Chess in prison earns ESPN TV documentary
Inc. staff write Patrick Sauer recently profiled Benecard Services, based in Lawrenceville, N.J., a company where the game of chess has become a large part of its culture. Here, he shares his notes on a recent outing to a N.J. state prison where the company sponsors a chess tournament twice a year.
"Chess. Now there's a game of kings," --Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption.
Inmates playing competition chess in prison
As we pass through the steel doors, John Marshall explains how the New Jersey State Prison in Trenton fits into the Garden State pecking order for correctional facilities. "This is the place for the hard cases who didn't fit in at other prisons," he says, "this is the last resort." A tad unsettled from too many Oz flashbacks, I am struck by how utterly ordinary the place seems. The green linoleum, concrete walls painted drab, hoops with oversized backboards and long tables with plastic chairs are where a low-level chess tournament should be held. It looks like every Catholic school cafeteria, minus the permanently off-limit weight room where an inmate was bludgeoned to death, of course. (Or so I was told).
I tagged along with Marshall, his film school nephew, three Princeton woodpushers and, naturally, an ESPN documentary crew in attending the prison chess tournament sponsored by Benecard Services (Inc. magazine, October 2004). It was an eye-opening experience, but not in ways I anticipated from years spent overloading on gangster rap. I was initially taken by the age of the inmates. The fifty or so players were mainly graying, balding, middle-aged men, more than a few sporting thick oversized coke bottle glasses of the early 80s. There was an air of resignation to the affair -- do-what-you're-told-and you'll-get-to-play-chess sort of feel. "These guys are very polite because they're older," says Matt Schuman, public information (representative) for the NJ Department of Corrections. "They've been in serious trouble and don't want anymore."
This particular day, however, the lifer weariness was cut by the anticipation for the event. Since it started in 2001, the number of regular players has grown and chess has become the pastime du jour at NJ State.
"All the guys talk about in the yard is the tournament," says Jesus "Big New York" Sanabria. "You beat the Princeton guys and become a hero for a few weeks, get bragging rights and maybe a few extra packs of cigarettes." It's not hard to fathom why chess has caught on. From the inmates' perspective, it takes up time and as 'Red' taught us, prison time is slow time. It also keeps the mind sharp, doesn't cost much and makes for a nice press release because participation requires a good behavioral record, which appeals to prison officials. "We're trying to add rooms and nights for chess because these guys love it," says Don Mee, assistant superintendent.
Although it's apparent from the outset that the Princeton guys have a major edge -- even while playing 17 games simultaneously -- Marshall points out that the inmates have won a few games and that some have gotten better each time. Watching the games, it's surprising how serious everyone takes the matches -- lots of chatter, suggestions and camaraderie among the prisoners and acute focus from the college kids. Marshall wanders about offering techniques, answering questions, calling stalemates and offering encouragement, which is desperately needed by some players. "I'm nervous," says Shawn Robinson in the middle of a solid effort. " I feel like any moment he'll put it on me, like I'm under the tank in Iraq."
A couple of inmates win their matches and are surrounded by their peers, everyone eager to congratulate the Tiger-slayers. "I prepared myself and concentrated on evaluating different moves," says winner Warren King. "It makes me feel real good." The winners get chess books and solicit autographs from the Princeton crew; everyone shakes hands and offers thanks. If not for the bland, state-issued apparel, it could be a church basement near you.
But it's not. "If I'm not in the hole, on vacation as we call it, I'll be here for the next tournament," says King.
I learned a few other interesting notes on the inside: (1) There are a lot of incarcerated individuals who have/had terrible legal representation. You don't even have to ask them. But what do I know? Maybe there is an endemic lack of quality lawyering, at least that's what they tell me. (2) There is no coffee like prison coffee. That assessment from Sanabria might be a bit strong, after all, there wasn't a Starbucks in New York when he went in, but it's a satisfying cup of joe nonetheless. (3) "There's a lot of anti-Americanism in prison, but if they ever get out, they'll never burn American money," says NJ State ranconteur Phillip Dixon, adding, "The USA is not a democracy or a republic, it's a virus."
Over all, the Benecard chess tournament is a simple, satisfying gesture that offers inmates excitement and ideally, a shot of self-worth. "They get to feel good about themselves, and by and large they don't have many reasons [to]," says Schuman. Even if playing chess with the Ivy leaguers amounts to little more than a diversion, it's something to look forward to and breaks up the routine. And that means a lot during slow time.
http://www.inc.com/staff-blog/2005/01/12/a_shot_of_selfworth_behind_bars.html