His match with Iwamoto at rook’s handicap
Happy from his evening drink, Iwamoto sat grandly with his legs crossed
and slapped away at his bare thighs; and in due order he lost.
After dinner a clicking of stones came sporadically from Otaké’s room;
but soon he came down for rook-handicap games with Sunada of the
Nichinichi and myself.
“When I play chess I have to sing. Excuse me, please. I do like chess. I
ask myself and ask myself, and for the life of me I can’t understand why I
became a Go player instead of a chess player. I’ve been at chess longer than
Go. Must have learned it when I was four, maybe not quite, and a person
ought to be stronger at the game he learned first.” He would sing happily
away at his own versions, dotted with puns and innuendoes, of children’s
songs and popular songs.
“I imagine you’re the strongest chess player in the Association,” said the
Master.
“I wonder. You’re rather good yourself, you know, sir. But no one in the
Association has made even the First Rank at chess. I imagine I’ll always
get first play when I play Renju with you. I don’t even know the standard
moves. I just elbow my way ahead. I believe that you are Third Rank, sir?”
“But I doubt if I could beat even a First Rank professional.
Professionalism gives a person strength.”
“The Master of Chess, Mr. Kimura—how is he at Go?”
“Possibly First Rank. They say he’s improved lately.”
Otaké hummed happily as he did battle with the Master at a no-handicap
game. The Master was seduced into humming with him. Such levity was
not usual with the Master. His rook having been promoted,
edge.
