Archive for the ‘Personal Interest & Experience’ Category

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Grace contemplates a double-knight sac in one move.

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An unusual position created by Ms. McCready

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I recently went home for the first time in five years and participated in the Beds. league once more. My club, which has been struggling for many years now was at home against the mid-Bedfordshire giants Leighton Buzzard A, current champions of Bedfordshire. It was wonderful to see everyone again and be a part of something that I miss so much. My addition to the team, along with Damon D’Cruz meant that an unfancied and outgraded Luton team, pulled off a stunning victory and beat the very best in the league. After the match, our captain Michael Josephs could not stop smiling. There was a sense that when we are all back together again, this is what we can do. I left feeling proud that I had helped us win the match, it was a lovely evening. Kents Luton v Leighton Buzzard A

Home Team: Kents Luton Away Team: Leighton Buzzard A
Board Name Grade Score Score Name Grade
1 Andrew Perkins 183 1 0 Stephen Law 193
2 Damon D’Cruz 159 0 1 Kevin J Williamson 174
3 Michael Joseph 149 0.5 0.5 Andy Tinker 174
4 Mark McCready 147e 0.5 0.5 Peter Hunt 165
5 Samir Vora 137 1 0 Brian J Valentine 169
Date Played: 30/03/2015 3 2
Wonky camera angle.

Wonky camera angle.

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On September 14th, my home county Bedfordshire showed great resolve by beating Buckinghamshire in this year’s Fleming Trophy despite the fact that we were out-graded on 15 of the 16 boards.

You can find the match result by clicking on the following link.

http://www.bedfordchess.co.uk/beds-beat-bucks/

Well done Bedfordshire.

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 “Mountains should be climbed with as little effort as possible and without desire. The reality of your own nature should determine the speed. If you become restless, speed up. If you become winded, slow down. You climb the mountain in an equilibrium between restlessness and exhaustion.”  Pirsig – Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

One Sunday afternoon in the middle of April, the Spanish Grandmaster Jose Vallejo Pons stood clutching a prized golden king to his chest amid the final applause of the closing ceremony. It was he who finished as champion of the Fourteenth Bangkok Open, with seven and a half out of nine. He was the highest rated of the forty or so titled and two hundred, or thereabouts, untitled players and thus the favourite. The lead was shared from start to finish, except for round five, being eventually decided on tie-break by just half a point with Grandmaster Oliver Barbosa finishing as runner-up. The final standings can be found here http://www.chess-results.com/tnr130151.aspx?lan=1&art=1&rd=9&turdet=YES&flag=30&wi=984. An interview with the champion by my ex-colleague Alex can be found here. http://bangkokchess.com/archives/4354.

A sense of security, like pockets jingling?

In the months leading up to the tournament, political unrest threatened its very existence, with the streets surrounding the venue seized by thousands of anti-government demonstrators playing loud music and blaring out propaganda all night long. Media stations across the globe reported the fighting that ensued, the senseless killings that occurred, and the political malaise the country had, again, sunk into. Bookings were cancelled as fast as they were taken, adjoining nations were noticeably absent, sometimes entire groups just dropped out after following ‘official advice’. The 5-star Dusit Thani, generously offered to accommodate us elsewhere should the political crises worsen, but with two weeks to go both pro-supporters and anti-government protesters promised there would be no violence over the New Year holiday when the tournament was scheduled. A decision was then made for the tournament to go ahead in the capital. And go ahead without disruption it did.

Some say we’re born into the grave.

In Thailand at New Year, many choose to leave the capital and celebrate in the provinces but the anti-government movement stayed put. They moved to the park opposite the venue and kept in good company with various other creatures. The Thai New Year, or ‘Songkran’ as it’s called, is the longest of all its public holidays, and the only one in which an eight-day chess tournament can be held. Traditionally, it is celebrated by the throwing of water but in modern times this has got drastically out of hand. The celebrations now far exceed that necessary: most spend three days or so fighting with water non-stop, be that with ice, chili or flour to add impact, staying mostly drunk in the process. The Thais are a fun-loving bunch, Songkran is the cultural apogee of what they are about. Sadly, in the ‘land of smiles’ life is cheap and people die in their hundreds each year as a result, in all manner of tragic accidents on the roads. For the Thais, to die within a cacophony of celebrations is more acceptable culturally than to die within the din of political disquietude -it is better to die on the roads than in the streets, so many believe. There was no political violence but the country’s death toll rose way beyond anything a civilized nation would consider acceptable once more, as it will do next year, and the year after that of course. And will this ever be reported as extensively? Of course not because people are having fun when they die…its a sort of cheery death at Songkran.

Chess is a contributor to net human unhappiness, since the pleasure of victory is greatly exceeded by the pain of defeat.  –  Bill Hartston

We chess players, however, can pride ourselves on being too rational to be roped into such lunacy. We opt instead to see the Thai New Year in whilst sitting amongst our clan quietly, listening to the calming whoosh of air-con for hours on end in a softly lit ballroom. A stark, but sane, contrast to the madness outside the venue. After all, who wants to have fun when there’s hours of nerve-racking chess to be played? I joined them once more, read on if you want to see how it unfolded.

A few pre-tournament thoughts – doing it my way.

I haven’t played classical chess, proper chess that is, for exactly one year now. It was my birthday when I played last, thrashing some German doctor with my Dutch Defence. I want to prove that I can handle myself and perform without regular practice still, if only to myself. I want to play with consistency and improve on my score from last year but I am not sure if that is possible. There’s neither time nor motivation for preparation these days but I focus my mind much earlier this year to give myself every chance by removing as many distractions as possible. It has to be this way: the time put aside, the money spent on entry fees and transport, and my own determination insist. I cannot double-up as daddy or even official photographer during play if I want to remain focused and find my way through the tournament.

“You look at where you’re going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you’ve been and a pattern seems to emerge.”  Pirsig – Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

A motorbike trip to Myanmar has had consequences. I broke a tooth in half and chipped my glasses during sleep one night (don’t ask me how) and then got badly burnt in the lowlands on my way back after numerous delays. The allergy to sunlight has got me wrong again…I think I’ve been in this part of the world for too long, assuming my skin is a layer of sun-cream and mosquito repellent somehow -I never put that stuff on nowadays. When the tournament begins I’ll be on strong medication and covered up…I can console myself with a tan when the skin’s recovered -ah the perils of being too British!

The day just before the tournament.

My wife has agreed to help with the pre-tournament organizations again, so the little one is with me. I take Grace to the venue to gain her seal of approval. The Nappalai Ballroom is great for her, she loves its grandeur and spends hours running through the rows of tables, stopping only to feel the carpet below and stare into the chandeliers above. She gets so excited she whacks her forehead twice. We put ice cubes on it, which she proceeds to eat then runs towards the top boards, because they are cordoned off and have swivel chairs. She spins round and round in them until daddy stops her. She’s too noisy energetic for admittance during play, so she’ll come again when play is over…the hotel staff will like that.

The first day

So I am paired against a Chinese WIM, rated 2206. I can beat her my best, which I’m nowhere near yet.

Pos1

I am white, a strange choice of opening by my opponent but an effective one as I spent too much time wondering which central pawn to push and where to put my bishops.

White plays 11 d5 and in doing so concedes the central dark squares. The black knights will come to g4 and e5. White already has many problems to solve. I was not happy with my position at all.

White plays 11 d5? and in doing so concedes the central dark squares. The black knights will come to g4 and e5. White already has many problems to solve. I was not happy with my position at all.

Pos2

I am still white! It’s black to play. I have some counter-play or do I?

Black plays 24…Rxh3!

The game then went 25 c6 Bxc6 26 dxc6 Qxc6 27 Rc1 Qd5, at which point, with barely two minutes left and 13 moves to be played still, I blundered with Qxe7. It didn’t matter as the position above is already close to lost. Fritz suggests that instead of 28 Qxe7?? I harass the black queen further with 28 Rcd1, then after …Nf3 (threatening to win the queen and mate) 29 Qg3 and Qxd1! (see diagram below)

Pos3

Not the sort of position you want in severe time trouble!

The New Year festivities will start tomorrow, so I take advantage of the quiet before the storm and go for a quick drink with a fellow Englishman. We have a very typical ex-pat conversation, with the first half spent talking about where we have been since we last met, the second half talking about football and the other half slagging England off. All in an English pub whilst drinking English beer of course!

The second day 

There is something seriously wrong with waking up at 7 am to play chess but this is what I do on day two. It’s the dreaded double round day. Not a morning player, the brain doesn’t get into gear at any point. I am paired against a Fijian CM rated 2046 first.

     The first game that dayPos34

I’ve studied the McCutcheon more than any other line in the French but I’m not awake enough to play it as it should be played…I am not awake enough to play full stop.

Kf8 is a better move than g6 here. Moving the g-pawn only creates another hole and gives white an easy attack with the h-pawn. In Kf8 lines it is the black f-pawn that usually comes under attack but black has good defensive resources, such as Bd7-e8, Ke7 and Rf8.

Kf8 is a better move than g6 here. Moving the g-pawn only creates another hole and gives white an easy attack with the h-pawn. In Kf8 lines it is the black f-pawn that usually comes under attack but black has good defensive resources, with as Bd7-e8, Ke7 and Rf8.

Still sleepy, I played ...a6?

Still sleepy, I played …a6?

In second game I face an unrated player. I never know what to do against them. Caution is the best policy, I suppose, but frustrated from being on the back foot in last two games I try too hard, over-extend and lose again… frankly, I was too tired to care -far too much chess in one day.

 The second game that day

Pos7

After 8 hours of chess, fatigue is kicking in, I am drifting in time trouble once more, I have less than 5 seconds to make my 38th move which is Rxe4. Putting me ahead in the game

Despite the material advantage a blunder 20 moves later means a third consecutive loss. I am finding my way still, so its okay. Three blunders per tournament is acceptable. I have played three games and made two in time trouble already. Not good.

Caught in a mosh!

I use public transport to go home as both the subway and sky train are close to the hotel exit. I chose the skytrain as it’s connected to a skywalk -a safe haven I thought? I’m carrying a laptop but there are water throwers everywhere. I’m still dry as I walk but the station ahead is shutting down, it’s in chaos: there are people too drunk to move off the floor, people arguing, people pushing through the turnstiles without paying, people being accosted by security, all ticket machines shut down, the floor is one massive puddle of dirty water and beer with rubbish strewn everywhere, like the street below, the skywalk is a never-ending mosh pit: squeezed between hundreds of wet bodies, I move where they do, the stench of alcohol inescapable. When I finally get on the skytrain it empties out as we head further and further into the city. There are no commuters just wet, pissed up party-goers and one dry, solemn chess player.

Defeated by three straight losses as I sit in a taxi heading into the northern suburbs. It is dusk. The roads are quiet. I am too tired to think about anything. I am staring across the expressway into the darkening sky in the distance. At speed the road’s smooth surface numbs my mind further, as I sink into my seat nothing is said between the driver and myself. I am feeling my way home through suburbia under a flat city sky, following vehicles in front at random until they disappear into the provinces beyond but somewhere, somehow I feel more alive to what is facing me tomorrow. It stays with me, that I realize as I suddenly reach home in double-quick time.

The third day 

I emulate Fischer off the board by arriving late but alas not on it. No one said rounds 4-9 are played at 2 pm and not 3.30. I arrived 17 minutes late thinking I was too early! In the game I walk into time trouble again -now there’s a surprise! I play the Sicilian Sveshnikov for the first time ever in classical chess against a fellow Englishman, who deviates early on. I should have played something I am more familiar with given the lost time. Nevermind, I enjoyed the game anyway. Look forward to playing it again.

If this diagram isn't an object of beauty, then I don't know what is. The last major theoretical discovery in chess.

If this diagram isn’t an object of beauty, then I don’t know what is. The last major theoretical discovery in chess.

With an early Nd5 black should play Qa5+ but there is a major drawback to this move. White's only sensible reply is Bd2, at which point the queen must return to d8. Since my opponent was rated lower than me, I thought he might try to grab a draw. I played Be6 instead.

With Nd5 black should play Be7 or try Qa5+.  I chose Be6 which was  premature and not the best option. The absence of preparation took its toll once more.

Black must not play Ne7?? here.

Black must not play Ne7?? here.

Having weathered a kingsude attack the queen's rook is about to enter the game with devastating effect with Rc4 and e4 or g4 to come.

Having weathered a paltry kingside attack the queen’s rook is about to enter the game with devastating effect with Rc4 and e4 or g4 to come.

The city empties for a final time…why can’t it always be like this? Why can’t everyone just stay up country and never come back? Bangkok feels like a ghost town -I love it.

In the park opposite the venue, a guard was shot and killed last night.  No one knows why…probably there wasn’t a reason. It happened during a concert, the show went on regardless I’m sure…how can someone do something like that?

The fourth day 

I was awoken by electronic renditions of ‘She’ll be comin’ round the mountain’ from the little one’s bicycle….must remember to take the batteries of that thing. Such a dubious tune reminds me not to open youtube and play 80’s tracks for the little one as I get dressed. Is there anything worse than playing chess all day with some dodgy pop song stuck in your head? Anyway, I don’t care who I play anymore or how good they are, I will attack with the white pieces. I enjoy it being on the front foot more and a win at some point would be nice!

White has just played 6 Bb5. There is a reason why the bishop should not go to c4, and that is  because black can still play e6, after which he can play Nge7 and win a tempo with d5.

White has just played 6 Bb5. There is a reason why the bishop should not go to c4, and that is because black can still play e6, after which he can play Nge7 and win a tempo with d5.

Pos53

Recapturing with the d-pawn doesn’t look right to me but that is what my opponent did.

Pos54

In Gawain Jones’s book on the Grand Prix Attack (pg.137), he claims that black must attack on the queenside immediately like this but considers it suspicious as do I.

Pos15

Returning to the game, the position after 10 Qh4. Black is already in trouble. Where is his counter-play?

After 13...Nf5. I's not often that I sac the exchange without even thinking about it but this is what I did with Rxf5. I seemed so obvious... .

After 13…Nf5. It’s not often that I sac the exchange without even thinking about it but this is what I did with 14 Rxf5 as it seemed so obvious. According to Fritz black should not recapture immediately. He must play Bd4 with …f6 to follow.

The game has moved on but my opponent is still playing strange moves. The knight is far too strong to be left on the board. I was expecting 18...Rxe4. After 18...Ke7 the attack just played itself.

The game has moved on but my opponent is still playing strange moves. The knight is far too strong to be left on the board. I was expecting 18…Rxe4 at which point it’s game on. After 18…Ke7 the attack just played itself.

Game over. After 24 Nxf8 Kd8. White plays 25 Ne6. A strange win that didn't really count owing to the play of my opponent.

Game over. After 24 Nxf8 Kd8. White plays 25 Ne6. A strange win that didn’t really count owing to the play of my opponent.

The fifth day 

I have remembered to arrive on time! Among the also-rans, I play some Norwegian dude who never speaks to anyone. Like his skinny Singaporean counterpart with his 1980’s felt sun-shade playing on the board next to us, he plays irrational, incoherent chess which makes for nothing other than hard work. I have the black pieces today.

Pos24

I play the classical Dutch and have a very good record with it. 7…a5 is a useful semi-waiting move. White often wants to expand on the queenside which it deters, but more importantly, his queen will usually come to c2, This means black can play the knight to c6, and if it is attacked with d5 (one of white’s trump moves in the Dutch) it can come into b4 with tempo. After which he can play e5 with equality.

Pos25

Black is fine and eyeing up the kingside as per usual.

Pos26

Nothing can stop the c-pawn.

Another victory pushes me up the table again. An incident occurs before the game. A Dutchman walks along the tournament hall whilst eating a prawn sandwich with a strange bird-like manner. He leaves a trail of prawns on the carpet and walks off without picking them up. Nobody else does either. Everyone’s just sitting around, waiting for the next game to start.

The heavens open on the way home but people still throw water in the streets. It is the pinnacle of pointlessness. A semblance of normality to return tomorrow?

The sixth day 

I play with the white and come up against the French. My opponent is just under 2000. In the analysis room afterwards, he tells me he’d received some Ginger GM training in his pet line courtesy of skype. I haven’t played against it before and am at a disadvantage. I spend the opening adorning my new tan whilst occasionally looking at the board -not!

The Tarrasch not the most active way to meet the French but I like it.

The Tarrasch is not the most active way to meet the French but I like it.

The 6...a5 line

The 6…a5 line

Pos30

I have developed normally and was waiting for black to castle kingside. A mistake on my part based on the assumption that he would play f6 at some point. I played Bb1 here which is far too optimistic.

Pos31

The center has been closed so that the black king can take shelter there. Black’s pieces are working together, mine aren’t. I am already playing black’s game and not my own.

Pos33

A centralized queen and a flank attack. I am under pressure and play the losing Ne2. After Ra1 and Bg5 white is lost.

I am outplayed -it happens. The FIDE no talking rule is chosen at random and enforced today meaning that no one is allowed to talk to anyone during their game. It’s just another measure to try and stop people cheating but no one pays attention. The new FIDE rules regarding dress are never mentioned, even though dozens of players would fall foul of them.

The seventh day

I play with black against some Austrian with a longer name and bigger body than Schwarzenegger, he’s around the 2000 mark (Elo not Kg’s). I can harness the nervous energy I feel before each game now. I’m fully focused, it’s Good Friday, I unleash a holy terror.

Avoiding the Staunton Gambit

I play the Dutch with 1…e6 to avoid the Staunton Gambit. .

Though a3 isn't a complete waste of a move, it does suggest that white doesn't know how to play against the Dutch defence.

Though 4. a3 isn’t a complete waste of a move, it does suggest that white doesn’t know how to play against the Dutch defence.

I've had this played against me by an IM but I don't understand how white can gain any advantage from an early d5.

I’ve had this played against me by an IM but I don’t understand how white can gain any advantage from 6. d5. It’s far too early in my opinion.

Seemingly pointless play by white.

Seemingly pointless play by white.

Don't ask me what's going on here. Both are shuffling minor pieces around the center to find their best squares but white shouldn't need to do this given that he has more space against the Dutch.

Don’t ask me what’s going on here. Both players are shuffling minor pieces around the center to find their best squares but white shouldn’t need to do this given that he has more space against the Dutch.

When I saw this move played I was initially concerned that I may have missed something but both knights can be kicked.

White has just played 14 Qc2. He wants to play f3 so that he can capture my f-pawn.

15 f3

15 f3?

The problem with this move is that it weakens the kingside. I disregarded Nc5 (which looks okay) in favour of Bh4! White’s position is a mess already, I know I can exploit that with a well-timed sacrifice and begin looking at a sac on g3. I looked 5 moves ahead at the following position.

After 15...Bh4 16 g3 Bxg3 17 hxg3 Nxg3 18 Rg1 Nxe2 19 Qxe2

After 15…Bh4 16 g3 Bxg3 17 hxg3 Nxg3 18 Rg1 Nxe2 19 Qxe2 Bxc4 which is what I was expecting.

Spent about 5 minutes thinking about this position and thought the sacrifice could be justified for the following reasons in order of importance.

1 Black’s minor pieces have strong squares.

2 White is not well coordinated.

3 White cannot castle.

4 Black has already gained 3 pawns for his piece.

5 Black can take control of the center.

6 I cannot think of a coherent plan for white.

However, my opponent deviates with a very dubious move indeed.

This must surely be wrong as f3 is now vulnerable.

After 19 Nfxe2. This must surely be wrong as f3 is now vulnerable.

Pos48

After 19…c5 20 f4

Pos49

20…cxd4 21 fxe5

Pos50

21. Black plays exd4.

Pos52

White has just played Qd3 and is completely lost. The quickest win is the move I played 23 …Rae8, the idea is to push the f-pawn immediately with f4 (if Bxf4?? Bg6!). White must play his king to f2. Instead my opponent played 24 b3? I won soon after.

I get a respectful handshake from my opponent. My chess is back to normal as is the city -hurrah! With the subway as packed as ever, I stand all the way home contented!

The final day 

I play some 13-year old Indian boy rated 1996 who demolished an IM, drew with an FM, then comfortably beat another player over 2300 in his first three games but that was at the beginning of the tournament and now we are at the end. His more recent results suggest that he is another who has lost their way during the tournament and now he is playing someone who has found his. It is that which is most important. I woke at 4.30 am for some reason and could not get back to sleep. I have the black pieces again. I see a GM picking his nose by the Concierge. Such shameful behaviour makes me wonder if he is behind the park shooting….I’ll consult an arbiter.

Now I get to play the Tarrasch.

Now I get to play against the Tarrasch.

It's an early morning game but I did notice that white has forgotten to play e5

It’s an early morning game but I did notice that white has forgotten to play e5.

Pos57

After a pawn exchange on e4 black has just played Bb4, forcing the knight to go back to c3 and move a third time. What on earth is my opponent doing?

Pos58

White has lost the initiative already.

Pos59

After 8…Nc6. I wasn’t sure if that was the best square for the knight and am still not.

Pos60

White has just played 12 Qe2. Black must be very careful. I played …Bb7 as I don’t want to leave the knight hanging and I couldn’t see a way forward for white just yet.

Pos61

White is pushing hard for a quick victory. I saw this position a few moves back and thought black was fine but I missed one move which is obvious now.

Pos62

After 15…g6, white plays 18 Nxe6! I had forgotten that when the bishop goes to b7, the e6 square is weaker.

Pos63

16…Nxd4, probably the only move.

Pos64

White is better, courtesy of the bishop pair and plays 18 Be4. Black must play actively or he will soon lose. Black plays 18…Qd4.

Pos65

White has just played 19 Be3 and has used up a lot of time in trying to find a win. He now tries too hard and runs into trouble

Pos66

White has allowed black to bring his knight into play and must exchange it immediately.

Pos67

White plays 22 Bd5??

Pos68

25…Rd7 and the queen is lost. McCready wins once more now sure that everyone under 2000 is crap.

I finish with four out of nine and forty-five places above where my rating suggests I should be. Most of my opponents were over two hundred Elo points above me though only two out-played me. A shame it ends just as I pick up form…for once I go home sad! But before that, my daughter returns to the tournament hall to cause mischief once more. This time she climbs up on the stage just before the winners and steals the S.Korean flag off it.

There is traditional Thai dancing for those who stayed on…and then the tournament ends. Everyone leaves, no one really knows anyone so nothing other than a few polite goodbyes are said, until next year… .

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Grace plays chess. She banged her head twice on the tables and proceeded to eat the ice-cubes applied to it.

thresher shark

A thresher shark, which proceeded to eat Matt Hooper’s boat in Jaws

Matt Hooper.

Matt Hooper.

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Prawn sandwiches.

poy-sian-inhaler

Ya dom. The Thais like to use these. Sometimes they leave them in their nostrils but most just sniff them occasionally. I saw at least two players using them at the board. Thai gamesmanship or nothing more than a minor distraction?

The aptly named 'Sir not appearing in this blog'.

The aptly named ‘Sir not appearing in this blog’.

Scotland's greatest ever musician and songwriter. Not to be listened to on a chess day.

Scotland’s greatest ever songwriter. Not to be listened to on a chess day.

R.I.P Layne Staley

R.I.P Layne Staley

The expressway. An oriental paradise of sorts.

The expressway. An oriental paradise of sorts.

How to play?

How to play?

Songkran-bkk

Songkran. A festival that has long since lost its meaning and respect from the author.

Frank Sinatra -doing it 'My Way'

Frank Sinatra -doing it ‘My Way’

Oops...that's Frank.

Oops…that’s Frank.

The model I had when I lived in Chiang Mai -it needed a lot of maintenance.

The model I had when I lived in Chiang Mai -it needed much maintenance.

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Holy Terror -not everyone’s cup of tea.

The 'Kim'. The author sat by flowers and fountain whilst listening to this beautiful instrument before the start of play  more than once in the tournament.

The ‘Kim’. The author sometimes sat among fountains and flowers whilst listening to this beautiful instrument before the start of play.

The Dusit Thani. 5-star but showing its age slightly.

The Dusit Thani. 5-star but showing its age slightly.

The Azerbaijan army...oh no wait, that's Faith No More!

The Thai army…oh no wait, that’s Faith No More!

Fransisco Vallejo Pons, a prodigy and a gentleman.

Fransisco Vallejo Pons, a prodigy and a gentleman.

On the way home at the end of Day 4. In spite of the downpour, there were still people playing with water on my street.

On the way home at the end of Day 4. In spite of the downpour, there were still people playing with water on my street.

During Songhran Bangkok is like a ghost town.

During Songkran Bangkok is like a ghost town.

Thai anti-government protesters or 'yellow shirts' as they are also called.

Thai anti-government protesters or ‘yellow shirts’ as they are also called.

Have you ever been caught in a mosh?

Have you ever been caught in a mosh?

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Not my favourite track!

One of my opponents?

One of my opponents?

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Better tracks

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‘Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real. Love, and so art and morals, is the discovery of reality.’ Iris Murdoch – The Sublime and The Good

No sooner had I come in from the cold in some ex-soviet backwater, than I got roped into a quickplay tournament by the sweaty ChaoPraya river, Bangkok in some chess-themed bar entitled ‘The Checkmate Bar and Bistro’. A recent change in the law in Thailand states that whilst ensconced in the country, foreigners must now spend their entire savings on alcohol as opposed to a mere 95%, as per usual. Unfortunately for we chess players, the only appropriately themed bar in the country just had to be devoid of atmosphere and for those who want to be part of the ‘in crowd’ only. Thankfully, the ‘in crowd’ lurk during the evenings when the whole area comes to life (more on that to come). During the day it is dead. That few dozen melancholy woodpushers of which I was one, were left to wander around in the sweltering sun, far away from that filth that is the non-chess-playing pubic.

Not a number, not a free man… .

Since I play so infrequently, I thought that the tournament might help show where I’m at with my chess, given that I will participate in a major tournament next month….if my FIDE ID can be reactivated in time that is. Until I become a number again, I am not free to play in any official FIDE tournament. In an act of embittered patriotism, I was denumbered after being away from England’s green and pleasant lands for too long by the ECF.

I went window shopping today, I bought four windows! – Tommy Cooper

I’d never been to Asiatique, where the Checkmate Bar & Bistro is itself; Asiatique is a night bazaar, at best a pastiche of Asian culture for tourists, local teenagers, the occasional entrepreneur, and just about anyone out of the six million or so nearby; at worst, it’s a packed, over-priced, pretentious free for all lacking in any real character. In Asia most nationalities are either indifferent to, ignorant of, or utterly contemptuous towards one another, and when ethnic minorities or indigenous peoples’ become involved, attitudes become even more ungracious, generally speaking of course! Thankfully, whilst eating each others’ food and drinking their beer, all is forgotten. Even the Chinese can get stuck into some Sukiyaki whilst guzzling Asahi without fear of indigestion should the horrors of the Nanjing Massacre ever repeat on them during their meals -hence the commercial, not cultural, success of Asiatique. I thought that once the sun went down over the river; the Ferris wheel standing over it, the free boat rides along it, the endless lanes of stalls and entertainers leading to it, the crowds of shoppers wandering along it, and the light shows that shone onto it would be nice for the little one to see -and I was indeed correct.

I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection -Freud. Society and its Discontents

Even though parenthood and playing chess do not compliment one another well in such close proximity, I could not leave Grace for the weekend for chess. My daughter owes her very existence to chess, as it was at a tournament where I first met her mother. Even her name carries a slight sense of her father’s optimism, as her initials are GM (I requested that no middle name be given so she could be forever entitled). It always seems right, rudimentary even, to bring her along to tournaments, though never quite logical: if, however, logic is concerned solely with the present that is. As any sensible parent can tell you, in having children you are, quintessentially, committed to their future and its unfolding. And planning in the context of parenthood requires much more diligence and care than in chess for if you get it wrong over the board you only lose your position/game, but as a father the consequences of a poorly formed plan can be far more reaching. Circumspection is tuned more finely by parenting than chess…and so a day’s chess became the backdrop for a family outing with the calm vital between rounds impinged upon heavily by parental duties and the calm during play disrupted frequently by the need to check that all is fine with the little one.

Tragedy strikes after a solid start

Something so very, very odd happened on the way home. I fell asleep in the taxi, only awaking when we finally arrived home. I do not remember the last time that happened, it was many years ago for sure. Then, when I managed to climb the stairs, I fell asleep again for hours more even though the tv was blaring out, the lights were on full, my wife was chatting to her mum, Grace kept climbing all over me because she wanted to play, but the sleep I fell into was so deep that I could neither move nor respond. Grace even gave me a little kiss at one point when she saw I wasn’t moving but I could do nothing. When I finally awoke, I couldn’t walk properly. Somehow I had slipped into a state of chronic fatigue. Eventually I woke at 3 pm the next day. I had missed the entire second day. Unbelievable!

Nothing more than a mere caricature in a strange land?

Whilst stuck in snowy Azerbaijan, somehow I just ate, and drank, and ate, and ate, and ate and lost my appetite for chess altogether. Worse, I stopped exercising too, became untalkative and rather unhappy, suddenly 15 kgs heavier. I suspect I was still paying the price for such indulgence as on the eve of the tournament, I had to check if I was doing the right thing…what a pity that the timing was so awful. Only those who enjoy keeping fit and exercising regularly can truly understand this paragraph I think.

The saddest of all expressions… .

What is the worst expression a chess player could ever hear? It must surely be the words ‘I hate chess’. But what could cause someone to say such a thing with such venom directly to me? Only those who are forced to play chess against their wishes. I wasn’t the opponent but I did see the game unfold until both became too fed up to continue. I found it saddening to see children being forced into playing chess, they ought to choose what they do with their free time. Though my child will grow up around chess I would never force her to play or do anything she didn’t want to for that matter. Hopefully she will take an interest in it herself (Grace if you are reading this as an adult please take note) but if she doesn’t that’s fine too.

Cruel words sleep above me, mounting and teasing… .

After almost four decades of playing chess I fell asleep during a quickplay game for the first time ever…ah the joys of occasional chess!

Ye Olde daughter at the grand old age of 11 days

Ye Olde daughter at the grand old age of 11 days

Even our resident Grandmaster couldn't draw inspiration from the surroundings.

Even our resident Grandmaster couldn’t draw inspiration from the surroundings.

The irrepressible Tommy, once disrupted some chess action in Luton in the early nineties, owing to his wonderful humour.

The irrepressible Tommy, once disrupted some chess action in Luton in the early nineties, owing to his wonderful humour

The greatest vocalist and front man since the alleged bang bang...his skin isn't a layer of soot.

The greatest vocalist and front man since the alleged big bang occurred a few years back….or whenever it was…his skin isn’t a layer of soot, I doubt whether cruel words mount above him. A man even more obscure than myself.

Once upon a time... I mean when I did my MA I took a trip to north Wales to do a photo shoot here. I was a number back then to, and (drum roll please) a free man...any thoughts on the font used in the image, its history and the instrument that fashioned it?

Once upon a time… I mean when I did my MA I took a trip to north Wales to do a photo shoot here. I was a number back then too, and (drum roll please) a free man…any thoughts on the font used in the image, its history and the instrument that fashioned it?

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The slow motion replay doesn’t show how fast the ball was actually travelling – Richie Benaud

In England, there’s much pub-talk about where people were when important historical events occured, such as Armstrong landing on the moon or when England won the world cup or when the great fire of London broke out, and so on, and so on. My question is where were you when McShane played 2 Nf3 against Anand’s Caro-Kann at the opening of the 5th London Chess Classic? For me…well I’d rather not say…I was helping a friend fix his washing machine but became trapped inside the bloody thing, anyway… .

At the beginning of December 2013, the London Chess Classic coincided with The Ashes down under (that’s cricket to all you saddo no-lifes out there), fans of both spent an exceptionally long weekend trying to keep up with the action. An almost improbable task given that we only had eight days for the chess and a mere five for the cricket. Like most, I had to take a week off work to recover from the excitement then several more from the tragedy of it all -well almost. Surprisingly, my request for such time off was not given the seriousness I had hoped for.

The crowd roars it’s deep and so unhealthy… .

Their gloomy beginnings left behind long ago, both chess and cricket now offer a resplendent, high-tech horizon where viewers across the globe can follow the action like never before. But looming on this horizon lies a dark foreboding menace beyond anything vocalist Mike Patton ever ingratiated his audiences with.

Purgatory and the gnashing of teeth…is our top GM going to play 1. b3 or 1. b4 today?

In search of greater revenue both chess and cricket have been forced to modernize themselves in favour of faster, sexier formats. In cricket, the patience batsmen need to build an innings has been steadily eroded by the dominance of one-day internationals and twenty-twenty, where the object of the game is to blast every ball into orbit and beyond, meaning that even world class batsmen (most of the English and some of the Aussie top order) now constantly get out to risky shots that people didn’t play with such regularity ten-twenty years ago, as we saw all too often in the third test. In chess, we now get quick-play tournaments where top Grand masters allow themselves to be checkmated having barely got out of the opening, and where ex-world champions lose in a manner which even beginners would be embarrassed by, as we saw in the London Chess Classic.

Do you feel sometimes that age is against you?

I didn’t follow-up on Kramnik’s defense of his knock-out loss, I assumed there isn’t one. Instead we can only reflect upon the pressure inflicted by such insidious time-controls, and ask ourselves if something is wrong when watching great players blunder game after game becomes synonymous with entertainment for the masses? Mistakes are part of the game at all levels but when the format of the game invites them with such certainty, something much more precious is lost.

The null of losing, can you afford that luxury?

Viewing on line for free I don’t want to sound harsh, especially when those involved did their best, but I for one would be more than willing to pay for a VPN and a choice of game with full commentary instead of what we were given…it was a shame to see the commentary team struggle with the revamped format of the fifth London Chess Classic but was it inevitable? Commentating on one quick-play game between two players, both of whom are several hundred rating points above you is hard enough, but four simultaneously is sheer folly.

The world expects a pose…perfectly natural?

Personally, I don’t like to see GMs making a mess of things. We ought to watch top-flight chess to see how things are done properly and not how they aren’t done properly. If I wanted to watch that, I could just go along to the nearest club and watch some games there.

It’s the thing you hate the most…the thing you hate almost.

Why did the London classic change its format? There are reasons, the main one being the proximity of the Vishy-Magnus match and the participants unwillingness to play classical chess so close to it. From what I understand, a change in format was the only way the tournament could be the first to parade the winner of the match. Sadly, this was not enough to persuade Magnus to join, so there was no world champion present.

“A very small crowd here today. I can count the people on one hand. Can’t be more than 30” – Michael Abrahamson

Was the revamped 5th London Chess classic a success? I have no idea. Given the caliber of the competitors, the play was poor I thought, the commentary even worse and when Vlad played that ridiculous move against Boris in the semis it was the final straw, at which point I turned all my attention to the cricket instead…unfortunately England were in pretty bad shape by then too.

Does life seem worthwhile to you? 

The weekend was over. It was not yet winter but bitterly cold and barely light as I walked across Baku to work, my hands numbed by the morning sleet that fell upon its backstreets leading into the city. With many kilometres ahead I walked slowly, not yet awake but pensive. By then England were close to losing The Ashes and Nakamura had won in London, I was dressed in black accordingly. Just before I reached the government buildings ungainly edged onto the city centre, shivering, I thought to myself ‘sometimes life is just shit‘… .

It was not yet 8.30 when I arrived at work. The office empty, I reclined in my chair. The heating was on high, I drank some hot chocolate undisturbed. Asleep again as my colleagues arrived, I awoke covered in snot, dreamt I’d swallowed my teeth and tried to cough them up…such lyrics and more came from my MP3 player, which I had forgotten to switch off.

Except for boiled potatoes and broccoli, only death is real.

It was a forgettable morning with little to do in the office. The final session in the cricket I dursn’t follow, the chess I just forgot about. The sleet had stopped but a low cloud stayed til lunch, when I ate the portion of boiled potatoes and broccoli given to me. I drifted into thoughts about England as I cut my food with my fork; the cricket, the chess, the inclement weather all reminding me of London strangely. But then my supervisor interrupted, standing at silly point he asked me to complete a report after I had finished. I took an afternoon nap first.

Someone taps me on the shoulder every five minutes, nobody speaks English anymore.

Nap over, bell stopped ringing, corridors all empty now. No one stood at urinals pissing nor in front of mirrors examining their tongues. Where were the students?

I spoke to no one that afternoon and left the office early to the winter park where the subway system beneath was warm and provided shelter. Nearer home, the backstreets were empty of the city traffic and muddy from the morning sleet still. An elder colleague once swore that in Soviet days Baku was a clean and orderly city but after the war, when the Soviets left, people from the country came into the city in their thousands and turned the place into a complete mess. I didn’t doubt it. I was barely 200 meters from the city centre yet the street I took home, named after the satirist Jalil Mammadguluzade, had an entire row of makeshift housing built on the road itself where it widened – most unwise considering that driving licenses are usually bought rather than gained via the proper channels but not unexpected. On the corner nearest, people stood selling bread every morning, hours before it was light even. A little further up I once saw chickens run freely across the road where washing hung between the trees, blocking off what little pavement there was. Nearby, groups of bored teens sitting by open fires on broken furniture left in the street offered to wash cars for a pittance except today, today of course, it was too cold. I saw only one other on the street, an elderly woman carrying a large jar of pickled watermelon in both hands. She had a row of gold teeth behind the grimace on her face…had she watched the cricket too I asked myself? I walked on as fast as I could, it would not be long before I was home and warm again.

Drought makes the workers dream.

The water was off yet again when I arrived. What was I to do tonight I asked myself? Sit staring at the computer screen again? I wanted to get drunk to forget about Baku, to forget about everything. Chess was a motivating factor in coming to Azerbaijan…curse that bloody board game I told myself. On the few times I found people playing, everyone looked so depressed and miserable I dursn’t say anything to anyone, fearing that their misery may be contagious. The fridge was always stocked with beer because I didn’t want a daily encounter with the peasant in the kiosk closest and his tiresome attempts to shortchange me. I drank Czech beer only, certainly none of that local rubbish. The fridge was the only modern item in my apartment. I trusted it, it was switched on to my needs. The first beer sank as I sat in my bed listening to the radio in the dark. I had no bed in the conventional sense of the word, only a mattress on the floor, an over-sized pillow and an old cardboard box as a head rest. I didn’t mind sleeping like that, somehow it seemed appropriate given the state of the building. It was a Stalinka -that being a generic term for anything built whilst Stalin was in power- and had seen better days. I wondered if I would ever return to Azerbaijan and its grotty little capital Baku -a city stricken by decades of Communism still. It would mean yet more time away from my daughter…her funny little laugh and her little smiles I had missed for too long now. I thought about the day I would see her again and wondered if she would still recognize her father. Every time a beer was empty I looked out of the window by the fridge when I got another. There was nothing to see other than the same parked cars and the same row of street lamps becoming fainter in the gloom. I don’t know why I always did that…but then I was unable to stop myself…perhaps it was disbelief. With each day passing as part of one long count, another empty evening lay ahead, soon it would be tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow… .

All behold the spectacle of fleshy, limbless rectangles… .

England's greatest ever chess player

Michael Adams – England’s greatest ever chess player

faithnomore-1340109125

Faith No More – America’s greatest ever export

Graham Gooch – England’s greatest ever batsman

...and yes that is a Celtic Frost hoodie.

The author in contemplation, wearing that which he walks to work in. On the left cuff of his Celtic Frost hoodie lies the inscription:
‘Only Death Is Real…’.

 

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The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.

T.S.Elliot

After watching the documentary Room 237 recently, I felt compelled to delve further into Kubrik’s The Shining. Admittedly, its a film that I’ve never liked, having always found its intensity discomforting. However, in search of greater understanding, I also found an in-depth interview. It’s a wonderful piece of journalism, with Kubrik offering us great insight into who he is and how he works. To my surprise, chess gets more than a mention towards the end of the interview. Kubrik not only makes an interesting analogy between chess and film-making but also tells us how chess can help curb poorly made decisions away from the board. I’ve cut and paste the relevant sections and linked to the interview as well:

You [referring to Mr.Kubrik] are a chess-player and I wonder if chess-playing and its logic have parallels with what you are saying?

First of all, even the greatest International Grandmasters, however deeply they analyse a position, can seldom see to the end of the game. So their decision about each move is partly based on intuition. I was a pretty good chess-player but, of course, not in that class. Before I had anything better to do (making movies) I played in chess tournaments at the Marshall and Manhattan Chess Clubs in New York, and for money in parks and elsewhere. Among a great many other things that chess teaches you is to control the initial excitement you feel when you see something that looks good. It trains you to think before grabbing, and to think just as objectively when you’re in trouble. When you’re making a film you have to make most of your decisions on the run, and there is a tendency to always shoot from the hip. It takes more discipline than you might imagine to think, even for thirty seconds, in the noisy, confusing, high-pressure atmosphere of a film set. But a few seconds’ thought can often prevent a serious mistake being made about something that looks good at first glance. With respect to films, chess is more useful [in] preventing you from making mistakes than giving you ideas. Ideas come spontaneously and the discipline required to evaluate and put them to use tends to be the real work.

Did you play chess on the set of The Shining as you did on Dr. Strangelove (with George C. Scott) and on 2001?

I played a few games with Tony Burton, one of the actors in the film. He’s a very good chess-player. It was very near the end of the picture and things had gotten to a fairly simple stage. I played quite a lot with George C. Scott during the making of Dr. Strangelove. George is a good player, too, but if I recall correctly he didn’t win many games from me. This gave me a certain edge with him on everything else. If you fancy yourself as a good chess-player, you have an inordinate respect for people who can beat you.

http://www.visual-memory.co.uk/amk/doc/interview.ts.html

Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.

T.S.Elliot

MJM

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What better way to start the new year with some mind-bending questions about chess could there be? That’s right, none whatsoever. I’ve drawn material from Mr.Winter’s Chess Facts and Fables (2006) and added some broader general knowledge questions to balance things out a little. Solutions can be found below. Enjoy:

1) The New York Leger paid which player a sum of $3000 (approx.$60,000 in today’s world) to write a weekly chess column for a period of one year starting in May 1859?

2) Which country did Capablanca once claim to be ‘most suitable’ for producing chess players, courtesy of its ‘raw climate’?

3) Prior to F.I.D.E’s decision to hold a tournament to decide the vacant world championship in 1948, a match between which two players was suggested by Eugene Znosko-Borovsky as an alternative solution following the death of Alekhine?

4) What is the shortest decisive game in a world championship match?

5) Against which former embattled F.I.D.E president did Mikail Tal play his first game as world champion at the Leipzig Olympiad 1960?

6) What infamous event concerning the chess player F.Womersley occurred in Hastings on September 13th 1911?

7) Which ex-world champion was accused of being a collaborator with the nazis by much of the chess world?

8) Which player has beaten 7 world champions, (including two with the opening move f4?)

9) As of 2013, Russia has more registered Grandmasters than any other country, but which country is second according to F.I.D.E?

10 Who is the only Englishman to compete in a F.I.D.E world championship final?

Answers, (page numbers refer to Chess Facts and Fables)

1 Paul Morphy, (pg 69)

2 England, (pg 90)

3 Euwe and Botvinnik, (pg 93)

4 Anand-Gelfand (http://www.chessgames.com/perl/chessgame?gid=1666558)

5 Campomanes

6 He was shot dead. (pg 163)

7 Alekhine

8 Bent Larsen

9 Germany

10 Michael Adams

Your score:

7-10. You clearly have a fantastic knowledge of chess. If knowledge and ability were one and the same, you’d be a 2600 player for sure.

3-6. You can talk a good game no doubt and can contribute to any pub conversation. Everyone will think you are a tidy little FM.

0-3. Time for you to buy Chess Facts and Fables.

MJM

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A player can sometimes afford the luxury of an inaccurate move, or even a definite error, in the opening or middlegame without necessarily obtaining a lost position. In the endgame … an error can be decisive, and we are rarely presented with a second chance.  – Paul Keres

An eight-month period away from the board is about to come to an end, here’s a few reoccurring thoughts whilst out of action:

1. The endgame offers the club player much profit.

The endgame is a place where wow factor and whizzbangers are scarce but winning chances are aplenty: if a titled player can go wrong on a regular basis in the final phase of the game, why won’t your untitled opponent against you? In truth he/she will probably offer you a smorgasboard of opportunity without even realizing it. All you need to do is capitalize. And to capitalize, all you need to do is merely dedicate yourself, and in doing so, an emerging love of the endgame will help reacquaint you with an old flame you may have forgotten about -good, old-fashioned elbow grease….or not, as the case may be.

But seriously, considering that chess is a balanced and solid game, you may not get winning chances against your closely matched opponent until the endgame. The endgame may be your best, or even only hope, of snatching victory: if like myself, you are a club-player, your opponent won’t have the knowledge to play the entire endgame accurately. It’s not like in the opening, where you can copy moves out of a book blindly, concrete knowledge of the endgame is much harder to come by. Go to move 23 of the following game http://www.chessgames.com/perl/chessgame?gid=1111742 . It looks drawish yet Larsen didn’t think so and he didn’t even need his opponent to make a mistake.

Lastly, I’m inclined to believe that the endgame is the area of chess where the literature has improved the most with some great writers, such as Dr. John Nunn, Muller and Mark Dvoretsky, raising the standard. Not just by offering improved analysis but by questioning the often elaborate publications of previous generations. I was one of the many who owned series such as Averbahk’s yet found the scope of material and attention to detail to be so great that far too much information was left ignored. In general, terms a shift away from covering every single aspect of the endgame towards the general and more practical has helped no end.

2. A more cautious approach towards chess literature has emerged.

Without parodying some authors I have recently encountered, I’ve had to distance myself from a great many books on chess theory, especially those with cheap, gimmicky titles such as ‘Secrets of crap chess books’ by GM Der Brain. In general I find them to be sloppy on too many levels. There is often a lack of distinction in such literature between ability and knowledge, and a prevailing assumption that one necessarily follows from the other. This is naive to say the least and rather damaging considering that chess is often defined as an intellectual pursuit. Some publishers are guiltier than others, I have been appalled by some Everyman Publications I’ve come across in the last few months but have gained respect for Gambit as well as Hardinge Simpole. Coming from an academic background, I find it hard to accept literature which has a bibliography you could write on the back of a stamp, if that, does not cite or reference correctly, if at all, and is saturated by lazy generalizations, incoherent analysis and poorly thought-out remarks. Many titled players are quite frankly, charlatans: great chess players they may be, but great writers, communicators, researchers, or even instructors, they are not. I don’t want to be overly critical, there are some great books out there but they are few and far between. Furthermore, it is too easy and unfair to attribute blame solely on certain individuals: the primary purpose of producing a book on chess is profit, publishers are partly responsible for publishing material which is inferior and in need of substantial revision, but ultimately, if anyone is to blame it is the chess-playing public for buying such literature in the first place. It would be nice to think that given some on-line content is not only free but qualitatively superior in many cases, that this would help push literature upwards…but perhaps it is me who is being naive here.

3. Chess is furnished with a lavish history.

To really understand who a player really is or was, it is necessary to leave chess theory and enter into biography and chess history. Games and analysis alone are too easily subject to misinterpretation and are often used to support pre-existing views of the player in hand. You might get a game showing the brilliance of Capablanca in the endgame and how effortless his play is but using games purely to support your own ideas doesn’t teach anything significant. If anything it only shows how unimaginative the writer is. Moreover, chess players often have interesting lives and careers. Quite often it isn’t possible to understand a player’s game or tournament when it has been taken out of context. An obvious example of that concerns Spassky’s demise in his match with Fischer. Clearly the circus going on around him had a massive effect on his play and generated an unparalleled drop in results in a world championship match. It is sad that more effort isn’t invested in the background surrounding play as it often provides important clues on how to read a game. There are many semi-retired players & historians that write well about the history of chess, this I have learnt. I look forward to reading the 15 books I have ordered on-line as they offer a feint pulse of professional writing in chess.

4. The predilections of the Arabs are not conducive towards proper chess play.

Earlier this year, whilst in Al Ain and then Abu Dhabi UAE, I was disposed to play some chess. I noticed that the heads of the kings had all been cut off on every single chess set in both clubs, presumably for appearing ‘Christian’. In Al Ain, the kings’ heads had been replaced by a star and a crescent moon, which I found to be rather distasteful. Given the number of arguments going on and total lack of respect for tournament regulations, I have concluded that chess is not played in the proper manner by the Arabs.

Dubai is frequented by the current FIDE president. In truth the club itself is enormous in its global stature as a number of regional officials have positions at the club. But what, if anything, do the Arabs have other than money? The FIDE president has been friends with a number of rulers in the area, Gaddafi and Saddam Hussein spring to mind initially, though I am sure there are others. Much of the chess world has failed to understand these friendships but when you consider the perennial lack of funding in chess, befriending those ruling opulent nations isn’t such a strange maneouvre. Political instability and human rights issues are part and parcel of every oil-rich nation, it is only a matter of time before FIDE courts controversy once more if it continues to operate from the region with such surety and regularity. A sad reflection on a global level but understandable, since greater financial stability in chess ranks more highly than the occasional question mark concerning personal loyalties. Regionally, this is all wonderful news for the aspirational youngsters who have already fallen in love with chess.

5. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I do not return to chess feeling rusty or out of sorts, I return with more confidence than before. A deeper appreciation of the subtleties of the game has emerged through a slower and more careful study of the game itself. Facing a wealth of on line resources, I have invested enormous effort into establishing my own personal library. Approximately half of the publications I found on-line, the other half I purchased. Experience is the best teacher in chess but given the theoretical nature of the game itself, study plays an essential supporting role. Study, though, is never solely about studying what has been played, it is also involves comprehension of what has been played, analysis itself in chess is tethered to self-examination…I do hope that ‘Chess For Tigers’, my once-upon-a-time favourite book, reconfirms this when it arrives through the post. With this in mind, I will end with the following quotation:

 “If approached with an open heart, chess can become a fascinating channel of self-expression and self-discovery.” -Josh Waitzkin

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