There comes a point in learning a language when you begin looking for ways to incorporate it into things you already do.
In my case, this seemed obvious.
I am learning Italian.
I am learning chess.
Why not learn chess in Italian?
Two birds. One stone. Possibly several casualties.
A Sensible Beginning
I started, naturally, with the names of the chess pieces.
The king is il re.
The queen is la donna.
The rook is la torre.
The bishop is l’alfiere.
The pawn is il pedone.
And the knight is il cavallo.
So far, so good.
Except apparently my brain had other plans.
Because when the moment came to retrieve the Italian word for knight, I confidently produced:
Il cavolo.
Only il cavolo is not a horse.
Il cavolo is a cabbage.
However, Italian – being the expressive language that it is – has also found other employment for the humble vegetable.
Che cavolo!
What the hell!
Or, more literally and much more charmingly:
What the cabbage!
And why did cavolo apparently occupy a more accessible part of my brain than cavallo?
Because Busuu had taught me Italian swear words.
Of course it had.
Incidentally, Busuu also taught me a stronger swear word – which also starts with the letter “C” – but that’s a story for another day.
To be fair, cavallo and cavolo are dangerously close.
One extra l separates a horse from a cabbage.
This feels like an unreasonable amount of responsibility to place upon a single consonant.
Especially since the knight is already the chess piece with which I have the most complicated relationship.
Knights jump over other pieces.
Knights fork other pieces.
Knights appear on squares where I distinctly remember them not being five seconds earlier.
And now my Italian knight has apparently abandoned the board entirely and joined the vegetable aisle.