File:Go pieces.jpg

My father, who died many years ago, was an avid go player. Every Thursday evening of my young life, he took go lessons from Takao Matsuda. This relationship began when Takao was a young man. Takao married, raised a son, and often brought his family to our house on Thursdays. I still have several drawings that Takao made, since he was a gifted artist. My father used to play in tournaments and was a ranked player. He belonged to the Nippon Club in New York, and whenever we went, our family was the only Caucasian one I saw.

I loved to watch games of go. First of all, the pieces themselves looked (and felt) wonderful. The white pieces were made of ivory or shell; the black pieces were made of polished slate. The pieces were kept in smooth wooden bowls that also looked and felt wonderful. When a player placed a piece on the board, it was held between the second and third fingers and put down with a sharp click sound. The posture of each player was almost identical--bodies very still while eyes scanned the board. You could practically hear the gears turning in their brains.