KNIGHTS AND KNOCKS: CHESS AND MUAY THAI MASTERS

BRUCE COCKBURN, ELLEN FROESE, AND THE DEEP DARK WOODS

 

REGINA FOLK FESTIVAL

Wandering about the Regina Folk Festival all weekend I had mainly chess and Muay Thai on my mind.  In just a couple weeks I'm introducing KNIGHTS and KNOCKS (chess in the mornings and Muay Thai in the afternoons) as part of our contracted educational mandate to help reduce recidivism among the 17, 18, and 19 year old young offenders in our charge.  Not-so-strangely, I decided I needed a political argument of sorts that would link the two seeming disparate ventures into one common philosophy.  After snapping a couple photos of the Canadian iconic folkster, Bruce Cockburn, I had a flash ... (pun intended).   

To begin, both chess and Muay Thai can easily and simply be conceptualized by a few philosophical perspectives; however, the main emphasis of this essay relates to only a few relevant insights inspired by both practices, maybe even leading my readers and myself to a transformation of views about a variety of complex human phenomena.

Chess is a two-player strategy board game played on a checkered board with 64 squares arranged in an 8×8 grid.  The game of chess is played by millions of people worldwide.  It is generally believed that Chess originated in India sometime before the 7th century.

Muay Thai  is a two-player stand-up of striking fists and feet and with various clinching techniques.  Also known as the Art of Eight Limbs, Muay Thai is characterized by the combined use of fists and feet (as mentioned), but also elbows, knees and shins.  Like chess, Muay Thai, too, is practiced by millions of people worldwide.  Generally it is believed that Muay Thai originated in Siam sometime before the 14^th Century. 

In chess the first thing a student should do is get familiar 

with all of the pieces, and all of the powers and limitations of each of those pieces.  In Muay Thai, the first thing a student should do is learn all of the basic fist and foot movements, and all of the powers and limitations of the specific punches and kicks. 

Analogous to both chess and Muay Thai are the prescribed game plans.   Keep in mind that any plan is better than no plan, but imagining a precise master plan for each match is for pragmatic reasons, too lofty as a goal.  Also keep in mind what Mike Tyson said: “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” 

Knowing that a master plan is really an employment of several smaller plans is the route to go.  The smaller plans are the pruning plans.  Smaller plans add direction and offer a sense of security. 

Once who you know your opponent is, just know that your opponent, too, will have plans.   Know, too, that for every good plan you have there will be a counter plan from your opponent. The ability to adapt and rethink your plan on the fly is the key to your winning or losing the match.  The faster your plan reacts to change the better your chance for success. 

Knowing and recognizing your opponent’s patterns is very important.  Recognizing patterns can set your plan in motion.  Only by recognizing patterns can will you be able to prune and exert your smaller game plans.

Just be good at what you do.  But being good at what you do takes practice.  Deliver to your opponent all the moves you know that you’re good at.  And the only way to get good is to practice, practice, and practice some more.  Perfect practice makes perfect engineering.  And you need close to perfect engineering to defeat any opponent.

Because you are matched against other humans, blunders are bound to happen. It is important to eye your opponent’s errors, and checking too, yourself, before deciding on counter-moves.  Be aware of the opponents’ patterns of errors, so when you have the chance you can capitalize on them (capitalize being my token sports cliché for today).

In summary, to defeat your opponent in either chess or Muay Thai, it is imperative that your principle tactics include planning, proficiency, practice, and counter-patterns.

If Muay Thai is the art of eight limbs, punches (fists), kicks (feet), elbows, and knees, then chess is the art of twelve limbs, counting fingers and elbows.   (This comparison is lame I know, but in my attempted wit I digress.)

Both endeavors are arts of the mind.  To be a master in either takes both time and talent.  Talent, I’m beginning to believe, is really a synonym for intelligence.

Angela Duckworth of the University of Pennsylvania writes:

Talent … is the rate at which you get better with effort. The rate at which you get better at soccer is your soccer talent. The rate at which you get better at math is your math talent. You know, given that you are putting forth a certain amount of effort. And I absolutely believe—and not everyone does, but I think most people do—that there are differences in talent among us: that we are not all equally talented (Duckworth, 2016).

Aficionados for either chess or Muay Thai seem to rise above the nondescript purpose of being.   Having affinities for either of these practices prompts the stiction to develop personal action signatures for one’s positive and social well-being.

All of the above notions, save for one dissimilarity, can certainly relate to the art and idiosyncrasy of busking.  Planning when and where to busk are essential for success.  The hours when and where the pedestrian are thickest, such as the noon hours at lunch spots and supper hours at grocery outlets, are usually the most lucrative.  Proficiency, too, is important.  One has to play well and present accordingly to make a money-worthy impression.  And to become familiar with when and where and how to busk takes practice, practice, practice.  With regard to counter-patterns, chess and Muay Thai need opponents; busking needs an audience.  This seems the only dissimilarity that distinguishes busking from chess and Muay Thai. 

Time for true confessions:  I assert that I am a busker, not an academic.  Admittedly, I am a faux busker.   I am not a brutto tempo busker; I never freeze or fry because of the weather.  

Certainly, I cannot assert with any conscience that I am a Muay Thai master; I am but a tyro.  And I certainly cannot assert that I am a chess master; I do not even know how to play.  I know only because of the old television western, Have Gun Will Travel, that I recognize Paladin’s trademark, Knight, from his business card and gun holster, as being a chess piece. 

PALADIN

I do fancy myself as a certified and self-described Buskologist, an authority on the art of busking.  Excluding hecklers I never have opponents, only consumers.  And those consumers are continually prompting my game plans.  My master plan is to travel from country to country with my guitar and harp or my didgeridoo or my sketchpad and pencil.  My smaller is always to entertain as best I can.    

Wherever there are crowds is where I busk.  Pedestrian traffic dictates my specific destination, and open roads dictate my romantic and delusional and narcissistic dream of being a planetary busker.
    
Marching in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this week:

BARON AND I WERE ACTUALLY IN A PARADE THIS WEEK (REGINA EXHIBITION PARADE)

TRAVERS, BARON, AND NATIKA (MY KIDS) CROSSING ABBEY ROAD