# Spider Solitaire Notation (alternative version)

The streets were littered with random animal and human body parts. An arm here. A leg there. A lizard’s tail, a cat’s paw. A pair of bunny ears to the right, an ox-tongue to the left. A human kidney, a lung. Careful, don’t step on the occasional monkey brains … uh oh, somebody even managed to lose his 68,73,67,75 after, shall we say, some rather poor decision making. The city was not exactly known for good hygiene, and a vaccine for the mystery virus wasn’t coming any time soon. But the White Bishop knew he had been one of the luckier ones. He only had a nose missing.

Despite many years of debate and discussion, there was no consensus on whether the Knight or Bishop was the stronger piece on the Chessboard so they had decided to settle things over a game of Spider Solitaire, or more precisely a series of games. It was well known the Knight could wield a mean deck of cards or two, but the Bishop felt he was equal to the challenge.

They would both play 100 games each, and whoever won more games than the other would win the match. As compensation for being wheelchair-bound, the Bishop gave the Knight odds of half-a-game. Thus, if they both won the same number of games, the Knight would be declared the stronger player.

“<ji>”, says the Black Knight.

The White Bishop obediently moves the Four of Clubs onto the Five of Clubs, exposing the Three of Diamonds.

“<eh>”.

The White Bishop moves the Seven of Spades onto the Eight of Spades, exposing the Four of Diamonds

“<ie> – oops I mean <je> … <if> … <if> … <fi>”

And on and on it went. The quadriplegic would announce his moves according to their agreed notation and his anosmia-stricken best friend would play them out. They had even mastered the lingo for supermoves, (borrowing from the simpler game of Freecell) and superswaps. When it was the Bishop’s turn to play, the Knight would only watch. Of course there would be no 85,78,68,79 for either player. All the other chessmen watched in awe, admiring the skill of both players as they navigated the good cards and bad.

< several games later >

The Knight had won 47 games out of 100. With his concentration waning near the end he probably should have won a couple extra games. But at least he didn’t have to worry about making further errors. Everything depended on the Bishop who had won 47 out of 99. The latter had reached an endgame with only six face-down cards remaining and the stock empty. At first the prelate was about to concede the game and the match, but he eventually realised he could expose one face-down card with a complex sequence of moves. But he would have to hope the newly-exposed card was good. Finding nothing better, the Bishop executes his plan and is about to turn over a card, but then pauses.

Just turn over the 70,85,67,75,73,78,71 card and get it over and done with, the Black Knight thinks to himself.

“I feel it is most unfair, for the entire match to be decided by a single card.”

“The match is very close,” replies the Knight. “I calculate the odds to be exactly 50:50. The next card will determine the outcome of the game and the match. Get a good card and even the Ninja Monkey can’t 70,85,67,75 it up with random moves. Draw a bad card and you have no plan B.”

The Bishop checks his card-tracking sheet.

“There are three good cards and three bad cards. Doesn’t get much closer than that”

“JUST 70,85,67,75,73,78,71 TURN 70,85,67,75,73,78,71 THAT 70,85,67,75,73,78,71 CARD 70,85,67,75,73,78,71 OVER so we can work out the winner and go home.”

“We both played 100 games and neither player has managed to demonstrate any statistically-significant superiority over the other,” continues the Bishop. “I don’t see any point in completing the last game.”

After some thought, the Black knight replies “All right, we’ll call it a draw.” 😊