The following is a eulogy written for Bobby Fischer at the behest of the Fischer family estate. Notation for the delivery of the speech in Iceland is included.
(wait for applause to subside)
Bobby Fischer.
B-O-B-B-Y. F-I-S-------wait for it----C---H-E-R. Unusual spelling, huh, gang? With a "C."
Shocking news from the chess world always brings me out of hiding, even if it is to have a bootleg tet-a-tet (in defiance of international sanctions) with ya'll ice boners. When they asked me to write Bob's eulogy, I was pleased as punch. Sure, I never met the grandmaster or whatever, but I feel like I was tapped due to my sincere love of board games. Growing up, I never really gave a shit about chess--until I found out that Chess King sold Cavaricci pants at the mall--But Bob did give a shit about chess, man. I mean he really played the shit out of it.
Shocking news from the chess world always brings me out of hiding, even if it is to have a bootleg tet-a-tet (in defiance of international sanctions) with ya'll ice boners. When they asked me to write Bob's eulogy, I was pleased as punch. Sure, I never met the grandmaster or whatever, but I feel like I was tapped due to my sincere love of board games. Growing up, I never really gave a shit about chess--until I found out that Chess King sold Cavaricci pants at the mall--But Bob did give a shit about chess, man. I mean he really played the shit out of it.
They say that Bobby Fischer had one
of the greatest minds, if not the greatest ass in chess.(shuffle notecards indicating aw-shucks confusion) Which is impressive and all, but Dwayne, the guy who works at the mobile phone store down the street and sells deeply-discounted name-brand stereo speakers out of the back of his van, has a great mind for cellular phones, available features and rate plans and such, with an even greater mind for Backgammon, whatever the fuck that is. Which is more impressive, asks I? Why did I just write a Popeye sentence? (wait for laughter to subside) I mean the chess thing is pertinent in a relative manner, as such and not withstanding....life. Somewhere along the way, chess became some sort of self-important game that nerd people liked playing with other nerd people and the homeless and communists and then, out of nowhere, bullshit computers. A chess player is typically a maladjusted male, non-blogger, from Europe or is some sort of wizard with the inter
personal skills set of a video arcade clerk in Wyandotte, Michigan(use Yoda voice fo
r affect): "You can't get pure gaming from that! I suggest you try Donkey Kong and quit wasting your tokens on something as pedestrian as Bubble Bobble. I'll give you 10 credits for two dollars...cash, I will." I mean what's so awesome about that shit? Muffin. Speaking of which, refreshments will be served shortly after the service--I hear the crullers are just dynamite- better than Tim Horton's. Making the Iceland/Canada connection....North America. I live on that continent.
Iceland! I mean out of all the places to be found in the world! Bob has staked his claim as one of Iceland's greatest! Bjork....15 active volcanoes...geothermal spas...ice...just too many great things to mention about this place. But now Bobby Fischer will be on that list of awesome Iceland. So in conclusion, as it goes, the world still turns and people still will search vigilantly for Bobby Fischer, even if all they find is just some regular-ty
pe kid who can play chess awesome and who's dad looks like Joe Mantegna. (pause)
And before I go try to eat fermented whale with the eskimos, a suggestion for Bobby Fischer's epitaph:
IT'S THERE....IT'S SEVEN MOVES AHEAD, BUT IT'S THE
RE!
Wait! I mean
CHECKMATE, BITCH!
0 comments:
Post a Comment