Hyde Park chess garden Stop. Sydney Stop. 1330hours Stop………………………
He is a Russian all good chess players are Russian, I am told. I have decided to call him Bunny Botnovik.
He considers himself a chess genius. He has what it takes, great concentration, commitment and an unfailing belief in his powers of persuasion.
Emotionally he’s a minimalist.
He watches and waits under the Strangler Fig, apart from the other chess geniuses. Relentlessly sipping and puffing on his smoke. Can you get RSI from smoking? His eyes squint blue. He commands “Coffee.” A player leaves the game.
Bunny waits. The player returns, coffee outstretched. Motivated by his desire to appear maladjusted to the outside world, Bunny takes the coffee, eye contact and without thanks. He sips it as furiously as he sipped the smoke.
Later he scratches his beard, throws the cup, saunters to a pawn and kicks it to buggery. The player groans, “I’m an idiot.” Bunny nods, pulls a red cigarette packet from his crisp white shirt and a matching red lighter from the band on his leather cowboy hat. He doesn’t smile.