“I don’t feel that it is necessary to know exactly what I am. The main interest in life and work is to become someone else that you were not in the beginning.”
Michel Foucault
On Friday the twenty-third of December, the last eighty-five kilometers of the three hundred and more I cycled through and through this week took me to Bangkok Chess Club and back. There I played in a blitz tournament, and although a little tipsy at times, I put many people much higher rated in serious trouble, with everyone saying I am stronger now -don’t ask me how! The tournament winner I played in the last round, after the game my Lithuanian opponent rated around 2300 ELO said he was very worried about my kingside attack and was somewhat relived to win through! It was a great evening. So nice to see friends after all that has happened of late, check the video below to see what Bangkok Chess Club is all about. And before you ask, yes I do wear a bandanna, and Endgame clothing also http://www.endgameclothing.com/ , and yes the shorts I wear are army shorts, Calvin Klein of course; the colour coordination is (from top to bottom) dark green, dark blue, dark green, and then dark blue bike below -excluding the heavy orange belt. And why? I’m Irish/Scots by ancestry, that’s why. Why is the hue dark in both cases, well just look into their respective histories to find that answer. But just before you peek at the vid, Peter’s good website can be found here. http://bangkokchess.com/
I appear @ 0.15 and 1.18, BKK itself appears @ 4.00.
Chess is about struggles is it not?
“I’m no prophet. My job is making windows where there were once walls.”
“In everyone there sleeps A sense of life lived according to love. To some it means the difference they could make By loving others, but across most it sweeps, As all they might have done had they been loved. That nothing cures.”
Faith Healing -Philip Larkin
Depart here: arrive there. I amabout to ‘win the exchange’, to put it metaphorically for ahead is an ascent into the sky by A380, leaving behind a bid farewell to the fragments of a life long since passed, still echoing, resonating into that to come: the resumption of the life I chose, the airline chosen to carry me there, and my child waiting for her father to carry her, therefore, an exchange of locations awaits. I will ‘win the exchange’ but it is not without an evinced sense of sorrow. To cherish that disparate fragment left behind so deeply, I will miss it…I know how I will feel and think during take-off next week: ‘Into my heart an air that kills’…one day next year the Bedfordshire chess scene will feel like ‘the land of lost content’, that I can tell … .
Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
A Shropshire Lad v.40 A. E. Housman
Behold the spectacle of Bedford Chess Club! Before departing I went there to see both it and its members new and old. It was great to thank Mr. Paul Habershon for the help he has given and to be escorted to the bar by Mr. Nigel Staddon, now 87 years old, able to answer the questions I posed. It was also a pleasure to meet Mr. Steve Pike, and have a chat at the bar… in fact I wonder and ask myself did I spend more time chatting in the bar than in the club watching games? All in all, truly amazing it was and whether or not I had drunk cider just before never mattered…not that I would ever do such a thing you understand being on the medication that I am!
Oops! Now where’s that delete button gone?
At the centre of the county scene flourishes Bedford Chess Club. I was so welcomed, it was so very touching but within my heart a sadness spoke too, it said ‘When you close the door as you leave, you must say goodbye to not just the members but the club as a whole’. Many I met were kind and so polite, happy to see me again. There was much to talk about and part of me wanted not to go but to stay… .
I left the building and there something left me…when the exit door was opened it jarred then splintered through my heart…but I remembered as one door closes another opens, and close it I did…so upon the street I stood alone… .
“Loneliness clarifies. Here silence stands Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken, Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken, Luminously-peopled air ascends; And past the poppies bluish neutral distance Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach Of shapes and shingle. Here is unfenced existence: Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach.”
Here -Philip Larkin
There, stood staring into an avenue empty, my brain stopped processing for a split second or two: then I heard the trees arching over rustle in the wind that gusted suddenly, saw the street lights become brighter, felt the pain of ‘farewell’ sharpening, and for a moment I was disorientated.Towards the train station I walked happy but sad, sad but happy as I had an evening so inspired by the courtesy and company of others, and it cannot be repeated… .
To the action… .
In Bedford 3, I offer assistance to Steve Pike’s son at @6.10 then appear!
Farewell beloved Bedford Chess Club…it was such a pleasure, I do hope one day I will see you again…once I have won the exchange (of locations) and played on with a better position…perhaps I will return with my daughter to play also…if I can free us up… .
“Every time we make the decision to love someone, we open ourselves to great suffering, because those we most love cause us not only great joy but also great pain. The greatest pain comes from leaving. When the child leaves home, when the husband or wife leaves for a long period of time or for good, when the beloved friend departs to another country or dies … the pain of the leaving can tear us apart. Still, if we want to avoid the suffering of leaving, we will never experience the joy of loving. And love is stronger than fear, life stronger than death, hope stronger than despair. We have to trust that the risk of loving is always worth taking.”
Henri J. M. Nouwen
Life moves us on. And on. And whilst at the station awaiting an extortionately priced train to where I grew up, that afternoon of horrendous delays extended long into the evening… . It was then, and only then, that my love of the chess club in Bedford became perceptible as a dissonant fragment of a life long passed by, thus a cynical epiphany occurred. I told myself, ‘what I tolerate, so must my child, as she will endure what I endure’. Crap train service as always, for example. I told myself, ‘If you tolerate this (extortionate and crap train service) then your child will be (the) next (to tolerate this extortionate and crap train service)’… .
Who said that the current generation of players are ‘the computer generation’? Like as if it is they and only they? Was it those who were once described as a bunch of sycophant charlatans, educational hoodwinkers who conjured such a deplorable use of ‘the’, that being the definite article? Weren’t we all -way back whenever- at it wiv’ em? I know I certainly was before the bonce got bashed up… . Here’s the proof that helped the most become my school chess champion… .
I’m tempted to ask ‘Do you remember Sargon II?’ but I think the more correct question is ‘How could you possibly forget Sargon II?’
You pretend to what you say you feel You pretend that you’re something special All your lies that you hide behind I see right through you See right through you
The Perfect Life – Steve Wilson
In the final day, which had two rounds of the Bedfordshire County Championship in May 2010, tragedy struck. In the break between the morning and afternoon game I sat by myself as quiet and deep in thought as always. A close friend called to say that our mutual friend and Irish man Tom O’Grady had suddenly died. His hospital told him his cancer returned and he had five days to live only… . They were correct, he died five days later. Leaving his two teenager sons behind. They lost the father they loved, his family lost a member so beloved, his many friends he was so close to lost a great companion…upon the cricket pitch I had wandered into, there I stood remembering how charming his banter was, the intellectual American lady I knew was much pleasured by his gentlemanly, jovial and captivating tête-à-têtes always within earshot of anyone nearby wherever he was… .
She said “The water has no memory.” For a few months everything about our lives was perfect. It was only us, we were inseparable. But gradually, she passed into another distant part of my memory, until I could no longer remember her face, her voice, even her name.
The Perfect Life – Steve Wilson
So hurt I remained on the pitch since I was more isolated there, standing towards where the horizon broadened with that which withered and that which did not. Of all people to be taken away…why…why him? I stopped so very hurt knowing he had suffered so greatly for so long…his child autistic and in need of such great care, then of course, the two stabbings in London…was he really the same thereafter? Poor, poor Tom.
We have got, we have got a perfect life – The Perfect Life – Steve Wilson
I could not go home on that day at that time so play on I did. It was my worst game ever. In shock, I never wanted to be there, never spoke to anyone, never concentrated, and stood at the window to stare into the fields beyond so that no one would see when tears flowed from my eyes. I could not try in my game and lose I did. It mattered not. You must never play chess under such tragic circumstances for its outcome can never matter…life itself matters more…R. I. P Tom O’Grady. Good bye my good friend.
Take your pride, take your vanity. Can’t you see that your ego’s empty. The Perfect Life – Steve Wilson
The writer of that below is so talented and clever. You won’t guess what it is about because that’s his style.
‘Then you leave me like the others.’ Unbeliever -Therapy?
Great news point number 1: so swiftly I recover so all doctors say…
‘Leave me too much time on my own.’ Unbeliever -Therapy?
Great news point number 2: understand what they say well I do, although one or two small points I am an unbeliever of there are…
‘All I want is a trace of recognition.’ Unbeliever -Therapy?
A finishing off: the blog continues and will continue on but should it ever cease, which based on the evidence presented is unlikely, well as stated in ‘Do you differ from the dead?’ you know why… .
‘Your silence is as heavy as my eyes.’ Unbeliever -Therapy?
The greatest chess-related victory in my life was bringing a child into the world who was born out of her father’s love of chess, as he met her mother at a tournament. Even her initials suggest that at one point, she was the world’s youngest GM -but by name not prowess (which is why I requested she had no middle name)! And also, the chess community we were central to at the time was truly overjoyed that we brought a child into the world because I took more interest in her mother than the demise of my defeated opponents at their tournament that year. Still today it is spoken about and of course they all love my daughter, being the happy child she is!
Here is a video that shows her entry into the world and her development there after. There are many references to and pictures of chess…oh, I should also add that when I lived in the UAE I was a professional photographer for a short while, so you will be able to establish which photos were shot be me with consulate ease. There’s some video too, you might find her reaction to her first introduction to chess amusing, I know I certainly do.
The one picture that indicates the location where the causal chain formed and resulted in her birth 541 days later is at the 7.35 mark, as the table in the background is where I first met her mother in the 5-star hotel where the tournament took place. I also want to say that I only use SLRs on a shoot, so putting together a video took quite some time but it does stand out far above all others. The pictures offer a chronology of her first 9 months and some great piano music lies within also. Enjoy!
Thankfully, my daughter did not lose her father last month. Let us hope she will have a loving father for now and forever more… .
How can I be sure I’m here?
The pills that I’ve been taking confuse me,
I need to know that someone sees that,
There’s nothing left, I simply am not here.
Porcupine Tree – Fear of a Blank Planet
Imagine you are a child, would a preference to play chess instead of play with an xbox remain simpatico after being offered both? For me yes. Some evidence, perhaps anachronistic perhaps not, is corroborated below.
Yep that’s me, very early 1980s at Xmas party against a drunken family friend. I say that because I remember the photo being taken.
Another Xmas party. That’s not my father, I never had one. I come from a broken Scots/Irish immigrant family on the roughest street of my whole town. Again I remember the photo taken, the gentleman in it was called Brian, I liked him very much.
Don’t try engaging me,
The vaguest of shrugs,
The prescription drugs,
You’ll never find a person inside.
Porcupine Tree – Fear of a Blank Planet
But if you watch the video below, shot about 15 miles south of where I am as I type, you may see that the youth of modern day England, if well-represented here, have an altogther different preference to mine -and just look at what it does to them! Deranged they are and a very sorry sight indeed! Those poor souls grow up in my same country as me but one that is rather foreign it must me said.
‘The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there.’ L. P. Hartley
Pity them you must and enjoy the guitaring you shall should you click on the video below.
Whilst the undefeated chess champion of my school, one of the very first things chess taught me about life is that society is hierarchical and that to ascend from circles predominately working class, to the acquiescent middle & upper-classes is essential because therein a communal interest can be embraced by those more distinguished, more able to broaden your horizon beyond what is intrinsic & extrinsic to our beautiful game as well as the community which flourishes within it and whatever remains extraneous to that…before I left school, unlike the kids in the video above, I learnt that life is contingent but subjugated by my own relentless and solitudinous study of chess and only chess.
A champion enraptured by a solitudinuous study of chess with a fantastic taste in music already, don’t you think Metallica fans? I was already tactically astute at this stage: 9 months before this photo was taken, when Luton A played Leighton Buzzard C on March 24th 1988, I was playing on Board 3 wearing a green jumper and tore Lynn Rose apart over the board, he was rated 130. He couldn’t even make it to the time control!
“No one can construct for you the bridge upon which precisely you must cross the stream of life, no one but you yourself alone.”
Given that this is a website about chess rather than tales about my life-threatening injuries and obscure music videos from the 90s. I have decided to update my status on twitter and not here from now on. https://twitter.com/McCreadyChess
In one hour twenty minutes I will enter the Brain Injury Centre nearest to me for yet more analysis, the results of which will be posted in Twitter.
“The educated differ from the uneducated as much as the living differ from the dead.”
Aristotle
Greetings readers, er…um…oh yes, as I die I regret to inform you that add to this site I cannot…should no further posts be added, it is because I have died…if the site reverts to its original wordpress format, once again it is because I have died. The change in name of the site will verify my death and, presumably, the ensuing welcome to hell.
Must I ‘Stare as eyes uphold me and wait to see right through and curse me’? I ask because ‘tears are flowing free, passing by as I die’.
During the latest 50 km ride I was hit by a pick-up truck travelling at 80kmh, this threw me into another vehicle, after which I smashed into the road unconscious. I was then dragged to the pavement, robbed and left for dead.
In November 1992 how deeply admired they were and 24 years on the adoration remains unfurled, the class manifest musically, was able to remain embedded in a quintessentially obsessed psyche…aha, ahaha ha ha happy days!!!!!!
‘Sin the last diversion, my fate will be untouched…dismissed now…’
The police informed me it is a miracle that I survived. I had to be taken to two hospitals as I had an enormous blood clot in my brain. The blood has been drained but I am severely brain damaged and paralyzed. I have a 9 inch scar in my skull, I am unable to walk properly, I cannot use my arms as one of them is split open, my back makes it hard to sit too. Everyday I lose my vision and capacity to think. The circuitry in my brain is so badly damaged, I collapse everyday and am close to death or so it feels. My family flew half way round the world to help save my life and inform me that I am improving.
‘Taking a chance and take what you gain. My soul it has no price. Total release is out of harms way until I can decide.’
A true belief: I have only been home to a paradise lost England once in the last seven years but I will die if I am not flown home instantly or so I am told. I am already signed up to undergo a program at a Brain Trauma centre in my home town and have been told I may recover after three months or perhaps after two years: whichever remains more probable my fate will be untouched by the anger of a fool and possibly altered by the vicissitudes of those, having remained lifelong friends and crippled by love are thus less capricious than melodically mentioned sinners who are sung about by one of Britain’s greatest ever bands.
‘Reaping through the truth’
It is impossible for me to post until I have recovered, which could take years. Everyday I lose my vision and memory. I no longer know who I am and cannot tell you anything about this site, as well as chess itself.
‘You punish me, can’t you see, I’m not real!’
Once again, I hope to post here in a few months time. If nothing is posted, it is because I am dead. Four doctors claimed it was impossible to survive the operation I undertook but I did. The police were absolutely gobsmacked that I survived such an enormous impact but I did. I am over the worst of the incident but I am still close to death. Rest assured that if nothing is posted within the next few months, nothing ever will be. I do not expect to survive as I am told I should already be dead by so many. I am not dead but I am paralyzed and now broke as the operation was expensive and I am no longer able to work.
‘Shadows haunt the night, burning my disguise’
Hopefully I will recover and post more info. If I make it home alive and have regained my memory, I will play for Bedfordshire again as well as further my interest in the offers of Professorship that two of the world’s most important chess historians have offered me…I lose my vision everyday wherein paradise is lost…but if I recover such progress is possible.
‘Forgive me as I die’
With no further contact, I wish you good luck in your life as I die.
The Bedfordshire county chess team may benefit from extra firepower next season after I was contacted by ‘Big Vern’, about playing on the bottom board. ‘Big Vern’ whose exploits and activities are sometimes the subject of a comic strip in Viz, has recently been spotted in the Ukraine, as is verified here.
The ‘Vern’ plans to give his ‘shootahs’ a rest and lie-low for a bit, going incognito somewhere quiet like Kempston or Harrold, far away from the murky underworld he usually inhabits. ‘Big Vern’ apparently learnt the game whilst ‘goin’ grey in a chokey (British slang for prison)’ as he put it, and ‘might be available some Sundays’ I am informed.
…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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