Fifty Wednesdays. That’s where we are — fifty nights of boards on beerhall tables, fifty rounds of “anyone up for a game?”, and a club that exists now mostly because people kept showing up.
It started as a handful of people who wanted somewhere to play that wasn’t a tournament hall and wasn’t a phone screen. No entry fee, no ratings, no sign-up sheet — just a standing invitation to turn up on a Wednesday and find a game. Fifty weeks later, that’s still the entire format, and we’ve got no plans to complicate it.
What fifty nights looks like
Beginners who’d only ever played online, sitting down against people who’ve been playing for decades — and both walking away happy. Regulars who came once out of curiosity and never stopped. People who moved to Seattle knowing nobody and used a chessboard as the introduction. Games that ended in three minutes and games that ate the whole evening.
Thanks to Queen Anne Beerhall for giving us the space week after week, and to everyone who’s brought a board, taught someone a fork, or just made a newcomer feel like they belonged there.
Number fifty-one is next week
Same place, same time, same complete absence of pressure. If you’ve been meaning to come along and kept not getting round to it, this is a decent excuse.