Dad taught me how to play at around age 8 or so. Played through high school, and I’m bringing my board to the law school occasionally to play against friends between classes.
I’ll wager that you won’t find many folks who were taught how to play by mom; perhaps women from our parents’ generation just didn’t play chess.
I’m just like your friends, my father taught me. I guess I must have been about 6 or so. I never became an extremely avid player, though, although I hold my own. Or at least I used to…
I taught myself. I’m not what they call a major threat. Matter of fact, if chess were like getting mugged in a alley, I wouldn’t even get bothered I suck so bad.
My father taught me when I was 7. He felt the only way I’d ever really learn was never to soften up his attack.
I finally beat him when I was 11.
I had a college roommate whose brother taught him. And when he decided my roommate had a really short attention span for chess, he tied him to the chair.
When I was about 7 or 8 my school had a little day camp during the summer. One of the councilers, who I think was in high school, taught me. I don’t remember his name. Neither of my parents play.
My father plays, but believe or not he never taught me and we’ve never even played :eek:.
I actually learned at a summer program for gifted :rolleyes: kids at a local college; it was one of the classes offered. That was the summer between 5th & 6th grade, so I would have been 10-11ish.
Also, to answer the OP: I think that fathers who know how to play chess should teach their sons (and daughters :D) to play chess, in the same way that they should teach them to ride their bikes, tie their shoes, etc. It’s a bonding thing, but it’s also a way to teach a valuable skill.
I know I’m looking forward to teaching Rasta Jr. to play chess. That is, if there ever is a Rasta Jr.
The 1964 World Book Encyclopedia (which I always referred to as a child when I had an unanswered question). I then cut out 32 little squares of paper and drew rooks, knights, etc. on them and challenged my Dad to a game. He whupped me, then bought me a real chess set.
I was something like five or six. I think my dad taught me how to move the pieces, though I learned to kick everyone’s ass (I was REALLY good for my age until about junior high or so) by reading chess books.
My first chess book might not have been authored by Fred Reinfeld, but of the first dozen or so I read, at least 10 were. Reinfeld rocked!
My dad was my first regular opponent, though. Within a few months of learning the game, I could beat him like a drum before he wouldn’t play me anymore.
My poor dad, of course, just like he taught me poker and blackjack and the benefit of leading with a left jab. I taught my daughter all these, except for the left jab, for which I’ve substituted a non-incarceratable restraining hold once taught me by a police officer married to a friend of my first wife. Not being my geneticaly flawed natural daughter but rather the product of my second wife’s prior relationship, my daughter’s natural aptitiude easily surpassed me in her tenth year. To my credit, when she beat me for the first time I didn’t, Great Santini-like, keep bouncing the king off her forehead while saying “go ahead and squirt a few!”
My dad taught me when I was 8 or 9, and like some others here on the board, I was beating him regularly within months.
Dad’s knowledge was imperfect, though. He didn’t teach me (because he didn’t know about) en passant, castling, queen-starts-on-her-color, or even the universally-known “two rooks” rule.
I picked up all that later from my first cousin Jon, who was eleven years my senior.
Snooooopy, I don’t know of the “Chess for Girls” sketch. Please share with the class.
