My old chess teacher
When I was in Primary 5, Mr R was my class teacher. He also ran the school chess club, and I was his star player. Our team of 4 would cram into his rusty hulk of a car heading off here and there vanquishing the other schools in the town. Plus we got away from school early for matches. Happy days.

But Mr R had a calling to be a Church of Scotland minister. He was leaving teaching, and going to become a man of the cloth - way up somewhere in the northern wilds of Scotland. We all knew that he would be a huge loss to teaching - a kind, patient, intelligent and funny man, but who didn't suffer fools gladly and god help you if you got on the wrong side of him.

His final day arrived. Coincidentally, there was to be a school assembly organised for that afternoon. I was now in Primary 6, with a different teacher, and Mr R popped his head round the door and had a quiet word with her. I was told that I was to be excused from attending assembly so that I could play chess with Mr R for one last time. Assemblies were boring as hell at the best of times, but to be excused from attending to play a game of chess was something totally out of the blue. My mates trooped gloomily off to assembly while I happily got the chess set out. Being a geek does occasionally pay out.

During all our previous games, I'd never once beaten him - I was only maybe 10 or 11 anyway, so that wasn't surprising. And that final game he hammered me once more. The result was unimportant to be honest.

Totally out of the blue, I bumped into him perhaps 15 years later. I was now in Edinburgh, and I was in a church hall watching a friend's singing group performing when I saw him - he was the local minister. Small world. I went over and he recognised me straight away. I had just been a kid when we'd last met, but now here I was fully grown and he still recognised me. We joked about getting out of assembly that day, and he admitted that he hated the damn things as well, so the idea of the chess match was as much about dodging that as it was about playing me for a final time.

Apologies for length. Well it was {insert some joke or other about him rogering me over the chess board}
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 18 Mar 2011, 13:39, 5 replies)

That'd
be, like, a pawn movie.
( Not Pineapple anymore, Fri 18 Mar 2011, 14:16, closed)

I for one would be beating my bishop over it

(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 18 Mar 2011, 16:40, closed)

Did he.....
bend you over the chess board and fuck the living daylights out of you?
(mparryuk52, Fri 18 Mar 2011, 15:16, closed)

Have you ever tried scrubbing jizz off a chess board?
I can think of better ways to spend my time.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Fri 18 Mar 2011, 16:41, closed)

What a let down!
"and he admitted that he hated the damn things as well, so the idea of the chess match was as much about dodging that as it was about playing me for a final time"

So you went from feeling special, to feeling used for his own diversion and amusement. I bet he feels right at home rodgering school boys in his rectory.
(erewhon, Wed 23 Mar 2011, 13:48, closed)