I observe the other platforms, as I ride the tram. I image for the rails to be infinitely connected throughout the entire world. The fact, that this is not real, keeps me from fading into a dream world. Just like the finite rail network, the cosmos of chess is limited. The automated tape announcement in the tram reminds me of having reached the train station – my destination. Smoking people gather tightly at the main entrance and silently puff their cigarettes. Not a sight of heated discussions like at the most recent elections of the World Association.
Consistently, like the rigid rail network, I approach the shop with printed papers and gaze at the current publications of my interest. It’s fascinating how many papers are produced for the German chess’s sake and how fragmented this community of readers seems. I pick one or two magazines and aim for the cash register. Lost in my thoughts, I wonder how far in the future the last of these newspaper stores will have vanished and whether or not I will miss them. Probably so. ‘Don’t forget – no cheating!’ am I reminded by the cashier, who smiles at my choice of magazines. A little confused, I hand her them to her and don’t dare asking what made her believe the contents of these publications would serve as cheat- sheets or whether that is her actual impression of the sport. I pay, stow the papers in my backpack and leave the store.
Outside, I find myself waved at by a woman holding a 5€ bill. Out of curiosity I stop and listen to her request: She needs change for the ticket vending machine. As I hand her coin by coin and in exchange slide the bill into my pocket, my eyes travel across the station clock. Damn, I’m five minutes late and the unpleasant feeling of a shortage in time occupies my mind, while I hurry towards my next destination. Doing this, I already have the idea of making these few minutes of my morning the content for my next blog..
written by Frank, translated by Birthe