72. "One Night in Bangkok" by Murray Head (and the dudes from ABBA)
During the second semester of my freshman year at Ricks, some guys at the dorm started playing chess and holding informal tournaments. I didn't join in at first, as I wanted to stay focused on my studies. But I couldn't help but get involved because there was this one guy that thought he was the Chessmaster of Rexburg--and he probably deserved the title, as he was destroying all of the others in the tournament--but I didn't like his attitude, and I figured it was my job to adjust it. Even though I wasn't taking part in the tournament, it ticked me off that he just assumed he was the best chess player in the dorm. I didn't assume I was. I figured there were lots of guys better than me. But his hubris annoyed me enough to challenge him to a match.
Now, I thought I was a pretty good player and would give him a run for his money, as I had beaten Darcy Bollinger in sixth grade repeatedly. In fact, the passion Darcy and I felt for the game ran so high during one match that we even squared off for a fist-fight after he accused me of making an illegal move (and it may have been one). But before we could even start throwing punches, a teacher started heading our way. Darcy let down his guard as soon as he saw her walking toward us. But in my mind I thought, "Hey, I'm going to get in trouble and go to the principal's office anyway. I might as well punch him." So I landed a real haymaker right across his jaw before the teacher got there. I wasn't the strongest kid in school, and the blow surprised Darcy more than it hurt him, but it was still immensely satisfying to land that unexpected punch. We both got sent to Mr. Brown's office, and I think we got our chess-playing privileges taken away for a few weeks as punishment. Such passion for the game at such a young age meant that I had to be good at it, right?
Well, the dude at Ricks crushed me three matches straight. I was completely humiliated. And he was completely smug about it. So I gave up all my studies for the next week and went to the college library and checked out every book on chess. After reading them and playing a few practice matches with some guys on the floor, I challenged him again. He confidently accepted, as my previous play was so pathetic that he thought I really couldn't have gotten any better at the game in only a week.
I trounced him so badly that he actually got upset. He thought I had been faking it and holding back during our previous matches just to make him over-confident so that he would put his guard done and I could win this game. But now that he knew what my skill level really was, he would be prepared for me in a second game, which he challenged me to immediately. I beat him in that game too, and the one after that. Not only did I enjoy beating him, but the other guys on the floor REALLY enjoyed it. Nothing garners good will with a young man like publicly humiliating the guy that publicly humiliated him.
For the next few months the former Chessmaster tried to beat me about every few days or so, but he couldn't. One day I heard him complaining in the hallway that the library didn't have any books on chess, even though the library catalog said they were all checked in. At that moment I felt especially satisfied with myself, because I had hidden all the chess books on another floor of the library and had been checking on them regularly to make sure no one had found them and returned them to their right spot. Since this was well before the days of Amazon internetting, my strategy to block his learning more about chess was quite effective. He couldn't study what I had studied, so he couldn't beat me. Was it an underhanded and unsportsmanlike thing to do? Definitely. But when it comes to eradicating smug from a dorm, honor and sportsmanship are luxuries the common man simply can't afford.
At the same time that the chess craze was sweeping our dorm, "One Night in Bangkok"was moving up the charts. It was the one and only pop hit from the musical "Chess." I've never seen the musical. Why? Because while I like playing chess myself, the only thing I can think of that would be more boring than watching other people playing chess is watching people sing about watching people playing chess, with the obvious exception of this song. Because if you've seen one polluted stinking town--
Hey, kids! Did you spot the four-move checkmate Murray had going during the flute solo? And she fell for it! He only has to take the pawn on F7 with his Queen, and he'll win the game!
Whew! That's enough chess excitement for one entry. Now for a different kind of excitement!
It is embarrassing to admit this, but when "One Night in Bangkok" started playing on the radio, I thought for about a month that the voice in the song was that of William Daniels--the voice of Kitt, the true star of Knight Rider!
Seriously. I really did.
But can you blame me? Watch the following clip and tell me if you don't think Murray Head sounds a hell of a lot like William Daniels!
Yeah, that clip didn't have enough William Daniels in it to really hear his voice. Here's a little more of his voice without all that Knight Rider music and tires screeching and Hasselhoff screaming "Ah! Oh, no!"
"If I wanted delicious?!" Who doesn't want delicious! Oh, for crying out loud!
Anyway, I think I've made my point--which is that William Daniels was the voice of Kitt, and that Murray Head sounds like William Daniels when he sings (but he probably doesn't sound like William Daniels when he talks to David Hasselhoff through a car radio speaker or when he talks to tubs of rich, creamy margarine.)
That is all.
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