Chess is the only game I know that can make me feel like an absolute genius in one minute and completely humiliated the next. It is a classic love-hate relationship. There are days when I want to delete my account, throw my computer out the window, and swear off the 64 squares forever.
Yet, without fail, a few hours later, or the very next morning, I find myself opening the app again, hitting “New Game,” and diving right back into the fire.
I am completely hooked. And despite the brutal ups and downs, I’ve set a major long-term mountain for myself: I want to hit a 2000 Elo rating.
The Love: The Pure Joy of Strategy
When chess is good, it’s beautiful. There is an incredible thrill in finding a subtle tactic your opponent missed, executing a flawless positional squeeze, or launching a successful king-side attack.
It feels like the ultimate test of pure intellect. There is no luck involved, no rolling dice, and no teammates to blame. It’s just your ideas versus their ideas. When you win a hard-fought game, the sense of accomplishment is unmatched. It rewards deep focus, patience, and creativity in a way few other hobbies do.
The Hate: The Brutal Psychological Toll
But then comes the other side of the coin. Chess is psychologically brutal.
Unlike almost any other game, when you lose a match in chess, you can’t blame bad luck or a glitch in the software. You lost because your opponent outthought you, or because you fell victim to a blind spot and hung a piece.
Blundering a winning position in a long, grueling game is a unique kind of pain. It immediately triggers a wave of self-doubt. You start questioning your calculation skills, your pattern recognition, and sometimes your overall intelligence. The emotional swing from a great win streak to a devastating tilting streak is exhausting. It’s a game that forces you to confront your flaws in real time, and honestly, sometimes that hurts.
Why I Keep Coming Back
So, why stay? Why subject myself to a game that causes so much frustration?
Because the struggle itself is addictive. Chess is a mirror of personal growth. The pain of a loss is exactly what drives the hunger to improve. Every mistake is a lesson, and every puzzle solved is a tiny bit of progress.
The journey to hitting 2000 Elo isn’t going to be a straight line. It’s going to involve hundreds of blunders, frustrating plateaus, and moments of absolute defeat. But that’s exactly what will make reaching that milestone feel so incredible. It’s a lifelong pursuit of mastery, and I’m entirely here for the ride, infuriating losses and all.
If you want to help me on my climb (or just take advantage of my next tilting streak), feel free to challenge me. You can find me on chess.com under my handle ujeshli.