The Tale of Mr. Faldo

Mr. Faldo was an engineer from a city in the Midwest.

And as an engineer he always tried to be at his best.

But he also was a chess player, who played at a local club.

He’d practice at home with magazines and study books at a library hub.

His friends and contemporaries praised his game that poured out from his mind.
They said that he should use his gift instead of analyzing production lines.

But chess was his life, it was not his livelihood.
And it made him feel so happy and it made him feel so good.
And he played from his heart and he played from his soul.
He did not know how well he played; it just made him whole.

His friends kept working on him to try chess out full time.
Big tournament wins and rave reviews, a great career to climb.
Finally they got to him, he would try and make a splash.
A sponsor’s agent in New York agreed to back him with some cash.
And there were plane tickets, meal vouchers, money spent to enter tournaments.
It still took most of Faldo’s savings but he gladly used it all.

But chess was his life, it was not his livelihood,
and it made him feel so happy and it made him feel so good.
And he played from his heart and he sang from his soul.
He did not know how well he played; it just made him whole.

The tournaments came, he took his seat, his face set in a smile.
And in the filled hall the wood pushers stood, watching on the aisle.
But the tournaments were a blur to him, spatters of good maneuvers.
He did not know how well he played, he only remembered the blunders.
But his opponents and the USCF were concise. It only took about 20 games.

And no one could accuse them of being over kind.

“Mr. Faldo of Michigan made his top level tournament debut for six months.
He came well prepared, but unfortunately his game was not up to contemporary professional standards.
His skills lack the range of completeness and strength necessary to make it
consistently in this thing.
Full time consideration of another endeavor might be in order.”

He came home to Brighton and was questioned by his friends.
Then he smiled and just said nothing and he never played again.

Excepting very late at night, in his house, inside, dark and closed.
He studied quietly by himself as he sorted through old GM games.
You see, chess is his life, it was not his livelihood,
And it made him feel so happy and it made him feel so good.
And he played from his heart and he played from his soul.
And he did not care how well he played;

It just made him whole!

[Shamelessly borrowed from Harry Chapin’s “Mr. Tanner.”]