I remember the first time I attended a chess tournament. My son was interested in the chess club at school, and since he was only in fourth grade at the time my husband and I joined him. I was fascinated to find that it was somewhat a world of its own – like a world within our own world. Everyone had the same collapsible chess board in a blue carrying bag with a chess clock. They seemed to have a language of their own, see this very long glossary of chess terms. One sign said, “Skittles here” but I didn’t see any candy (see definition below). I felt like an interloper. My son enjoyed the day, but determined chess was just not the thing for him.