"Would you like to play a friendly game of chess?"

It was a crisp, cool morning. Marcus popped the cap off his heineken 22-ounce with his lighter. Frothy bubbles erupted from the neck and were promptly wiped away with his wizened hand. His gaze then returned to the chessboard where he was locked in intense combat. J-Smooth, his opponent, had just made an aggressive sacrifice with his bishop that had knocked a hole in what had previously been an airtight castled defense. J-Smooth eyed him warily in between drags of his Kool. He took the bishop with his king and placed it next to the empty bottle he had just drank. "Check", said J-Smooth, immediately moving his Queen to the Rook file. "That ain't shit", replied Marcus with a laugh, sliding his King back behind his Knight-pawn, "I got your defense". Internally though, he wasn't so sure, he had always preferred the attacking game, and it looked like this move was going to put him on the defense for awhile. As J-Smooth contemplated his next move, Marcus took a long swig off his beer and opened up the sports page next to him. Around him, birds chirped and the sun shone brightly. He had spent yesterday a local bar watching the NFL openers, and Monday night football debuted tonight with his team, the NFC Champion NY Giants taking on the Broncos. He liked Shockey and Strahan, but Tiki seemed to be about half-queer and too soft to carry them to the Super Bowl title the way Rodney Garner had. He sure hadn't done shit against the Ravens last year.

A shadow fell across the park, and both chess adversaries looked up to see a low-flying plane momentarily blot out the sun before continuing on its path. Thats odd... thought Marcus before looking back at his paper. J-Smooth then moved his knight closer to the frey, obviously trying to press his attack. Marcus put down the paper and studied the ancient game again. It was beautiful really, the struggle for territory, for supremacy of all squares. He wondered how many great leaders from history had played this game. He knew that Napoleon had played, but had not been all that good. He wondered if Bush knew how to play, he'd get his loot took down here at Central Park, that's for sure, but could he actually play? He guessed he'd never know. "If you just gonna sit there and stare all day nigga, hand me that paper", hissed J-Smooth, nonchalantly tossing his butt into the grass. "I'm thinking, somethin' you oughta start doing when you playin a grandmasta like me", he replied, tossing the paper over to him. "Damn, it's September 11th already?", said J-Smooth, "my girl's birthday is next week".

Here is a link to a good blog by a soldier stationed in Iraq.