USCF Mission / Chuck Ventimiglia
encouraged me to find one that worked for me. I became a Colle devotee.
A lifetime of chess knowledge, as if entangled in the webbed fingers of the brain tumor, was removed. with a full head.”
After an especially frustrating tourna - ment, Chuck encouraged me with his no-nonsense logic. “You play for a while, then you stop for a while, but you always come back. You know you’re always going to return to chess. So, why not just stick with it? Don’t give up. Keep learning.”
We lost touch for a while, but reconnect - ed when I found out about his brain tumor. After the surgery, he was in rehabilitation for seven months.
“I had to learn everything all over again,” he said. “It took a long time to get my speech back, but I knew exactly what was going on around me.”
evening to commiserate. After a few hours of talking about chess heroes, poli tics, sandbagging and cheats, I stumbled out of the bar. It was midnight. The chess store was still open as a late night round was wrapping up. The next morning, I rolled over in my hotel bed to see an eNotate device on my pillow. I barely remember purchasing it in my enfeebled condition. Chuck swore by his MonRoi, so I partially blame his influence and the shiraz.
Chuck was always teaching, mentoring.
“Blitz is good for learning and recogniz ing patterns. If you play blitz long enough, you can train your mind to recognize the pattern before you and instinctively know that there is something there.
“The real challenge is to discover the meaning behind the moves, i.e. what’s it accomplishing. I like correspondence chess as a way to learn.
“I do not want to lose games but that is not my priority. My priority is just to com pete and play a decent game. Like Rocky said, ‘I just want to go the distance!’
“Memorizing lines is not my style. It is best to learn a few opening moves and then improve your tactics.”
He swore by the London System, and
Chuck couldn’t walk for a long time. Now, he can walk unassisted, but he has to be careful. He’s fallen down three times since returning home. He also recovered from a bout of pneumonia, which con cerned him. All of this medical hand wring ing has taken a toll. Chuck is an independent person, and he doesn’t like feeling helpless.
“My wife is going to drive me everywhere. It’s frustrating. I don’t know how else to put it.”
Chuck and his wife have been married for over 40 years. Her support during the recovery was invaluable. She stayed with him every step of the way. She slept in the hospital while he was there, right next to him on a blow-up bed.
“I have to say I don't think I could have got through without her. Was it hard on her? Yeah, it was hard on her. It was hard on both of us.”
I asked Chuck about chess.
“It's been hard,” he confessed. “I have friends who play. I haven’t been down to the chess club since I’ve been back. I don’t like to make a fool out of myself.”
Instead, he plays chess on his iPad, but admits that he’s playing horribly. While I’m talking to him on the phone, I can hear the game in the background. He occasionally grumbles about the game in progress.
“The first thing that goes when you have a brain tumor is your impulse controls,” Chuck explains. “I move without thinking. That gets me in a lot of problems. That’s the difficult part about me playing chess. Chess is a thinking person’s game. I’m not playing
Out of curiosity, I looked at some of his finished games on
Chess.com. He’s not the same player. I see loss after loss. In some situations, the time ran out. Maybe Chuck lost track or interest? Maybe he was frustrated with a losing position? But in other instances, he ran out of time while still in an even position. In one game, his comment about impulse control rings true. He went after a defended pawn with his bish op, losing his minor piece with no real compensation. Soon, both rooks were lost to a bishop fork on one side of the board, and then the same maneuver on the other side. 36 moves later, his king stood alone in the middle of the board, surround ed by his oppo nent’s pieces, checkmated.
It was the kind of game that makes you want to give up. But we never do. I’ve been there. What is it about chess players, that we are willing to endure such abuse? Hopefully, that tenacity may extend to Chuck’s recovery.
I’d like for this to be a redemption story where he builds himself up better than before through a series of training mon - tages set to “Eye of the Tiger.” This isn’t that story. Chuck will probably never be the same player that repeatedly beat me a few years ago. And selfishly, I admit that it’s a shame, because that is the opponent I want to face.
We know our bodies deteriorate. Most young athletes cannot play the sport they love into their old age. Our bodies fail us. It’s a familiar narrative. However, as chess players, we assume that our minds can hold out a little longer. Even in my old age, I hope I can still play chess. The tumor and subsequent surgery deprived Chuck of chess at the level he once enjoyed. Yes, we learn in our losses. But for Chuck, this loss may be the cruelest. It’s hard to accept the position he’s been given.
“The only thing I can say is be happy for what you have every day,” Chuck said. “I don't know what else to say.”
I ask him how he feels about his experience.
“It’s very—what the hell is the word I’m thinking about. I don’t know. It’s very ...”
He pauses, frustrated, trying to find the right combination of words like searching for an impossible pawn move to break open the game.
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PHOTOS: COURTESY OF SUBJECT
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