Valentine's Day was just days away, and Marvin J. Mavin, superstar Captain of the Detroit Doublejumpers in the National Checker League, knew he had better come up with something.

He and his wife, Priscilla Snelson, who was the high-powered CEO of the giant Detroit based international conglomerate Rust Belt Holdings, had been married now for just over a year and a half. Marvin was on the road for the first Valentine's Day of his marriage, and, well, he sort of forgot to get a gift. Or send flowers. Or as much as make a phone call. Priscilla had, to say the least, not been amused, and Marvin had been in the doghouse for some little while.

Now, Priscilla wasn't the easiest person to please, and she had expensive tastes (see our earlier stories about her engagement ring). So a simple gift wouldn't do at all. But the problem was that Priscilla had everything, and with her $50 million annual salary (plus bonuses, of course) she could afford just about anything many times over that Marvin could manage on his relatively paltry $10 million per year.

Marvin was at home on a Monday. The Doublejumpers had one day off before starting a match with the Denver Dundees the following day. That match would run through Thursday, followed by Valentine's Day off. Priscilla, of course, was at work. Monday through Thursday, Priscilla worked from about 7 AM until at least 7 PM.

Marvin had a little time to think about an appropriate gift. He had been reading the latest issue of All Checkers Digest and had found an interesting problem.

"No," Marvin said to himself, "a gift first." So he browsed the internet, looking first at expensive jewelry. But Priscilla didn't need another necklace or bracelet or earrings. Maybe an ankle bracelet? "Nah, she never wears stuff like that."

Marvin started looking at catalogs from art dealers. Priscilla's 5,000 square foot upscale condo featured a few originals by well-known contemporary artists. But when Marvin saw the prices, he knew he had better keep looking.

He spent nearly two hours. Jewelry? No. Artwork? No. Clothing? No. A new car? Priscilla had a whole fleet of cars and she replaced them with new ones every year.

Marvin, his eyes tired and his mind exhausted, didn't know what to do.

And then it came to him.

Marvin and Priscilla had been to a holiday event at the upscale restaurant, Le Menu Magnifique and Marvin decided to take Priscilla there for Valentine's Day. He had to pull a few strings to get a reservation on such a busy day, but as Marvin was a checker superstar the restaurant was willing to accommodate him.

Priscilla was unusually pleased. "How nice of you, Marvin," she said when he told her about it, "I'm sure we'll have a great time."

Marvin, whose tastes ran more to hot dogs and beer than haute cuisine and fine wine, wasn't so sure, but he wanted to please his wife, and seemed to have hit the mark.

"We'll take my limo," Priscilla said, "so you won't have to drive the Lexus. That car is a little too ordinary for the occasion."

Marvin's old Volkswagen was a thing of the past; Priscilla had bought him a Lexus and that's what he now drove. "I could drive the Rolls," he suggested.

"No, I don't think so." Priscilla's Rolls Royce, as well as her Jaguar, Mazeratti, Aston Martin, and Ferrari, were cars that she alone drove.

At the restaurant, they shared appetizers of Escargot a la Maison and Crevettes du Roi, along with glasses of Chablis. For dinner, Priscilla ordered Coq au Vin and Marvin, Steak au Poivre. The waiter looked surprised and asked why they were ordering such pedestrian fare, but a glare from Priscilla stopped him in his tracks. They had a nice Burgundy with their "plats."

Dessert, of course, was taken from a selection of patisserie. Then there was coffee and cognac. Finally, the time came for Marvin to present his gift.

"I have something for you, sweetheart," Marvin said.

"I was starting to wonder," Priscilla replied. "You're quite good at forgetting on gift giving occasions."

"Not this time!" Marvin smiled. "It was kinda hard, seeing like, you know, you already got so much stuff and all. But--- well, anyhoo, here you go."

Marvin reached into an inner pocket of his suit jacket, and brought forth a business letter sized envelope. On the front he had written, "Priscilla." He handed it to his wife.

"I was gonna write 'Prissy' only on account of you don't like that so much I wrote 'Priscilla.'

"How nice of you," Priscilla replied, the edge in her voice clear. But then she smiled and opened the envelope.

Inside was a sheet of letter paper. She unfolded it and saw the following, printed in 12-point Times New Roman.

Oh, my dear love, how vast this heart does swell,
Each beat a song that sings of you alone.
In every glance, in every word, you tell
A truth that makes my soul feel fully known.

Your smile, a light that brightens up the day,
Your touch, a warmth that comforts through the night.
With you, the world's a place where I can stay,
Where every moment feels so pure and right.

The stars above seem dim compared to you,
Your love, a force that guides me through the storm.
Together, all our dreams are born anew,
In your embrace, I find my truest form.

On this sweet day, my heart is yours to keep,
A love so deep, it wakes me from my sleep.

"This is a sonnet," Priscilla said. "Did you actually write this, Marvin?"

"Well, uh ... well, not exactly write it," he said. "I uh ... um ... yeah ... "

"Oh my goodness," Priscilla said. "You got this off of one of those AI sites, didn't you? It's so sappy it's beyond even a HatchMark greeting card ... no poet would ever write stuff as bad as this."

"Don't you like it? I couldn't think of nothing to give you so I thought, like, something personal from me ... "

"Personal? From you? When you had a computer write it? This is a joke, right? You have a real gift for me, I assume?"

"Uh well, like I said, there ain't nothing you don't already got so, uh, I guess that's it."

"That's my Valentine's gift? A lousy computer sonnet?" Priscilla threw her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. As she stood up, she said, "Sometimes I wonder why I married you, Marvin. I'm taking the limo home now. You can pay the check and then take the bus for all I care. Well, here's something from me to you--- from the same source." Priscilla tapped on her cell phone for a moment and then texted Marvin the following lines as she made an angry exit from the restaurant.

Roses are red, but my patience is thin,
I'm tired of your games, I'm done with your spin.
You promised a gift, but you lied through your teeth,
Now I'm standing here, feeling bitter beneath.

You say you care, but your actions don't show,
Your empty words cut deeper than you know.
I gave you my heart, but you threw it away,
Now I'm counting the moments til you're out of my day.

Valentine's feels like a cruel little joke,
When your love is a flame that just up and broke.
So here's to the truth, though it's hard to admit---
I'm angry, I'm hurt, and I'm done with this bit.

Happy Valentine's, if that's what you need---
Just know I'm moving on, I've planted the seed.

Marvin, now sitting alone at the table, muttered, "I just don't get women sometimes."

---

We should note that we actually did use an AI site to generate the truly terrible sonnets above. (We did a little editing as one line was not suitable for all audiences.) We disdain, however, to use AI to produce even a single word of our columns and stories.

Marvin is once more in hot water. That seems to be a recurring problem for him. But speaking of problems, the one he was looking at in All Checkers Digest is quite interesting. Why don't you give it a try? When you're ready you can click on Read More to see the solution. And--- we do hope you didn't forget that special someone on Valentine's Day, and we also hope you avoided computer generated poetry.

[Read More]

Sal Westerman, the unofficial leader of the Bismarck, North Dakota's Coffee and Cake Checker Club couldn't believe his eyes.

It was a cold Saturday afternoon in February, 1955, and his club's weekly meeting was about to start. His little group got together at 1 PM each week at the Beacon Cafe in the Provident Life Building on Rosser Avenue, from just after Labor Day to just before Memorial Day. The club members, or "boys" as Sal called them, were almost all over 50 years of age and enjoyed solving problems, playing skittles, talking checkers, and sampling fabulous baked treats homemade by the Cafe's proprietress, Deana Nagel.

Sal had just made the 10 minute walk from his home to the Cafe. He was cold and anxious to go into the warmth of the Cafe, but what did he see?

A picket line!

About half a dozen middle aged protesters were marching back and forth in front of the Cafe, holding signs lettered with the folllowing messages.

"Checkers --- the Game of Communists!"

"Think of the Children --- Ban Checkers Now!"

"Checkers --- The Ruin of the American Way!"

"National Service, not Checkers!"

"Patriots Don't Play Checkers!"

Sal, bewildered, approached the front door of the Cafe, but several of the protesters bumped into the old gentleman and nearly sent him sprawling.

Deana, inside the Cafe observing what was happening, came through the door and roughly shoved a couple of protesters aside, making a path for Sal to enter. It seemed as if violence could possibly erupt but Deana quickly closed and locked the door behind her.

"I've called the police," she said to a flustered Sal, whose face was red and who didn't look well. "Sit down, Sal," she continued, "catch your breath. Those people should know better than to jostle an elderly person."

Sure enough, two police cars arrived a few minutes later and four burly policemen exited.

"You're blocking a public sidewalk," one of them was heard to tell the protesters. "Disperse at once or be arrested."

There were a few angry shouts from the protesters and one of them looked as if he was about to swing his sign at one of the police officers, but when he noticed the officer's hand resting on his service revolver holster, he thought better of it.

The protesters kept shouting but they all walked away, likely headed home to get out of the cold themselves. The police officers left without any further incidents taking place.

"What was all that?" Deana asked.

"There was something in the newspaper this morning," Sal said, "but I didn't know it would come to this. I certainly didn't think they would know about our club meetings."

Now that the sidewalk was cleared, a few of the boys started to come into the cafe. Dan and Wayne were first; they mentioned to Sal that they had almost gone back home when they saw the angry group of picketeers, but then when they police arrived they decided to wait it out. Tom and Larry arrived next, followed by Mike and Delmer. They all listened as Sal recapped the newspaper story.

"It seems that these folks are kind of leftovers from the McCarthy days," Sal began. The boys nodded; they certainly recalled the "Red Scare" that had only come to an end a year or so ago.

Sal continued, "Somehow they think the red and white checker pieces are really symbolic of the Red Russians and the White Russians, from back in the days of the Russian Revolution. Obviously the Reds came out on top. What this has to do with checkers is beyond me, but the article goes on to talk about how the group thinks checkers is a Communist plot to distract Americans from our democratic principles, our American work ethic, and so on. They say anyone who plays checkers is a Red, even if they play the white pieces."

The boys all laughed at that, but it was a nervous sort of laughter.

"Unbelievable," Mike said, "and don't they realize most of us served during the war?" (Editor's note: See our previous Veterans' Day story.)

"Shades of Harvey Hopkins," said Dan, referring to a late 19th century Chicago checkerist who said that nighttime baseball caused youth to degenerate, "except it's checkers instead of baseball, and it's Communism instead of crime."

"No doubt they don't like baseball either," said Delmer, "after all one of the teams is named the Red Sox."

"So what should we do?" said Dan. "The idea of them picketing in front of Deana's cafe isn't a pretty thought."

"Bad for business," Deana said from behind her counter. "I suppose they think cafes are Communist, too, because sometimes I use red food coloring in my baking."

"What's more serious," Sal said, "is their wanting to ban checkers from our schools. We all know that chess and checkers aids mental development, problem solving skills, and a lot more, but this group likely wouldn't agree."

"We need to all show up at that school board hearing next month," Mike said. "We have to make our case about checkers as a force for good rather than whatever they're making it out to be."

"The work of the Commies," said Wayne.

"What about Deana?" Sal asked. "We need to do something for her, too."

"I appreciate the thought, boys," Deana said, "but there's no need. On Monday I'm getting hold of my lawyer and we'll get a Temporary Restraining Order. One of them shoved Sal and I won't stand for it. I won't have any problem convincing the judge to grant the order. But hey, aren't you boys here for checkers? Come on, get with it; there's blueberry crumble today and we all could use a treat. On the house today." Deana paused a minute. "Although I suppose I should have served Red Rice as a lunch special."

The boys laughed again. "Thanks, Deana!" they said in unison.

"You're right, Deana," said Sal. "Let's not let the hooligans spoil our checker fun. I've got a nice problem for you boys to solve this afternoon, and no one has to worry about paying, thanks to Deana." The tradition was that Sal would show a problem, and if the boys (all of whom but one were at least 50 years old) solved it, Sal would buy treats; if they couldn't solve it, they would buy for Sal and his wife Sylvia.

Sal laid out the following position on one of the checkerboards.

"We had a bit of a late start," he said, "so how about we keep it to 45 minutes?" But there was no response as the boys were already deep in study.

When the analysis was in full swing, Sal went over to Deana's counter and slipped her a $5 bill. "Nice of you to offer to treat," he said, "but I owe you for calling the police when things could have turned ugly."

"Thanks, Sal," Deana said. She then refilled everyone's coffee and after 45 minutes, Sal called 'time.'

---

Is anyone claiming checkers has an evil political side where you are? We'd be surprised if that were the case, and we certainly hope never to see such a thing. But we suppose anything is possible.

What should surely be possible is for you to solve today's problem, and we ask you to give it your best try. When you're ready, don't protest; just click your mouse on Read More to see the solution and the brief conclusion to our story. And do note that our diagram shows white and black pieces, not white and red.

[Read More]

Have you ever been unsure about something? We all have. Not everything in life is certain. Sometimes we just give something our best effort and let the chips fall as they will.

Being unsure and having things work out is great. But that can be taken a step further. We can do something and have it work out all the while not knowing why we did what we did and why it worked out. Some might call this luck. Others might call it hidden intuition. However everyone, we would think, would welcome a positive outcome.

Regular contributor Lloyd Gordon of Toronto won in the following position against "Gosh Josh" Gordon in one of their nightly over the board contests. Lloyd's comment was, "I won without even knowing what the move did."

This one isn't difficult at all and we think it qualifies nicely for a traditional beginning of the month speed problem. We do, however, suggest that you try to have an idea of what your candidate moves may do. See how quickly you find the win, knowing for sure that clicking on Read More will show you the solution.

[Read More]

With the holidays having come and gone for another year, Marvin J. Mavin, the superstar Captain of the Detroit Doublejumpers of the National Checker League, was back on the road.

The League teams didn't play between Christmas and New Year's Day, but the schedule resumed in earnest right afterward, and the Doublejumpers had traveled to Winnipeg, Manitoba, for a three match series with the Winnipeg Wyllies.

Now, Winnipeg in the winter is seriously cold, and January is the coldest month of all. Marvin didn't know how this series got scheduled, but with outside temperatures staying around -10F most of the time, Marvin certainly felt the cold. He barely was able to warm up even indoors, as the hardy Canadians who resided in Winnipeg were used to cold weather and kept indoor temperatures well below 65F.

The Wyllies were a good enough team but not quite a match for the Doublejumpers, and the visiting Detroit team took the first two matches easily enough. Those matches were played at the Winnipeg Convention Centre, which was heated to 60F, still chilly for Marvin, but he made up for it by wearing a heavy woolen sweater.

The third match, though, was going to be different. It was to be part of a winter tradition of having an outdoor event at the coldest time of the year. The match would be played on the frozen ice of the Red River. Limited temporary seating had been arranged and tickets sold out long in advance.

But that wasn't all. Part of the tradition involved setting up portable saunas on the bank of the river, and then cutting a three foot diameter circular hole in the ice, which was a couple of feet thick. Players were expected to spend about 15 minutes in the sauna, and then run out and dive into the hole in the ice, immersing themselves in the frigid water before coming back out, drying off and quickly dressing, and then starting their checker match.

"It's what they do in Scandanavia," the event organizers pointed out. "It's invigorating and refreshing, and sharpens your thinking so you can play your best!"

Marvin tried to opt out but all expectations were that he would participate, and he didn't want to make too much of a fuss given all the trouble he had had with the League over the past months (see previous stories).

The next day came and Marvin was due to enter one of the saunas at 10 in the morning; an early start was necessary as darkness comes early to Winnipeg in the winter. The team bus took everyone down to the assigned place on the river bank.

"Where do I change?" Marvin asked one of the attendants, when Marvin reached Sauna #7.

"Oh, right out here," the attendant said, "we didn't bother with changing rooms because it's just a one-time thing."

"But it's freezing out!"

"Sure, but you'll warm up, the sauna's nice and hot."

Marvin quickly took off his heavy winter parka, gloves, boots, and outer garments, and put on the robe and slippers offered by the attendant. He hustled into the sauna, already shivering.

Inside it was gloriously warm, with steamy, humid air. Marvin relaxed at once on a wooden bench and nearly fell asleep. But a quarter of an hour later the sauna door abruptly opened. The attendant leaned in and said, "Out you go! Time for your dip in the river! Robes off please!"

Marvin slipped off his robe and poked his head out the door. "Time's passing!" the attendant said. "Right this way!" He pointed to a path in the snow leading down to the river.

"You're kidding ... " Marvin began, but the attendant pulled on his arm and soon Marvin was out in the cold air dressed only in slippers and an undergarment.

"Run, boy," said the attendant, "it's better if you do."

Marvin, faced with no option, ran faster than he had probably ever run in his life. But he pulled up short when he reached the hole in the ice."

"In you go!" said another attendant and before Marvin knew it, he had plunged into the hole and down into the super-cold water. It was as if a thousand needles had punctured his body. He let out a yelp as he submerged, but quickly closed his mouth to avoid letting the icy water in. As fast as he could recover he pulled himself up and the attendant helped him out, wrapping him a in large towel.

"Now, back up to the bank!" the man said. Marvin, shivering nearly uncontrollably, again ran at top speed. Up on the bank, a change of clothing and his winter gear awaited him.

He was given a cup of hot chocolate, but no sooner than he could drink it, it was time for him to go back on the ice--- this time, at least, fully clothed in winter garb--- to begin his match.

His opponent was already waiting at Board One. The man's name was Casmir Stonkoluk and he was reputed to be a rough character as well as a skilled professional checkerist. Casmir took one look at Marvin and said, "Enjoy your little winter adventure? I thought it was fun and put me in a mood to get even for the last two matches." Marvin had defeated Casmir twice in a row in the earlier matches of the series.

"I need more hot chocolate," was all Marvin could say as he gave Casmir a quite shaky handshake.

"Cold, are you? Well this is going to be one cold day for you, my American friend, 'cause I'm going to knock you cold--- on the checkerboard, I mean! Don't look like some scared rabbit--- I'm not gonna hurt you too much!" Casmir guffawed. But at that moment the referee's whistle blew and the match began.

Was it that Casmir played better than in previous matches, or did Marvin play worse? Marvin was constantly calling for more cups of hot chocolate, which were duly served by the staff, but the afternoon was wearing on, it was getting colder by the minute, and what was a light breeze was starting to turn into a significant wind.

Marvin was aware of a League rule which stated that the referee could suspend the match if conditions were unfavorable. At one point Marvin actually went to the referee and asked.

"Isn't it kinda, you know, like too cold and windy and stuff to keep playing?"

The referee, one Muskie Muskovich, replied, "You mean you want me to stop the match? Are you joking? We only stop outdoor play when the wind chill hits -100F, and we're only at -75F now. Plenty warm enough. You better go back to your board, your clock's running."

Marvin, continuing to constantly drink hot chocolate and not having time to make it to the restroom, was now squirming in his seat, having a problem besides being cold. The game, however, had reached a critical point. The other games in the match had concluded with the score 2 1/2 - 1 1/2 in favor of the Doublejumpers. To win the match for his team, Marvin needed a draw, but he was a piece down in the following position.

Marvin knew he had to bring the game to a conclusion--- for more than one reason. Quickly, he made his move.

---

We hope that you're both warmer and more "relaxed" than Marvin, if you know what we mean. You don't have to go out on the ice nor need you drink hot chocolate (unless you wish to) in order to solve this problem. It's surprisingly easy and very practical. Don't get cold feet; solve the problem and then cool your mouse on Read More to see the solution and the brief conclusion of our story.

[Read More]

In today's column, we present English draughtsman Ken Lovell, a high level player who has done much to promote draughts (checkers) in the UK. Ken has offered our readers a unique book of his, Draughts Books of the 20th Century, an 86 page compilation, with commentary, of listings of a very large number of books published during the subject time period. Get your free copy here.

Ken was gracious enough to answer our interview questions.

---

You have had a long and very distinguished career in playing and promoting draughts. How did you get interested in draughts?

My first serious interest began when as a teenager I found a copy of Derek Oldbury's Move Over in a local library.

Are there any player(s) whom you consider to be a particular inspiration, or mentor?

My dad taught me how to play when I was very young and we had many enjoyable games.

What are a couple of moments in your career that are particularly memorable or noteworthy for you?

Although I've never won any national tournaments I did manage to win the English Amateur Championship in 1985 and the English Matchplay Championship in 2018.

Tell us a little about Ken Lovell the person, of which Ken Lovell the draughts player is a part.

I belong to the Black Country, a small area in England which was at the heart of the industrial revolution.

My working life consisted of a brief period at a grammar school as a chemistry teacher, followed by 26 years as a colour technologist in the plastics industry, from which I was able to take early retirement in 1996.

I'm single but have a lady friend.

Apart from varieties of draughts (Anglo-American, International 10x10 and Canadian) my interests include studying French and Latin, secularism, book-collecting, steam railways, photography, local history and Scrabble.

There are skeptics who think draughts is on an irreversible decline. What would you say to them and what do you see for the future of the Anglo-American style of draughts?

Sadly l would have to agree with them as far as Great Britain is concerned. We are managing to hold national tournaments with generous prizes, but the EDA (English Draughts Association) is struggling and the club scene is virtually dead. In contrast, our game is thriving in other parts of Europe and on other continents--- we can only hope that at some time in the future there will be a revival over here.

Anything else you'd like to add?

I was able to visit the USA in 1983 as a guest of Charles Walker at the International Checker Hall of Fame in PetaI, Mississippi. I was a spectator at the 4th US vs GB and Ireland International match, and was fortunate enough to meet Marion Tinsley and other top players.

I played in the British Open Championship in 1984, when there was an entry of 66, all playing in one section! Eventually the great Asa Long (reigning US Champion) made his way to the top of the pile and won the event. Although I didn't play him I was at his meal table every evening and had the great privilege of pouring his tea--- my claim to fame.

---

Ken is modest and a bit laconic, so we sought further commentary from the English Grandmaster Richard Pask. Below are Mr. Pask's reflections on Ken's career.

"He was introduced to the game by his father who, although not aware of the competitive game, was very keen on draughts. The first
tournament Ken attended, as a spectator, was the 1963 English Open Championship, which was held in Scarborough and won by Derek Oldbury. (Ken took the photograph of Derek, wearing dark glasses and smoking, which appeared in the Online Checkers Museum under the photos section. Speaking of which, Ken has always been keen on photography.)

"Ken has played at a solid, expert level for many years and taken part in many national tournaments, in addition to innumerable events in the West Midlands. Like me, Ken was very impressed with Derek Oldbury's excellent treatment of the Pioneer System given in his The Square World magazine and has managed to arrive at 'Diagram C' on hundreds of occasions in his draughts career. 'Boring' this position may be, as per Oldbury, but Ken has registered many wins, losses and draws from it!

"Without doubt, however, Ken is best known for his huge draughts library. It is without doubt the largest of its kind in the UK and Ireland, and surely ranks among the world's top 3 or 4."

---

We asked Ken for a favorite checker problem, and he did send along a very nice one. This problem appeared in ECB (Elam's Checker Board) Vol 21 No 1, Page 6970, Jan 1967.

Our thanks to Ken for the book, the interview and the problem. You can click on Read More to see the solution.

[Read More]

It was Saturday, January 8, 1955, and at the Beacon Cafe in the Provident Life Building in Bismarck, North Dakota, the Coffee and Cake Checker Club was having its first weekly meeting after the holiday break. Presided over by its informal leader, Sal Westerman, the club met on Saturdays from just after Labor Day until just before Memorial Day, with short breaks for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Day.

There was a good turnout and many of the "boys" (all but one of whom were over 50) were on hand. Regulars Delmer, Wayne, Larry, Tom, Louie the Flash and Dan were joined by Sal, of course, and also Ron and Old Frank, who didn't attend quite as often.

All the talk today was about, or actually from, Louie the Flash, who was waxing eloquent about his new girlfriend, someone he had met on a holiday trip to Fargo, North Dakota.

"Come on, Louie," Dan said, "this is about your nineteenth girlfriend in one year. How long will this one last?"

"Oh, no, no, not this time, man, like she's the one. I mean the one. I just know it for sure."

"You said that about Mary, and Rose, and Marcy, and Ellen, and Iris and I don't know how many others. Every one of them was the one until you broke up with them or more like they broke up with you," Wayne said.

"Aw, c'mon guys," said Louie, "you're being kind of hard on me. No, I tell you, Agatha is it. She's beautiful and she's about my age, and get this ... she loves to play checkers."

Most of the boys sat up in their seats. "Now this is starting to get interesting," Delmer said. "Is she good?"

"Good? She's amazing. We played a few games and she won more than half of them. She said she plays on the team at the sugar mill where she works. They play in the Cass County Industrial League. In fact, look here--- well, I know Sal, you bring a problem every week for us to try, but Agatha gave me one that she composed herself. I said I would bring it here to a Saturday meeting."

"Well," Sal said, "usually either you boys buy treats if you can solve my problem, or I buy if you can't. So Louie, are you willing to take that on and buy for everyone if we solve your girlfriend's problem?"

"Hey wow man," Louie replied, "I don't know ... "

At that moment, with perfect timing, Deana, the proprietess of the Beacon Cafe and a top-notch baker, announced "Fresh chocolate chip brownies today!"

"Louie, be a sport," Old Frank said. "Step up to it. If your girlfriend's problem is a good one, you'll be getting free treats."

"Okay, okay," Louie said, "I couldn't win it and I don't think you boys will either."

Louie took a small slip of paper from his shirt pocket and laid out the following position on a couple of waiting checkerboards.

"Very nice," Sal said, "and this time I get to solve too."

"Half an hour," Louie said.

"No way!" Delmer shot back. "An hour ... "

But within seconds the boys were sharply focused on solving the problem.

---

We don't know if you, our reader, have a new girlfriend, boyfriend, or significant other, let alone one who has a deep interest in checkers, but it makes no difference, as you can enjoy today's setting no matter. As usual, though, you're going to have to supply your own treats. See how you do and then flash your mouse onto Read More to see the solution and the rest of our little story.

[Read More]

The holiday season is over for another year, and the post-holiday blahs are inevitable. After the fervor of recent weeks, we're supposed to magically return to normal. It's even worse in much of mainland North America, which is in the dead of winter with short days and cold nights. Feeling a bit down is not unexpected.

We can't bring back that holiday excitement, nor can we make the days longer or warmer. Those latter things will only come further on as the earth continues its revolution about the sun. But we can bring you a short, snappy, pleasing, and rather easy checker problem, one that will give you some instant gratification without taxing your likely tired brain. It was sent to us by Lloyd and "Gosh Josh" Gordon and comes from actual play.

This isn't just a "blah" problem and you can solve it before you can say "blah blah blah." You likely won't need help but you can always click on Read More to verify your solution.

[Read More]

It was New Year's Eve. The National Checker League took a week off from play between Christmas and New Year's Day, and Marvin J. Mavin, the superstar captain of the Detroit Doublejumpers, was at home.

Recall that last month Marvin's wife, Priscilla K. Snelson, who was herself the CEO of the international mega-conglomerate Rust Belt Holdings, had hired some high-powered lawyers who got Marvin reinstated, and then some, after he had been unceremoniously dropped from the team during Doublejumper summer camp (see previous stories for full details). The past few weeks had gone well; the Doublejumpers pulled out of their early-season slump and were moving up in the standings.

However, today Marvin wasn't just home for New Year's Eve--- he was home alone for New Year's Eve.

It all started a little over a week ago when Marvin returned from a Doublejumper road trip. The taxi from the airport dropped him off at about ten o'clock at night. Priscilla, it turned out, was waiting up for him.

"Marvin," she said, before her husband even had a chance to take off his winter coat, "I have great news for you!"

"Just a moment, honey," Marvin replied. "Let me just get changed first ... "

"But don't you want to hear what I have to say?"

"Sure I do, but could I just ... "

"Well, listen, then. You know how we didn't spend Thanksgiving with my parents, and we won't be spending Christmas with them either?"

Now, long-time readers might recall that Marvin did not get along with Priscilla's parents, just as Priscilla's parents did not care at all for Marvin. In fact, they hadn't even so much as spoken since Marvin and Priscilla's wedding about a year and a half ago.

"Uh ... what are you getting at, Prissy?" By now Marvin had at least removed his coat and gloves, although he was still standing and holding them. He had put his suitcase on the floor.

"Guess what!" Priscilla exclaimed. "They invited us for New Year's Eve! They specifically invited you! Not just me, but both of us! They even mentioned you by name! Kind of ... "

"Mentioned me by name ... kind of," Marvin said. "I hope it didn't, you know, like twist their faces up or something."

"Don't be rude. No, they didn't twist up their faces ... all they did was ... well, never mind."

"Come on honey, spill the beans. What did they actually say?"

"Well, I was over there for dinner tonight after I left work, and they said that they'd like to have me over for Christmas Day. I told them we had already made other plans, which is actually the case."

"Yeah, we're meeting your fancy doodle friends at some swank restaurant ... "

"Like I said, Marvin, don't be rude. So Mom went on with asking about New Year's Eve. I said we hadn't made plans ... "

"Gee Prissy, why'd you say that?"

"Because it's the truth, Marvin, and how many times have I told you not to call me Prissy! So anyhow my Mom said, 'I suppose you ought to bring that husband of yours, too.' And my Dad said, 'Well, if you must, you must. Not that I'll like it.'"

Priscilla's hand went to her mouth. "Oops," she said, "I guess I wasn't supposed to tell you that last part. But still, you're invited, and you're going, right? I mean it's a great opportunity to ... "

"It's a great opportunity to do something besides go there. No, Prissy, I ain't going. Not no how, no way. I ain't really welcome and you know it as well as I do."

"Uh, well, except I already accepted on your behalf."

Marvin glowered. "Well then you can just un-accept on my behalf."

"I'll do no such thing ... "

Things didn't actually get better from that point. A kind of stony silence prevailed in Priscilla's swank condo for the next couple of days, with only brief phrases being exchanged between the spouses. Christmas Day came along and Marvin went with Priscilla to meet her upper-crust friends at Le Menu Magnifique, who featured Christmas dinner at the special rate of $749 per person (of course not including tip and tax). Things thawed a bit then as Marvin was at least somewhat polite with Priscilla's friends--- polite, at least, by Marvin's standards.

Then the morning of December 31 came around. "Are you excited for tonight, honey?" Priscilla asked at the breakfast table. "I made you some scrambled eggs. The staff is off for the day and I cooked for you."

"Thanks," Marvin said, looking down at a plate that contained an unidentifiable item and a yellow substance that could have been scrambled eggs, "I know you don't cook often and I appreciate it. But ... uh ... what did you mean by excited for tonight?"

"Why, that's obvious," she replied. "Now, don't forget, we're due at my parents' place at seven for dinner and we'll stay through the arrival of the New Year. It will be really a lot of fun, and it will just be family. None of my father's business associates this year." Priscilla's father, Winston Snelson, was Managing Partner at the high-powered law firm of Snelson, Nelson, Kelson and Delson.

Marvin's fork dropped with a clatter. "I thought we agreed that I ain't going," he said.

"We didn't exactly agree either way. But since I made your breakfast, the least you could do is come along with me. In fact you should do that, breakfast or no breakfast. Besides, I thought that you had changed your mind after the great time we had at Le Menu Magnifique."

"No," Marvin said and repeated once more, "I didn't change my mind and I ain't going, and I didn't have a good time with your fancy shmancy friends neither."

"Fine then!" Priscilla said sharply. "Whatever!" She stood up, reached over, whisked Marvin's plate off the table, and threw both plate and contents in a nearby trash can. The plate shattered as it hit the bottom of the can. "No breakfast for you, and get your own lunch and dinner, too!" Priscilla concluded.

Priscilla swept out of the room, and that was the last Marvin saw of her until he spotted her again in the early evening, on the way to their private elevator.

"My limo will bring me home ... whenever! Maybe!" she said as she entered the elevator. The door closed in front of her and then complete silence prevailed through all 5,000 square feet of the condo.

Marvin sighed. He went into his study and picked up a recent copy of Championship Checker Challenges and found what should have been an interesting problem, but he was unable to focus.

Finally he sighed again and closed the magazine, without solving the problem. Maybe he could watch television. He got out his cell phone and put in an order for fried chicken and biscuits from Cackle Club Chicken and then tuned in to the Checker Channel on the small television in his study. But reruns of last season's championships didn't hold his interest either. Eventually his order of chicken arrived and he picked at it in the breakfast room with little appetite. He couldn't shake off a restless, discontented feeling.

Marvin sat for a while, thoughts coursing through his mind. Finally, he knew he had a decision to make and it wasn't an especially easy one.

He called Priscilla's cell phone number, not expecting much, but to his surprise, she answered.

"Yes, Marvin, what is it?" Priscilla snapped. "I'm not especially pleased to hear from you, so make it quick. We're at dinner right now."

"Uh, well ... it's kind of like this ... "

Marvin spoke for a minute or two and Priscilla's reply was about the same length.

It was actually Priscilla who answered the door at her parents' mansion in Grosse Point.

"I'm happy to see you," Priscilla said, and her smile was genuine.

"Same here," came the reply.

"I'm also kind of surprised."

"Same here."

"Well, come on in. There's still a couple of hours until midnight."

Both Priscilla's mother, Hermione, and her father, Winston, looked up in surprise from their seats in the middle of the mansion's Great Room. Winston was the first to speak.

"This is a surprise!" he said.

"Heard that one already," was the reply.

"Don't know if it's a good surprise," Winston continued.

"Winston, really!" Hermione said. "You agreed to be nice ... "

"Yes, dear, yes, I suppose I did."

"A Happy New Year to you both," Marvin said. He went over and shook hands with Winston and then gave Hermione a hug--- a brief one, but still a hug.

A little later on, after the New Year had arrived, when Marvin and Priscilla had made their farewells and finally gotten back home, Priscilla asked, "What made you change your mind?"

"I dunno," Marvin said. "I just kind of thought that maybe it was time to let bygones be bygones and to move on. Your folks did invite me, even if it was in kind of an off-handed way, and I was wrong to not respond to it at first. So I sorta wanted to make it up ... to them, but more than anything to you."

Priscilla smiled and put her arms around Marvin's neck. "Thank you, husband," she said, and then ...

Well, perhaps at this moment we should give Marvin and Priscilla a little privacy.

---

Let's hope your New Year's Eve isn't preceded by domestic drama; it might distract you enough to draw you away from a challenging checker problem. See how you do with today's offering and then click on Read More to see the solution, which involves numerous "star" moves.

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Jim Court was a big man. Big in every sense of the word. At six feet six inches and 200 pounds, he was physically large. He worked out regularly at an exclusive gym and was muscular and strong, and it all led to a very intimidating appearance. He was in his late 30s in age but he had the strength and endurance of a twenty year old.

He was a big man in other ways, too. Big in business, as the CEO of a major construction company headquartered in the midwestern city in which he lived. A big man around town, as a member of the City Council, chair of the Budget Committee, and with prospects of maybe being elected Mayor at some point.

He was wealthy. His construction company had started long ago as a family business. When Jim inherited it, he took it public and make a fortune overnight. He had a hundred million in investments, property, and cash, and he knew that would only grow with time.

Nothing could stand in Jim's way, and if you were to ask Jim he would tell you as much.

One Sunday in mid-December, when the cold weather had set in, Jim was sitting in his penthouse condo with a glass of French wine, and he started to think about the upcoming holidays. He didn't like this season. For one thing, he had to pay his employees for not only Thanksgiving but Christmas and New Year's Day as well, days on which they did no work for the company at all. Jim had wanted to do away with the holidays. If the workers wanted off, they could go without pay for a day. But it didn't work out and the holidays stayed on the books. However, when the workers started asking for the day after Thanksgiving off, too, Jim drew the line. "I pay you for six holidays a year already," he roared, "and you're not getting another one as long as I'm here!"

He was stingy about raises, benefits, and just about everything else, doing just the minimum the law required. He actually had cut wages once when unemployment was high and the workers had nowhere else to go. "A dime a dozen," he said of his laborers. Jim was a little more careful with the office staff, doing just enough to avoid too much turnover. But he would instantly fire anyone he thought of as disloyal.

Another thing he hated about the season was all this nonsense about giving gifts. Some of his staff gave him gifts; that was fine if they thought they could butter him up that way, but he'd be darned if he'd give gifts to anyone else, and as he had no living family, he didn't have to bother with relatives, either.

His thoughts weren't making him happy and were ruining his enjoyment of his $250 bottle of wine. Jim was stingy with everyone but himself. "It's my money and I'm the one who should enjoy it," he would often say, especially when turning down requests for charitable donations.

"I think I'll go for a walk and clear my head of all this Christmas nonsense," he said to himself, "although I suppose there will be those stupid decorations everywhere and people asking for handouts."

Jim put on his faux fur coat and hat and his Italian leather gloves and took the elevator down to the lobby. When the doorman said, "Happy holidays, Mr. Court," Jim scowled at him and said, "You must be new here. If you want to keep your job you better watch what you say."

Jim walked for maybe twenty minutes, setting a brisk pace, until he came upon a park where the checker hustlers hung out, at all times of the year in all sorts of weather. Now, Jim fancied himself a good checker player, much as he thought he was good at nearly everything. In fact, he was pretty good, though short of professional status.

"Maybe I'll go win a game or two," he thought, and he let his footsteps carry him into the park. There were concrete tables all around with embedded checkerboards. Despite the cold there were quite a few people in the park, as you might expect for a sunny Sunday afternoon. A few were playing chess but most were playing checkers. A couple of tables seemed open, with just one person sitting at the board.

A ragged looking fellow, probably in his forties and sporting a scruffy beard, waved at Jim. The man's hands were encased in gloves with the fingers exposed. "Hey man," he said, "how about a game? Only five bucks and you'll learn something for sure."

Jim looked over at the man. "Learn something, will I? Okay, let's play and we'll see who learns what."

"Five bucks," the man said. "That's the stakes."

"Make it ten," Jim said, "or more if you like."

"Okay, ten, but I don't ... "

"Play, don't talk," Jim said as he sat down on the concrete bench attached to the table. The seat was cold and Jim swept the lower part of his coat underneath him.

The game went on for a little while and Jim won. The hustler was pretty good but he made a mistake and Jim took advantage of it.

Jim made to stand up. "Pay me," he said.

"Aw, man ... how about double or nothing?" the hustler said.

"Okay. Go on. You get White this time."

Jim won again, and the disheartened look on the hustler's face was impossible to miss.

"Twenty dollars," Jim said, "and no more double or nothing stuff, either."

"Gee, I'm poor and can barely buy food ... hey, it's Christmas, and from the looks of you, you got money ... can you give me a break? Anyhow I'm sorry but I ain't got twenty bucks."

Jim leaned over the table and grabbed the hustler by his tattered coat. He lifted him off his seat with one hand and tightened his grip, making a fist with the other. "Twenty dollars, or else."

The hustler struggled a little but Jim's grip was too strong. The man looked frightened. "Mister, come on, I told you, I ain't got ... "

"I'll pay it." Unseen by Jim, another, more elderly man, dressed all in white and wearing a white cap and gloves, had approached. "Put the man down, Mr. Court. You're committing assault."

"Who are you?" Jim roared, "and how do you know my name?"

"Everyone knows you, Mr. Court, you're a big man, aren't you now?"

"That I am, and now I'm warning you to mind your own business. This hustler is a fraud and he owes me."

"I said I'll pay it," the white coated man said. He offered a twenty dollar bill to Jim. "My name is Gabe and I'm happy to clear this up."

Jim let go of the hustler, who fell back onto the hard bench. Gabe took another twenty and handed it to the hustler. "For your troubles," Gabe said, "and a Merry Christmas to you."

"Thanks ... I ... Merry Christmas to you too!" the hustler said. He quickly got up and hurried out of the park.

"Now," Gabe said, "there seems to be an opening at this table, Mr. Court. Would you like to play a serious game for a serious stake?"

Jim looked Gabe squarely in the eye. "I don't know who you are and what you're up to, but you're an interfering busybody and I'll be happy to teach you a lesson. Name your stakes."

Gabe pulled out an envelope. "I have here cashier's check, made out to you, for one hundred million dollars," he said. "Examine it if you wish. It is genuine. You don't have anything similar with you, but I will accept your marker when you lose."

Jim's eyes popped when he saw the check. It was indeed genuine; Jim had an eye for that sort of thing. Another hundred million --- that would just about double his fortune. Of course if he lost, he'd be dead broke ... but there were ways around that. And he wasn't going to lose.

"Let's play," Jim said.

The game began. Jim built up a huge material advantage and was certain he would win. He could barely believe that when the following position was reached, with Gabe to play, Jim was ahead by six pieces. It was the strangest game Jim had ever played.

Jim was smiling--- but so was Gabe, as he reached out to make his move.

---

We doubt that any checker player anywhere has ever played for a one-game stake of a hundred million dollars. Big Jim certainly has a lot on the line here. But for you, our reader, there are no stakes at all and it's just for fun. Give today's problem a try--- maybe a hundred million tries--- and then click your mouse on Read More to see the solution and the rest of the story.

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It was Saturday, December 17, 1955 and in Bismarck, North Dakota the Coffee and Cake Checker Club was having the last of its weekly meetings prior to a two-week holiday break.

The club, under the informal leadership of Sal Westerman, met at the Beacon Cafe in the Provident Life Building, where proprietess Deana Nagel made and sold the best baked goods in the region. There was a good turnout today; Young Blaine was there along with Sam, Wayne, Delmer, Dan, Old Frank (who was hardly the oldest one there; in fact only Young Blaine was under the age of 50), seldom-seen Ron, Kevin the Spooler, and Louie the Flash. That made for quite a crowd and it spilled over into the second large booth at the back of the cafe.

The talk was about Young Blaine, who during the previous holiday season had become engaged to his girlfriend in Minot. The engagement was now about a year old and Young Blaine was getting teased (Young Blaine was always getting teased) about not yet having set a wedding date.

"Don't make her wait too long," Louie the Flash--- himself a confirmed bachelor--- was saying. "She'll drop you if you don't get a move on."

"As if you'd know," said Wayne, who had been married for many years.

"It's been a year since you gave her that ring," Dan observed. "What are you going to do to top that this year? You not only ought to set the date, you need to give her something nice besides."

"Aw, come on guys, give me a break," Young Blaine protested. "I'm still a junior engineer at the power company and I don't make a big salary. It's like I've been telling Moira lately, we can set a date as soon as I get my first promotion. That won't take more than another year."

"Another year?" Delmer exclaimed. "When you told Moira that how did she take it?"

"She got kind of quiet for a while," Young Blaine said, "and then she was kind of grumpy for a few days. I didn't really get it."

The rest of the boys could be seen to shake their heads, and then Deana, who never missed anything, spoke up from behind her counter. "I don't want to be mean about it," she said, "but if I were your girlfriend, you'd get a real clear ultimatum from me and you'd have about sixty seconds to deal with it. Come on Blaine, you know darn well what to do. Go buy her another piece of expensive jewelry--- buy it on time if you have to--- and then ask her to set the date. And make it real clear that she can choose any date she wants and you'll be delighted to go along with it."

"Wow," Young Blaine said, "I'm getting it from all sides. Not my day, I guess."

"No, young fellow," Deana went on, "it is your day. We're giving you good advice which is going to save you a lot of grief and heartache."

At that point Sal decided to step in. "Okay, boys," he said, "we're here for checkers so let's get down to today's business. I have a nice problem for you, one that will take you into the holidays in good cheer until we meet again in January."

So saying, Sal set up the following position on a checkerboard in each of the big booths.

"Now, my wife Sylvia and I could use some nice treats today, so maybe you won't get this one and you'll be buying for us," he said, referring to the tradition that if the boys could solve Sal's problem Sal would treat everyone, while if they couldn't solve it, the boys would buy for Sal and Sylvia.

Meanwhile Young Blaine looked relieved to be off the hook at least for the moment, as the boys were very quickly deep into the checker problem. They didn't even hear Deana announce that today she had freshly baked cinnamon raisin bars.

---

Were the boys and Deana giving Young Blaine good advice, even if it was unsolicited and perhaps unwanted? We'll leave that up to you to decide, just as we'll for the moment leave it up to you to solve today's problem. Don't wait a year or more for a possible job promotion; see how you do, after which we advise you to click on Read More to view the solution. You will have to provide your own treats and coffee, though, and it's only fair to warn you that this problem is tricky and devious in the extreme.

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