Chess is the ultimate game of egos, with complete information the goal of any game is to prove that you're better. That you're the one. That you matter you too.
The rating system is like the currency we use to feed our egos, we give some of our lives to the sole purpose of proving we can do it. We hide our real intentions by saying we play for fun, we may even manage to convince ourselves.
- where is the fun in those thousands of hours sunk into training?
- where is the fun in all those painful games where you won only because of your opponent's mistakes?
- where is the fun in that constant search of a bigger rating?
I once thought I liked maths, when I started chess if felt like math, I tried to solve every problem like I would solve an equation. For in the end the only thing that mattered was the result, the method could be insanely beautiful, it was never a match against the solution. The correct one.
As I graduated (and as the solutions became much less important than the methods) I realized I didn't really liked math, what I liked was taking pride into doing something difficult, nothing but a vain effort to prove what I was worth.
Would we still be playing chess for no money if our self-confidence was over the roof? I doubt it.
I've read that quote the other day:
"If you choose not to find joy in the snow you will have less joy in your life but the same amount of snow."
Is it really healthy to tie a part of our happiness in that pitiless game?
The rating system is like the currency we use to feed our egos, we give some of our lives to the sole purpose of proving we can do it. We hide our real intentions by saying we play for fun, we may even manage to convince ourselves.
- where is the fun in those thousands of hours sunk into training?
- where is the fun in all those painful games where you won only because of your opponent's mistakes?
- where is the fun in that constant search of a bigger rating?
I once thought I liked maths, when I started chess if felt like math, I tried to solve every problem like I would solve an equation. For in the end the only thing that mattered was the result, the method could be insanely beautiful, it was never a match against the solution. The correct one.
As I graduated (and as the solutions became much less important than the methods) I realized I didn't really liked math, what I liked was taking pride into doing something difficult, nothing but a vain effort to prove what I was worth.
Would we still be playing chess for no money if our self-confidence was over the roof? I doubt it.
I've read that quote the other day:
"If you choose not to find joy in the snow you will have less joy in your life but the same amount of snow."
Is it really healthy to tie a part of our happiness in that pitiless game?