It's 1983. All Army Chess Championship, Fort Meade, Maryland. Rating 1420. Ranked 34 out of 35 of the U.S. Army's best chess players present. Quietly watching Klaus Brosius, Chief TD, manipulate his pairing cards for Round Two. He pauses and looks at me.
"You have a question, don't you?"
I nod my head.
"You want to know how you got here?"
I nod again.
"I reviewed and approved the application packets for everyone here. I looked at your packet. All those tournaments you played on Friday nights at Caisson Recreation Center. Your record keeping. Your attention to detail. Your results. You being the tournament director and playing, too. I could care less about you being a tournament director. I can teach a monkey to be a tournament director!"
He paused.
"It was the shear volume of chess activity that got you here. You, Sir, are a chess player! If nothing else, you are here as a reward!"
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