My Chess Match and T1D
By Mike Takieddine
It seemed to me in retrospect that I had always had two preoccupations
in life: chess as of the age of seven, and type 1 diabetes even before that. My
dad had taught me the game and had always found the time to indulge me. Of
greater significance though was the fact that he was a family physician and had
always tried to give me “the real skinny” on matters to do with my auto-immune
system, pancreatic issues, and all the rest of it.
I never fail to thank God for giving me the most supportive parents
ever. Since that early age, I followed a nicely balanced –and perpetually
evolving- diet, and a steady regimen of exercise, which I learned to enjoy.
My big thrill however was in playing chess. By the time I was12 and 13
years old, I had read countless books by the Masters, particularly chess giants
such as Alekhine and Capablance of the early 20th century. Alekhine
had been the Russian Grandmaster who was famed for playing dozens of games both
simultaneously and blindfolded (one board after the other without seeing the
boards) -and scoring a high majority of wins.
It was however playing back my all-time hero’s games, Bobby Fisher, as
well as his Russian rivals of the 1960’s and 70’s, that catapulted me into the
ranks of a good player. I became ranked #1 in the under 16 category in the
state of Delaware where we lived.
Admittedly –and before anyone makes sneering remarks about tiny
Delaware- that wasn’t the strongest chess playing state in the Union (in fact,
it ranked 48th). But I was under 16, and it was encouraging. By
then, I was beating my dad easily and kept reminding him of a well dredged fact
around chess, namely that the human brain peaked at age 28 -that it was
downhill after that.
My big test promptly loomed on the horizon when I manipulated the
diabetic society that we frequented into challenging a counterpart of theirs in
the state of New York, ranked 3rd in the nation. It would be for
under 16’s, and in New York City, a double challenge for me with my diabetes,
given all the preparations and precautions my family and I would have to take.
Thus, off we went when the time came, and we checked into a hotel near
the YMCA where the event would take place. I was told mine would be a
best-of-three match, against a guy called Jonathan Dunkin. When his 6’3” frame
showed up, my heart fluttered and I was properly intimidated.
In the famous games of the 70’s between the Russian Grandmasters and
Bobby Fisher, the war of nerves played a huge role, the Russians trying hard to
intimidate Fisher with all sorts of machinations, and Fisher responding with more
of the same. That speaks for how nervous players can get prior to a big match.
On the world scene, grandmasters always went to tournaments accompanied
by an entourage that included a psychiatrist, a physical trainer, and several
peers-players. They would at times spend the whole night preparing the opening
of a game that they hoped to spring on their opponent.
I was promptly stressed out, my hands shaking, and 15-year old Jonathan
beat me in the first game through an error in judgment that I conveniently
blamed on my nerves. The good news was that I prolonged that losing first game
as much as possible, giving myself time to settle down and shake off my case of
nerves. Sure enough, the second game went on forever, and I won it by way of
god play in the end game when there were only a few pieces left on the board.
We had a break, and it would be my turn to start on the final game, so
while my parents fussed about my food and liquids, I was in my mind rehearsing
the Ruy Lopez opening, Ruy Lopez having been a Spanish Grandmaster who had a
popular opening strategy. I figured that the opening was so commonly used that
Jonathan wouldn’t be expecting it.
Sure enough, he looked at me quizzically when I made the first few
moves, as if to say “I can’t believe you’re playing the Lopez.” Well, he was
ill prepared, and the game went my way from beginning to end.
The story of my chess at a young age parallels my fight against diabetes almost step by step.
My preparation and discipline were winners for me all along, my parents helping
out through all the stages, and particularly when confronted with health and
other snags. I used chess at an early age to take my mind off diabetes and
render me equal to others, without acrimony towards myself or anyone else. My
big advice to my peer T1D’s is to get involved with external things that you
enjoy and allow your mind to grow away from what disorders you may have.
About Mike
Takieddine, the author:
Mine has been a privileged life, first for
having traveled all over as son of an international family, then for having had
the opportunity to study at Oxford, and finally for a gratifying writing career
culminating in crafting prose for a very special website, healthline.com. For me, the best cure
for my chronic disease was to immerse myself in external activities that I
could get passionate about, including a healthy lifestyle. The enemy is stress, and stress is wily, unyielding, and usually intricately disguised.
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