The late night checker champ. Eyes locked on the pieces, as they fall aside and double jump. He had all sorts of strategies. Whittle away, double jeopardy, pin and gang bang. He took the whole thing way to seriously. While the hours ticked away he could hear the world go by outside his window. He played internet checkers and never looking up or out the noises his neighbors made might as well have been his cheering section. The baby crying when he loses, the girl down a few doors cackling when he struck deep into his opponents side of the board.
He often wondered what his opponents looked like. Pimply, red eyed teenagers or strange taiwanese guys in their wives panties. He fantasied color commentary as his games were broadcast, perhaps on japanese television. "Oh look at that!" An excited voice would say, "that's double jeopardy right there, red doesn't know what to do!" They would shout as they hung on every move, dissecting the minutia of his strategy for a riveted audience.
God only knows the sort of mascot a sport like this would have but it would scream in excitement at every well placed set of moves. Maybe it would be a leather gimp who would mock the defeated by lightly beating them with a whip and rubbing it's nipples while the audience is worked up in to a frenzy of double jump lust.
He often referred to his opponents by the only two things he had to identify them. Their nation and opening move. Their was polish, who he feared, and spanish who he knew he could take advantage of. There was english middle and israel left side, german protects his pieces and russian sacrifices. If they did the same he would be english left side or english force trades, english wins at the end some how.