate to comment.

Tom turned and noticed his clock running. “What? My move? Pretty dirty trick! How long has this been running?”

“Just a few seconds. I just completed my move.”

Tom sat down red-faced and snapped my Bishop off the board. 7.Bxf5 He hit the clock fairly hard and wrote down the capture with a heavy pen. The game continued, with Tom usually taking lots of time between moves, whereas I usually took no more than a minute and sometimes just a few seconds.

He pushed his pawn to f4.  16.f4

17.Nf3 Qh5 18.cxd5 cxd5 19.Rac1 Bh6 20.h3 [diagram]

And now I saw the Knight sacrifice at e3.  It just popped into my head.  Quite nice, I thought.  I made the move and hit the clock.

“Oh my!” gasped Nikita.

“Nikita!  Please!”  Tom shouted.

“Sorry!”  She left the room.

Tom looked nervously at the clock.  He only had 35 minutes for the rest of the game.  Whereas I had 1 hour and 32 minutes.  I got up and stretched.  “Going to take a quick restroom break.”  And I left the game room.

Nikita was downstairs reading by a crackling fireplace.  She looked up at me.  “Sorry to have disturbed game.”

“No problem.  Tom was discussing his chess collection earlier.  If anything, that seems to be far more distracting.”

“He not winning?”

“I really can’t comment.  It’s not over.”

# # #

I returned to the game room and Nikita followed.  Tom looked rather happy and got up to greet her.

Tom smiled, “Nikita, come into the hall a moment.  Something in private I want to tell you.”  They stepped out of the room and I listened.  I could hear Tom whisper, “This is a very interesting position.  Gary did not anticipate my last move.  My King is free from the pin and after he exchanges his Bishop for my Rook on e3 he is hurting."

Now I could hear Nikita.  “You sure he not considered reply?  He play well this game.  I not see Knight sacrifice.  Good move by Gary.”

“Look, he is good, but not near good enough.  Just watch what happens.”

They returned to the room in time to see a Rook sacrifice with check.  Again, it was a case of a move popping into my head and seeming to be very good.

“Check.”

Tom stared in horror.  This was not expected.  And he looked at the clock.  How did he get into so much time trouble?  No choice here.  He had to capture.

Now I used the Bishop to capture the Rook on e3 which had lost its defense of the White monarch.

Tom looked at his clock again; then at the position.  He looked at Nikita, then at me…. back at the clock.  Back at the board.  At the clock again.  He muttered something about the time; then made a terrible move by checking me with his Queen. 24.Qc8+??

He needed to play his Rook to f1, but even then, the time pressure would have been unbearable.  Tom had to make all remaining moves in 5 minutes.  The few remaining moves went rather fast.

24. . . . Rxc8 25.Rxc8+ Kg7 26.Rc7 Qg6+ 27.Kf1 Qg3 [Diagram]

As I got up Tom tore his score sheet to shreds.  He continued yelling, “This game doesn’t count!  Do you hear me!  It is a non-game!  A non-game!  It never happened!  It is nothing!  You are nobody!”

I left Tom’s house without a word.

That was several years ago and I’ve not seen him since.  I tried contacting him by phone on a few occasions, but he never picked up.

I sent an e-mail once too, and to my surprise did get a reply.

Quite simply it read:

Gary:

Be aware that your name appears on my black-list. As a matter of policy, I do not communicate with negative persons.

Note that your calls will not be answered and that any additional e-mails will be promptly deleted.

Try to get it straight in your head that we have never known each other. To me, you do not exist.

Regards,

Mr. Thomas J. Marshgreen,
World Chess Champion

Now reading Mr. Marshgreen’s e-mail does not seem to be a good way to end this story.  But it is.  There is no more to tell.  Thomas Marshgreen continues to reign as the World Chess Champion, in his own mind.  And as for me, just ask Thomas Marshgreen, I don’t exist.
 

Author’s Note:  This story was inspired by actual events.
Names, occupations, nationalities, and some event details have been changed.