Chess Set Photo by Alan Light (Wikipedia)
The state of Missouri is a game of chess. Rex Sinquefield is king, and most of us are pawns. The states’ queens, bishops, and knights all seem to be falling under King Rex’s mighty hand. How else could he have the power to pull off what he did in December?
I’m not talking about his power in politics. I’m wondering how he has the honor of being inducted into the Missouri Sports Hall of Fame later this month for supporting the game of chess.
Chess is a wonderful game, and I commend Sinquefield and his wife, Jeanne, for being staunch fans. They created the Chess Club and Scholastic Center of Saint Louis and the World Chess Hall of Fame, and St. Louis is lucky to have both. But chess is not a sport—it’s a game. Checkers is chess’ stupid cousin, but they are still related: Checkers isn’t a sport; thus, chess is not. When you golf, bowl, or hit a baseball on the Wii, you aren’t actually playing the game; when you play chess on the Wii, you are playing the game.
Anyway, King Rex’s current power move involves a ballot initiative to return local control of the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department to the city. (Sinquefield is the money behind A Safer Missouri, the group behind the initiative.) Sinquefield had to change his strategy in early November to get the St. Louis Police Officers Association to play along. After years of opposing change to state control, the POA suddenly backed the initiative.
But the other side of the board can make a move or two. The ACLU recently filed a lawsuit seeking to block the initiative (to be voted on in November 2012) because the union contends that it would ultimately conflict with state Sunshine laws. The suit also contends that the initiative would create a city-run system that would block any attempt at establishing a civilian review board of the police department.
The POA's business manager, Jeff Roorda, says the suit is "without merit" and continues to back the iniative.
To steal a line from Mel Brooks, “It’s good to be the king.” You can not only end up in a state’s Sports Hall of Fame without having no connection to an actual sport, but you can control the state’s chess board.
Commentary by Alvin Reid
