Chess Hustlers - New Orleans (Pre-Katrina)

Hola, darlings. A hot, muggy night here at home. New Orleans is far away down the mighty Mississippi from where I live but (except for the bugs and floods), our weather tonight is probably similar. I wrote the following back in 2004, intending it to be part of an article I eventually did for Goddesschess, but this didn't make it into the final version. Since that time, Katrina happened... The following was written by an unnamed Cannuck who was visiting Sin City during a convention in 1995. (Things have not improved since then...) Learning of INFORMS the Hard Way! In anticipation of the marketing track of the Fall INFORMS Conference in Atlanta, some odd people, who are also tall, reminisce about last Fallin New Orleans [Asst. Ed.] Returning from New Orleans' French Quarter the night before the Fall '95 INFORMS conference, I stopped to watch a grizzled chess hustler collect winnings from his last chump, when a thirty-something challenger stepped up. Clocks were set at 5 minutes. With bewildering speed, the game evolved, each move punctuated with the bang of a chess-clock (switching one player's clock off and the other player's, on). Suddenly, the hustler paused. He picked up a piece, tried out a spot for size, thought better, and moved elsewhere. The hustler's subsequent tempo became erratic: lightning quick, one move, precious seconds expiring the next. Meanwhile, the challenger's prompt rhythm only varied when he called out, "Time." Dazed, the hustler picked up the clock and eyed it an inch or so from his face in an expression that seemed to say, "I'll be damned." For the next game, the right-handed hustler now sat with the clock to his right. Unlike the first game, the hustler endeavored to keep an even pace. But a massive exchange unexpectedly gave the challenger a pawn ready to become queen for his second victory. The hustler paid $10, shook hands, and suggested a rematch the next evening. "In a longer game, I'll have a better chance," he said. I approached the challenger and asked his Chess Federation Rating. "2300." A world master--only 1% of all competitive players are rated above 2200. I then watched the challenger make his way, with a similarly conservatively-dressed comrade, to the conference hotel. INFORMS had arrived in New Orleans, and a local chess-hustler had learned this fact the hard way.