Playing Blind

Ah, my sheetrock of shame. Three smashed computer mice. Have I ever mentioned how good it felt to do that? Chess and I had a good run. Then I walked away for a few months ["Now I Can Quit Chess," June 27]. Recently, I found that I missed it, so I needed to figure out how to fix the relationship. The problem was simple: chess made me feel bad more often than good. Losses hurt more than wins helped. I’d get stun-locked watching my rating drop, and it made me feel stupid. Unrated games weren’t the answer either. People play crazy bullshit in unrated games. Time away showed me what was really going on. My rating felt like an objective, public measurement of my intelligence. That’s why I quit right after a lucky streak on a new account pushed me to 1900. I knew it would probably never happen again. I’m really more of a 1400 player. Quitting let me keep that number forever, fixed in amber. But what did that 1900 actually mean? It wasn’t a degree. It certified nothing. Rating doesn’t measure…