The Strangest Sport of All

Written by Moe Zilla, Published on 4/17/2009

Everyone laughed when they first met Ernie.

He grew up on a farm, and was very friendly. He wore thick, nerdy glasses. And there was some truth to the impression his glassed gave. Reading was the only thing to do in his tiny hometown, and instead of sports in high school, Ernie played chess. He'd also earned college scholarships, and worked hard on his homework.

And Ernie would soon solve a mystery about the strangest sport of all.

Ernie didn't belong in gyms, but there he was, adjusting the weights to their lowest settings and exercising furiously. He seemed excited and determined, which made it difficult to get him to stop and talk, but the gym's manager, Gordon, struck up a conversation. Or at least, he tried to. Ernie wouldn't interrupt his workout for a second, but he handed the manager a flyer that he'd been carrying in his pocket all morning. As soon as he'd read it, Ernie had jogged for two miles, and then headed straight for the gym. In bold letters, the red flier announced: Chess boxing tryouts today.

Ernie socked a punching bag -- though it looked more like a slap. The manager smiled, and said "Kid, is this thing for real?"

"It's a new sport," said Ernie, jabbing the punching bag fiercely, "and it's the only sport I'll ever be good at."

"But it's chess and boxing?"

"Is there something funny?" Ernie said, throwing three punches at the bag.

"Why would you want to be a chess boxer?"

Ernie stood for a minute, looking scared but philosophical. "Maybe I have something to prove."

* * *

The rules of chess boxing are brutal. The chess players move their pieces for four minutes. Then, they start punching each other. It's a two-minute round of boxing, just like the professional boxers endure. But between every round of boxing – the opponents stop for four minutes of chess.

"This is the stupidest sport I've ever seen," said the gym's manager.

"Are you going to support me or not," Ernie said. He'd paid the gym for a membership, and paid extra for personal training. Every morning when the gym opened, Ernie showed up for boxing lessons. In all his years of managing the gym, Gordon had never seen a student so determined, but Ernie swore he knew a winning strategy.

"Listen," he said, "the chess games go fast. If I can score a checkmate, I win both events -- it counts as a knock-out punch."

"And if you don't?" asked Gordon skeptically.

"Then I only have to survive in the boxing ring for another two minutes."

"Or another four minutes, if you still can't finish the chess game. Or another six minutes. Or eight minutes. Or... "

"I'll win the chess game," said Ernie. He sounded certain -- yet unconvincing. It was the voice of a young man who'd lived life behind nerd glasses.

* * *

The morning of the qualifying event, the gym was quiet -- too quiet. It was like the punching bags were dead, Gordon thought, but he wasn't worried about business. This was the first morning in four months that he hadn't given a boxing lesson. He missed the weird determination that Ernie always showed. And he missed Ernie. It all still seemed crazy. He couldn’t help but wonder if Ernie would win, or get clobbered in the ring.

And then he knew what he had to do ...

* * *

Ernie had never even seen a boxing ring, because he'd concentrated on learning how to duck. Gordon had showed him moves to protect his face and his gut, plus a clinch that was guaranteed to burn seconds off the clock. But the downtown gym was filled with real boxers -- fierce fighters with giant muscles. Ernie had never been punched by a boxer before. He was starting to worry.

And that's when Gordon showed up.

"Still want to be a chess boxer?" Gordon asked. Ernie didn't answer. Gordon looked at the boy with the glasses, and thought about the four months he'd spent at the gym. Then he went to the registration table to scope out the competition.

"Great news," he said to Ernie a few minutes later. "These big guys you're looking at? They're here to try out for the Olympics. The chess boxers are over there!" Gordon pointed towards the next room, which also had a boxing ring. It was a long, dark room with no windows or doors, except the one connecting it to the main boxing room outside. Under a sign that read "Welcome chess boxers," they'd set up the official chess board on a table by the far wall, where two freshmen were sitting quietly, each studying a book of chess openings and wearing enormous eyeglasses.

Both of them were skinnier than Ernie …

* * *

A referee was explaining the rules -- four minutes of speed chess, two minutes of boxing -- when the three chess boxers got some horrible news. A boxer strode in through the doorway -- one of the real boxers.

"The Olympic tryouts are over there," said Gordon, but the boxer didn't move. He was there for the chess boxing. And this terrified each one of the other chess boxers.

The youngest of them was named Winston. He sang tenor in the glee club, and they'd dared him to try out for this event. Winston had never even seen a boxing match, and his strategy for the bout was to run. In his head, he'd imagined himself running for two minutes -- dodging behind his opponent, inventing new ways to duck -- and then beating them at chess. Now he wondered if that strategy would work, should he actually have to face a real boxer.

On his right was a skinny, redheaded freshman named Jesse. Jesse had freckles and behind his glasses was a pair of calm brown eyes, which made him look either thoughtful or stupid. Gordon assumed that Jesse was stupid -- mainly because each one of these kids was about to get clobbered. If Jesse had thought seriously about the event, Gordon was sure that he would've stayed home.

Was there any way to escape certain doom? The referee motioned to the real boxer, who joined the others on the bench by the ring. The real boxer had a name -- Mac -- and a hard face that seemed made out of stone. He never smiled, and he never said a word. And every chess boxer on the bench was terrified of him.

* * * Winston went first, and was matched against Mac. After Winston's first move, Mac just stared at the chess pieces for a full 30 seconds, then finally did what Winston had done -- making exactly the same move on the opposite side of the board.

"He's just copying Winston's moves," Gordon whispered to Ernie. "This guy can't even play chess. He just came here to beat you guys up! "

"Then there's a sure way to beat him," Ernie whispered back, "with a two-move opening that guarantees a checkmate."

Winston played his best, but the gong sounded, and it was time for their first round of boxing. When it started, Winston immediately fled to the ropes, but Mac pinned him into a corner. Then he pummeled Winston mercilessly. Winston's nose started bleeding, and the ref separated the two boxers. When the match resumed, Mac slammed Winston's head with his boxing glove, and the glee club tenor dropped to the mat, unconscious. The match was over. It had lasted 41 seconds.

They took a break to wipe the blood from Winston's nosebleed off of the boxing ring's canvas.

The referee decided to move the next match to the other boxing ring, since the Olympic tryouts were almost over. The remaining chess boxers moved silently, each contemplating the fight to come, but they'd have to wait 10 more minutes until their boxing ring was free.

The ref called Ernie's name. He'd be boxing Mac.

Gordon looked at Ernie, and then looked at Mac, amazed that this moment had finally come. Ernie was reading a book of chess openings, and Mac hadn't even removed his gloves from the last fight. The moment of truth had arrived.

Just then the ref realized that they hadn't brought the chessboard to the new ring. He asked Jesse to go and get it. But Jesse stopped in the doorway, and suddenly made a startled announcement: "All 16 of its pawns are missing!"

The ref seemed annoyed, but Jesse was right. There was nothing in the other room but a boxing ring and chairs -- and the chess board where they'd left it, filled with half the usual pieces. All the other chess pieces were present -- each king and queen, plus the bishops, knights, and rooks. But there wasn't a single pawn. All 16 of them had been removed from the board.

"They were right here," said the ref.

"Someone must've stolen them," Gordon suggested.

"Is there another set of pieces lying around?"

"Sure, I always carry a spare chess set with me," Gordon said sarcastically.

"But who'd want to stop the chess boxing fights?"

"All of them," Gordon joked.

The referee was annoyed, and accused Gordon of stealing the pieces. "I was watching the door pretty closely, so I'm sure that at least you didn't go in that way. But I'm not sure you didn't sneak in there some other way."

Then he leaned over to Gordon and whispered, "And I wouldn't blame you. I wouldn't want my friend having to box this guy, either!"

"Any one of us could've slipped in there," Gordon countered. "They were all so busy studying chess openings or watching the tryouts."

The referee was worried -- but fortunately, he'd already figured out who'd stolen the chess pieces.