The opening moves of a game are often a silent dialogue, filled with taunts.

If White’s 5 c4 could speak in this week’s game, it would say:

“Bet you never saw this before. You expected 5 Nxe5 so you can drag me into 5 . . . Nd7 6 Nxf7!? and show off your memorized moves.”

Black’s reply, 5 . . . e4, is a way of saying:

“OK, I don’t like 5 . . . Nb6 6 Nxe5. But now you’re just worse because your knight is attacked and 6 Ng5 Nf6 loses a pawn.”

White’s 7 Qxf3 tells Black:

“Now what are you gonna do? That pawn on d5 is like a bone in your throat after 7 . . . Nd7 8 Nc3 Nf6 9 Bc4.”

But Black’s 9 . . . e6 says:

“Take another look at the board, wise guy. Your bishop is attacked, and I’m playing 10 . . . Qxd4 next.”

White’s reply says:

“You’re the one losing a pawn after the forced 11 . . . Bxb7.

Black’s comeback, 11 . . . Qc7, says:

“What ‘forced’? I’m attacking both bishops.”

But 12 Ke2 is White’s way of saying:

“Count the pieces, buster. After 12 . . . Qxh1 13 Qxa8 Bd6 14 Qxa7, my queenside pawns win.”

The dialogue goes back and forth until White’s 23 Ra3 announces:

“Game’s over. You have no defense to 24 Rb3.”

The rest is silence.