Deep in the darkest winter, when Covid came and ravaged the country, I was stuck indoors, unable to go out, unwilling to because it was so cold.
Under candlelight I played chess online for the team MK Phoenix, who participated in the London League, the 4NCL as it’s known.
But I grew up in little Bedfordshire, and there I played most of my chess. I knew of the London league back then because some of our league players played in it also, but only our very best. And so, I grew up weary of them, the prestige that league had, and never thought myself good enough to gain an invite for a team there.
But everything changed during lockdown and play in it online I did. I only played 5 games or so and scored 50%. Here is the final position from one of my games, the best of them I think.
Yes I am white and obviously I am winning. In the chat, my opponent said ‘well played’ at the end of the game. I never let him off the hook and held the initiative throughout.
Here is a link to the game itself. Division 7, round 4, you will need to scroll through the drop down menu.
“And those who were seen dancing were thought to beinsane by those who could not hear the music.” — F. Nietzsche
Who said triangulating passions was ever easy? You trundle into town on the train to see one, behind it lies another, and going live a third oh how to play it… .
“Knowledge subverts love: in proportion as we penetrate our secrets, we come to loathe our kind, precisely because they resemble us.” ― Emil Cioran
Early Morning
I awoke this Sunday morning unsure of what I would do with the day. For only yesterday I had spent the whole day in ‘the big smoke’ escorting students around. And in case you are not aware, London is always heaving with tourists in the summer. Did I want another day of being swamped by them? As I lay in bed, it did not take more than an hour to decide I wanted to enter the city to watch the annual ChessFest unfold. I wasn’t sore from yesterday’s walk and it beat lazing around all day in bed. So some hours later I readied thyself for the eleven am train, two tickets, and a loss of £22.50… .
Late Morning
“Human behaviour flows from three main sources: desire, emotion, and knowledge. “ — Plato
Roll out of bed I did. Roll into town too. Ze Beacon to be precise. Marks & Spencer’s even more so for two cheese and onion sandwiches priced £2.30 each. Then I did, fortuitously, bump into colleagues having breakfast shortly before boarding the train. The train, the journey. I closed my eyes for much of it. The train was empty, the journey quiet, noticeably uneventful… .
When I arrived at Victoria Station I enquired whether trains departed from there to Canterbury and if so how often. Then I walked to Trafalgar Square, it wasn’t far. I only had to cut across SW1, backstreets -the most famous of which being Buckingham Place- then onto the parks by the palace until the square came into site… .
Early Afternoon
“The problems are solved, not by giving new information, but by arranging what we have known long since.” – Wittgenstein.
The Chessfest at Trafalgar Square was in full swing when I arrived. But something seemed so wrong from the get go. How could it be so busy so early in the day? Were who I saw playing chess really chess players or just tourists in the vicinity at the current time? But much more importantly, how was I to be? Why exactly was I there? Yes I had concerns that the event would not live up to its billing but it wasn’t only about the chess. I also had Ze National Gallery within reach, and there was Ze Men’s Wimbledon Final to watch on my tablet too. Thought was required on how to triangulate those and squeeze them all in side-by-side so that they didn’t overlap… .
Before I had a look round I challenged some Chinese guy to a quick game. But he was rubbish and got himself mated early in the middle game. After a quick walk round with some pics taken, it became obvious that discovering a schedule for events was not possible and I also wasn’t sure exactly when the tennis started. I knew the programme for it started at two but thought the tennis itself started at three. I was wrong and tuned in early in the first set. Chess quickly took a backseat as I watched that first set play out on the steps to Ze National Gallery, in and amongst all those playing chess. With the first set over, I walked around some more, chatted occasionally and took more pics. Watching the tennis began on the steps in the square where I could keep an eye on the chess too but this proved to be far from ideal. Too much glare from the sun made viewing difficult so I crept into Ze National Gallery, planted myself down in from of some Turner masterpieces and watched the third set there. But that wasn’t enough. I had a walk round and saw Carvaggio as well as several others such as Monet, Friedrich and Pissaro. Tennis took over and only when sets were won would I leave the gallery and go and watch some chess… .
After the third set in the tennis, live chess was played in the square. I took an interest as seeing it was a first but I didn’t really like how it was done, so my interest didn’t last long. In the first game the play was paused as a quiz question was asked; namely, what is the name of the opening being played. It was I who answered correctly and enabled play to continue (The Sicilian Defence)… .
The tone of the afternoon was set: tennis, gallery, chess. Time passed fast, so fast. Soon it was close to a fifth set and the chess had barely an hour left. I decided to walk back to Victoria station so that I could watch the end of the match on the train, which I did -well done Alcaraz!
“Without music, life would be a mistake.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols
What to do with chess exploits this weekend then? Just how much chess do I want in my life? We do have the opportunity to frequent a new chess club tomorrow and also to visit the chessfest in London. https://www.chess-fest.com/
For that a quiet train ride on a Sunday afternoon is required, yes with the Wimbledon Men’s Final that afternoon to juggle too, but a first chessfest it is and win through is has done.
One outing per weekend for chess is quite enough thank you. I asked work to ensure I would be free Sunday, and so a Sunday afternoon of chess in London it be. I shan’t be dedicating myself entirely to it since The National Gallery just behind where the action kicks off in Trafalgar Square is quite something too. Last time there, mightily impressed with Canaletto I was.
So I might just play in a simul, well maybe, supposing it’s an option even. All in all it shall be quite enough methinks, and if its all too much, then more priority to in The National Gallery and the Wimbledon Men’s Final will be granted before I stroll off to Victoria Station where I shall catch a south-bound train to the coastline. Do I think an outing of chess this weekend is better off alone? Yes. Sometimes one is enough.
Mark. J. McCready, 8.23pm, Thursday, July 13th Room 6, 114 Pevensey Road, Eastbourne.
You know how it is. You work late. You fall behind schedule. New location, new chess club. Not as easily found as I thought. Eventually I got there. And although I was told it started at seven, it was closer to nine when I arrived. When I arrived there was only four people present and they were packing up. Some woman suggested that someone unpack and give me a quick game but I got out of that fast with excessive politeness. I wasn’t in need of a game and didn’t want to play anyone. I was the youngest there: I wanted to get out fast. Dead atmosphere despite the attention of me being new. Very politely I declined the off the cuff suggestion of ‘a quick game’ as quickly as I could. And that was that.
Should I return to Eastbourne Chess Club? I don’t know. I have phased out chess from my life more and more and more this year and I would like it to continue that way. Yes less has become more but. Maybe I will bother, maybe I won’t. Who knows… .
With no competitive chess in play, it could be argued that I am going unpunished for allowing bad habits to seep into my game. But what is this! ‘No competitive chess’? Do tell us Mark, must it always be this way? No. Depending on work constraints, I may enter a tournament in August. Thanet – a Kentish peninsula – to be precise: https://www.eastkentchess.org.uk/congress .
5 games over 3 days with the chance to spend time with a close friend in his country mansion sounds good enough but what needs to be done then? What needs to be done? As things stand, on line chess has been banished but it will have to be reintroduced with a longer time frame (minimum 30 mins) because due to sloppiness I have stopped assessing my opponents moves in terms of threats and reasons for being played. This must be corrected: and corrected poste haste. If only to get back in shape and to ready myself.
The Damned
Online ratings have dropped and packed off into oblivion. There’s a new rose in town and it is OTB@daklubb.
The Obsessive
How do we reverse bad habits and undo what we have done? Not easy is it? To look forwards and not backwards helps but does it help enough? But that repeated action which whirs on and on and on, is really nothing more than a vestige of the past or is it?
No chess apps kept on tablet. No more on line chess. No viewing tournaments on line. No chess outside my home club. No thinking about chess. No other contact with the beautiful game.
Yesterday I told myself to visit the chess club but I couldn’t. I told myself to because it was meant to be my last visit to the club this year and I wanted to say goodbye to friends and playing partners there. But somehow it didn’t feel quite right, it wasn’t really goodbye.
Most of the members @Bangkok Chess Club are transient and I am no exception. I have relocated many times before, only to return the following year, and for this reason it didn’t really feel like a ‘goodbye’ more so a ‘see you soon’.
But I am not up for it, Mentally I am not strong enough and I am awaiting results from blood tests. I cannot play chess. I cannot do anything. I just sit and wait and hope for a brighter future.
Yesterday I had a plan. That plan was to take the skytrain and enter the city. Stop off at my favourite Indian restaurant for a vegetable curry. Get back on the skytrain and go to my hospital for my medication (I have hypermania), then go to the chess club. But that way go it did not. Within minutes of getting on the skytrain I fell critically ill. My whole world collapsed around me because the week before (subject of The visit that never was) I suffered so immensely from my life being threatened that I have been in a state of near collapse ever since. All I could do was hang on for dear life on the skytrain, try my hardest to walk to the hospital, collect my medication, and go back home. It was not very pleasant to arrive at the station I was supposed to get off to go to the chess club and then watch it go by but I had no choice, I was so sick mentally. By the time I got home, it wasn’t even 7pm but I had to fall into bed immediately and lie still all night long. Being the true hypermaniac that I am, of course sleep was not possible, and yes of course it’s not possible tonight also and no it won’t be possible tomorrow night either but these are trivialities. Like I said in the previous post, when your life is close to being taken away from you, you aren’t going to like it and you aren’t going to know what to do. What I didn’t say was it’s not something you can just walk away from and expect to be as right as rain the next day either. And what I couldn’t say was how sure I was of what was happening around me. Was I so startled that I couldn’t see things straight? The answers are coming, the answers are coming, a conclusion will be created… .
Yesterday, I didn’t have the power to play chess. I felt so wounded. I felt confused. I just wanted to go home, close my eyes and make everything go away. I could not speak to anyone, not even my own daughter. All I could do was lie still for many hours, not even hoping that my wounds would heal. I cannot put into words how hurt I have been and if that isn’t bad enough I must wait weeks before I can learn if I have been left with a terminal illness too, one which will eventually destroy my immune system and take my life from me.
Mark. J. McCready, 02.13 am, Sunday April 30th 2023
A quiet and lonely place where I have cried most days this week, Laksi, Bangkok.
Suppose that you have a job, you have income, and you have time off -like most of us. Suppose that you take holidays and like to factor chess into them. That could mean entering a tournament or maybe just visiting a club to meet locals and survey the scene there -with a few pics for your Instagram account, or Facebook or whatever your preferred social media platform is.
Don’t tell me you don’t use any of them, I know you do!
Does this sound quite normal or quite abnormal? I can assure you, having been posted abroad for almost a quarter of a century now, it’s common to meet chess players who travel abroad to play our beautiful game because the options are boundless all year round. A great many do it, but I apologize, I can’t give you an exact number. Instead, let’s just assume it to be in the tens of thousands of those who have and continue to do so. Professional players, of course, make their living by travelling and playing chess at the same time, some of whom are on record as stating they have done so in over 100 countries. Admittedly, I have only played chess in 6 different countries, posing as the official photographer in only one of them.
We all blunder in chess no matter how good we are. The only difference being the frequency with which it occurs. We blunder away in life too, although this may be less obvious, depending on how well you know yourself, your take on consequentialism, and various other mitigating factors aided and abetted by your own drunkeness, tomfoolery, absentmindedness, dubious driving habits…I could go on.
Don’t do drugs!
Let us suppose you twice intend to visit the very same chess club on your hols, putting in the necessary groundwork in beforehand, establishing where the club is located, when they meet, and so on. But it doesn’t happen. It doesn’t happen on your first trip. It doesn’t happen on your second trip. Why? How can a scheduled part of your holiday not come into play, and not just once but twice?
In asking such a broad question, invariably a multitude of plausible explanations arise. And not only that, crucial elements can be easily overlooked too. For example, what happens to people when they go on holiday? Do they stay the same or do they go into party mode and just want to have fun? After all, that’s what holidays are supposed to be all about right? Over the years I’ve seen all sorts of things go on including chess players spend thousands travelling half-way round the world to enter a prestigious international tournament and then weren’t even capable of making it out of their hotel let alone make it to the first round, owing to a drink problem so severe they were paralytic before the tournament began, as the tournament started, and then only got worse. I’ve seen GMs fly on in and party so hard they would resurface at each round looking either massively hung over or completely drunk still from the night before, causing them to behave erratically at the board and sometimes just resign on the spot. On one occasion a GM fell so far down the rankings, he was paired against one of my friends, who I have beaten in the past as we were both rated about 1900 then. Even my friend beat him because he was that hung over and didn’t want to play on!
Life doesn’t always go as planned, we all learn that as we mature. On holiday the likelihood increases as we tend to enjoy ourselves too much and this often factors in an excess of things, which aren’t good for us. Things like alcohol and drugs for example. Sometimes things develop which are good for us but derail our plans. You might meet a nice woman you want to spend time with, which might take priority over previously made plans. When you go abroad wanting to have a bit of fun, its hard to know exactly where it will take you, and for that reason what you had planned may not come about. As long as we’ve had some fun and enjoyed ourselves, our plans can be cast aside for another time, can’t they? Isn’t that how it goes?
I recently visited Cambodia, and its capital Phnom Penh. I see it as my second home in Asia because I used to live and work there and know the place pretty well. It’s a place where I can meet former colleagues, close friends, ex-girlfriends and enjoy a thriving ex-pat scene. It’s a city that has shown a greater degree of progress over the last 15 years than any other in south-east Asia and has a lot to offer. Not only that, the Khmer people are sincere, humble and hard-working. They are also very friendly and pretty good at speaking English too. They occupy a city untainted by tourism, and that cannot be said of the bigger cities in the same region. Unlike Bangkok, the closest major city to it, Phnom Penh isn’t a tourist trap full of hustle and bustle all day and all night long. Instead, it offers relaxing walks along the riverside, adorned by royal palaces and feels far more laid back. There are no roads gridlocked by traffic, only streets where anyone will offer their services to you if you need something or cannot find your way around. A stark contrast indeed.
Seen from the riverside Phnom Penh.
But despite my efforts I never did make it to the chess club on both my recent trips and I am too ashamed to say why. Okay, well I was whilst writing the previous sentence but I am not now. On the first occasion my own very bad habits got the better of me and made me so sick I had to spend days in bed recovering, missing the opportunity, and on the second I was accompanied by an ex-girlfriend from back yonder and that…erm, well, dominated proceedings shall we say. Or should we say being a romantic old fool, I didn’t want to leave her side? Unabashed hedonism with no regard to the consequences was what wiped out the chance of any chess and it’s absolutely fine, it really is. On my list of ‘to do’ things it wasn’t very high up. And what is true of my chess is true of my life too. I have made so many blunders throughout my life that they are no longer soul-destroying, having just rendered hours of effort to emerge victorious no longer possible. When I blunder in chess and life, the result is always the same. I feel nothing. Part of me expects it at some point. If I do not blunder yes there is a sense of relief but that is all I am capable of feeling: that and only that. I am not sad that I didn’t visit Phnom Penh Chess Club. Why? Because holidays can and do go badly wrong sometimes. Crime exists everywhere. Only death is real when confronted with your own. And no you won’t like it very much. And no you won’t know what to do. Most certainly it will radically alter the nature of your holiday, and for me, trigger an arresting escalation from being robbed on a deserted street late at night, as happened on the first visit, where all I lost was all my possessions instead of my life. May I offer some advice? As Franklyn D. Roosevelt once said ‘the only thing you have to fear is fear itself’. If danger, or wrongly perceived danger, comes your way, just punch your way out of it. Twice I tried to do that and twice my soon to be opponent backed off super-swiftly. It’s just a shame I couldn’t keep it up. Almost all who threaten only do so to scare you into getting what they want. And they will do so mercilessly because at the bottom of it all lies the undeniable truth that in Asia: life is cheap. Turn the tables on them with real intent and watch what happens -and don’t take too long about it either! Tough when your life is on the line but necessary. It will stop your opponent from thinking about killing you and suddenly start them thinking about how to defend themselves instead. Anger -and yes I do mean of the explosive kind- is your saviour, and your only saviour trust me -just don’t kill anyone!
And on that note I had better leave it there once more proud of myself for employing a Nietzschean technique, which my professor described as ‘pulling the rug from under your feet’.
‘From the military school of life: That which does not kill me only makes me stronger’.
F. Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols
Comment from fan of the site: ‘I see this McCready is at it again, he loves to break the boundaries of chess just because he thinks its too conservative. He loves to trick you into thinking the content is chess-related then pulls you in different directions and inserts content that alters your emotions whilst reading. I take my hat off to him, he’s bloody good at it but I wish I hadn’t read this. Who wants to read about what to do if their life is threatened. He really is a bad sport this McCready fellow.‘
Comment from critique of the site:‘I don’t like this post. That bloody McCready has put the fear of god up me! I was going to go to Rio De Janeiro but I think I’ll go to Bognor Regis instead! No I won’t! I’m going nowhere now! I’m staying at home! Bloody terrible post this is! Wish I hadn’t have read it now!’
Mark. J. McCready 6.39pm, Saturday April 29th 2023,
…on what this site initially became…on what this site is now becoming…on what this site cannot become…
On what this site initially became…
…once upon a time, the chess-related musings of an adrift academic were bound playfully and electronically in this online journal of sorts. They grew and grew as the decade did too. I kept on because I love to write whether I had much to say or not; therefore, being read by others was usually of little or no importance, comparatively speaking. Content was based on personal thoughts and experience on various topics with no intended audience borne in mind. With topics broadening, my own take on things always shaped the narrative I constructed: I often thought I was insightful but never that I was right. Sometimes imagination gave rise to originality: and of that I have always remained proud. I often introduced humour, believing that I am funnier than I really am. Sometimes, I found my own style antithetical to the conservatism I believe chess is plagued by -oftentimes that has put a gracious smile on my face… .
On what this site is now becoming…
…this site is now becoming a collaboration of chess in Bedfordshire: much more so of the past than the present -that has become the dominant trend. I document the history of chess in Bedfordshire as much as I can, and as time has passed I have become more thorough and resourceful. However, I am not a trained historian as my background lies principally in philosophy but yes it is true I did study some modules on history as both an undergraduate and a post-graduate too; furthermore, I have trained myself up, particularly in terms of postmodern history. Since 2015, I have only read history and historiography as well as those philosophers who have been so influential on postmodern history, such as Nietzsche (whom I once wrote a 19,000 word dissertation on, entitled: Can the Will to Power be Found in The Birth of Tragedy?), also Richard Rorty and Foucault and I suppose certain structualists such as Claude Levi-Strauss too. Regarding postmodernism, mostly I keep to Hayden White, Keith Jenkins and Alan Muslow.
Some friends and former playing partners back home describe me as the ‘go to guy’ for the history of chess in Bedfordshire. This compliment says more about the lack of interest in the subject than my own endeavour. As mentioned, I am too adrift from academia to feel chuffed by it. Rather, I tend to lament that my historical research, like my chess, just isn’t what it should be. Even though I may well have a broad understanding of Bedfordshire chess history courtesy of the volume of research put into it, all of which began in 2014, this is not something I am particularly proud of. Nonetheless, out of courtesy compliments are graciously received. If the truth be told, I just see it as my job and only that – after all someone’s got to do it and no one else is that interested!
Amongst the many others, I have created three categories: ‘Bedfordshire Chess’ and ‘History of Bedfordshire Chess’ and ‘Luton Chess Club’. This website is slowly moving towards a consolidation of those (all of which can be found in one of the toolbars to the right).
On what this site cannot become…
…I like to be both creative and amusing when I can be, factor in that playfulness has been an ever-present factor, the content of this site should be thought of as multifarious. It could be said I continue to enjoy undermining the conservatism I believe chess is underpinned by even after all these years, and often try to use humour to do it still, believing I have got better at it. Consequently, despite the general direction its going in, this site cannot only be about Chess in Bedfordshire and nor will it be. It may become noted for that yes -in fact that’s been the case for years already even by established historians, archivists, and whoever else. External factors aside, this site is titled McCreadyandChess. I cannot, nor will I not, remove my own personal thoughts and experiences of chess from the posts of this site -especially if I think they are funny or original for they constitute my writing at its very, very best. In addition, the number of categories alone tells you that breadth of content is important to me. I am proud of my site, it is identity conferring and that is how it shall stay -end of story. All you really have are: ‘Some thoughts on the beautiful game’, which, incidentally, just happen to be my very own; nothing more, nothing less, take of it whatever you please… .
A side note on how to read old Tom Sweby's columns
Not perhaps, but quintessentially, Old Tom Sweby is best thought of as a passionate devotee to the newspapers he wrote for. He was well read and knowledgeable of the Bedfordshire chess scene and well beyond, given that he was the president of the S.C.C.U. once upon a time. He was generally well-respected and rubbed shoulders with many, if not all, of those eminent within British chess circles. It would, however, be a critical mistake to see his column is primary source material entirely. That it is not. You will also find secondary source material quoted too, and the reliability of that is not quite as Tom hoped. Given that he wrote for decades, this is to some degree inevitable, and after all we are all prone to error whether we realize it or not. Thankfully, with regards to old Tom Sweby, they are infrequent and for the most part old Tom continued to document events and developments in the Bedfordshire league from the get go as best he could but, of course, everything lies open to interpretation. Despite this, and generally speaking. this does indeed make him informative and thus worth reading. Dare I say his columns constitute a narrative describing the latest developments, match reports and changing nature of the Beds league...he knew his audience and wrote according. This manifested itself over decades but brevity was always in play courtesy of the restictions imposed by writing a column. Should you wish to read a in instrumental figure of the Beds' league post WW2, you are quite welcome to peruse what has been posted here... . :-) I should, however, point out that as the decades wore on he gradually moved on away from narratives concerning the Bedfordshire league towards affairs both historical and international. The reasons for this are multifarous, old age was a predominante factor presumably, however, the bottom line is with regards to how the Bedfordshire chess scene developed post WW2: old Tom Sweby is your go to guy. He wrote more about chess in Bedforshire than anyone else did but given he was a Lutonian and writing for a Luton newspaper there is both bias and greater coverage of his hometown than the rest of the county.
Gallery
I’m either 10 or 11 here
1982, myself versus Brian from Sunderland.
At the Thai Junior chess championships. My daughter of course.
Pattaya 2011
2011
Thai Junior Championships
2008
2011
Around 2011
2011
Pattaya 2009
2011
Kuwait 2008
2012
2012
2011 BKK Chess club
2011
2011 Thai Open
2011 Thai Open
2013 approx
Around 2014
2010
2012
Around 2011
2011
2011
2013
Around 2011
Around 2011
2020
2011
2008
2011
2013 or thereabouts
2010
2017
2014?
2010
2024
2024
2024
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