Denver's Most Famous Fish

I met this sucker at the Denver Chess Club sometime in the winter of '75-'76. I remember the meeting because it was so unusual; it seemed to be 'staged.' We were all playing 'skittles' (informal unrated games) when another chess player pointed him out to me. The player said something like, 'See that guy over there? He is Denver's most famous lawyer.'

Like most other people I had a very low opinion of lawyers, famous or not. I wondered whether this 'famous lawyer' was any good at playing chess. Later, I challenged him to play. We played three games, all of which I won easily. The 'famous lawyer' was a fish. I would later come to think of him as 'the club fish,' because whereas most fish came and went quickly, or improved rapidly, this fish hung on grimly for years never getting any better.

I remembered other strange events involving this fish. He seemed to be 'interested' enough in me to invite me to join him from time to time. Three occasions come to mind: the first one involved a chess tournament in Colorado Springs. He invited  another player and me to drive there with him. During the drive there he seemed to know that I liked Beethoven, and put on some Beethoven music. That evening after the games I noticed another curious thing about this fish: he did not seem capable of relaxing and enjoying himself. (And in fact I have never seen this fish enjoying anything.) On the return trip to Denver the next evening we engaged in conversation. (The other player was 'missing.') He seemed interested in my financial situation. We touched briefly on the religious - philosophical area and when I told him I was not a believer he said (boom), 'You pay a price for that.' That pretty much ended the conversation. He dropped me off where he had picked me up, at the Bellview exit. Curiously, he avoided picking me up at, or returning me to, our home. I made a note never to repeat the unfortunate mistake of accepting another invitation from this fish.

And so, when one day at the DCC he invited me to attend a meeting with the club's landlords I replied that, 'Meetings bore me.' Do you know what a 'micro-expression is?' Yes? Well when I said that I saw a micro-expression cross his face for a fraction of a second. It was a look of sheer hatred.

Some time later at another chess tournament this fish invited me to lunch after the first games. I reluctantly agreed. The urgency of his request suggested to me that he had something to discuss, but as lunch dragged on it became clear that he had nothing worthwhile to say. I found his behavior very confusing.