I don’t know how they do it.

Watching grandmasters like Hikaru blitz through complicated positions in seconds, or GothamChess break down crazy games with his signature humor and sharpness… it’s mesmerising. And it’s because of these iconic people that at some point in my chess journey, the game became more of an art I love to watch, rather than trying to reach their level.

When I began watching Hikaru’s lightning-fast brilliance, GothamChess’s hilarious and chaotic game reviews, the drama of top-level matches, the memes, the speedruns, the blunders, the “chat, what does this meme mean?” moments – chess became something I could enjoy without trying to win, something beautiful to witness instead of conquer.

Of course, I spent years trying. I followed every beginner’s path… tutorials, strategy guides, puzzles, analyzing classic games, studying openings I couldn’t remember two moves later. I watched streamers explain their thought processes in real time, hoping something would finally click. But no matter how much I studied, I couldn’t think several moves ahead, evaluate positions, develop a strategy or identify tactics. My brain wouldn’t cooperate with the kind of layered thinking chess demands – too many variables, too many contingencies.

Eventually, I let go of the idea that I needed to master chess, and that’s when the real love for it started. Once I gave up trying so hard to improve, I found a much deeper joy in simply watching it.

Now I scroll through endless chess memes, follow the drama of tournaments (to root for Hikaru in each of them), laugh at blunders by Magnus, and admire the intuitive brilliance of people who can see fifty moves into the future, even when blindfolded. While I may still try to get better at it on my own pace, for now I can just watch the Masters playing it, who make me love the game for what it is: beautiful, entertaining, brutal, hilarious, and way beyond me.