Music Philosophy Art Math Chess Programming and much more ...
Title: The Last 14 Days
Subtitle: (featuring two rather frustrated gentlemen)
It must have been quite a sight—two grumpy men on Google Meet, barely speaking, mostly swearing, and staring at their screens like they were plotting a revolution.
It started the usual way. Marek asked if I wanted to play a game of chess. I didn’t have time—I was buried in coding a monstrous chess database.
No problem, said Marek. He had a solution: he'd challenge MIHALOP, a very strong player (that’s all I know about him, honestly).
“Great,” I said. “Then I can watch you while I code.”
What followed was a good few hours of near silence, except for repeated outbursts like “sht,” “hell,” “what the f**,” and their equivalents in Polish and Swedish. In between: groans, sighs, and muffled rage. That was our “communication.”
Marek’s frustration was easy to read. Game after game, he’d lose the position, then a pawn or a piece, then get checkmated. Again and again.
After two hours, I snapped.
“Come on, you can’t seriously be disappointed about losing to him! He’s rated 600 points higher than you. Treat it like free lessons and move on!”
Yes, my tone was irritable—I was wrestling with the quirks of a web host, several programming languages, and their charming little inconsistencies.
And, being the “modern” man I am, I naturally rely on AI models to help with my coding.
That brings us to problem number two. AI can be brilliant at some tasks—and completely hopeless at others we consider basic. This mismatch makes me expect too much from it. I sit there thinking, this should be easy for you! But it isn’t. And the AI’s cheerful suggestions don’t help:
“Let’s try this change! I’m confident it’ll work this time!”
(It’s clearly been trained to have delusions of grandeur.)
So there we were:
Two grumpy old guys—one furious about chess, the other fuming over PhpMyAdmin, MySQL, C#, and an increasingly irritatingly optimistic AI.
Day after day, the frustration loop continued. Two guys feeding each other’s grumpiness.
To any outsider, it would’ve been hilarious.
But maybe it’s not just the AI.
Marek is trained to have chess-related hubris (so am I—and so are most chess players I know). I, meanwhile, am trained to have programming hubris.
What do I mean?
Since childhood, we’ve been told that success comes naturally. Sure, people mention things like “discipline” and “practice,” but the underlying message is:
“If you just try, you’ll succeed.”
My message is a little different.
And here, I want to quote Grandmaster Ben Finegold:
“Trying is the first step to failure!”
Now—I’m not saying you should stop doing what you love just because your progress doesn’t match your too-high expectations. Instead, lower those expectations to the level you’re currently at.
Also, stop expecting someone—or something—else to swoop in and do the work for you.
Because sooner or later, you have to do the work.
Not ChatGPT.
And it’s not enough to play game after game without analyzing your mistakes, reviewing the theory, and adjusting your approach.
Only then—maybe—you’ll be able to give MIHALOP a real fight.
Lars