Book Review 10 (King’s Gambit by Paul Hoffman)

Before I begin, its worth reiterating -if only to myself- why I write these reviews. It is primarily for self-serving reasons -mentioned in the Read me First- as I am adrift from academia at present and have no other medium of self-expression. As mentioned in previous posts, I purchased many publications on-line last year with mixed results. As a result, a healthy mistrust of purchasing chess literature on line has emerged.

A corollary of that is a critique that many on-line reviews aren’t really reviews at all, they are often mere write ups. The difference being. of course that a review contains critique whereas a write-up is a form of appraisal. It isn’t fair to single out individuals here, instead its best to remember that the standard of journalism took a nose-dive when the internet came along, and is yet to recover from it. After reading the book I am about to discuss, I went on-line and found several so-called reviews of this text. In truth, I very much doubt whether the journalist in question actually read the book, as what they said was so far removed from my own experiences of the text, and so one-sided, that I have my doubts. I was going to link the reviews write-ups in question but to do so would be to denigrate my own blog…you will see gore and gay porn on here before that filth I can assure you!  T.W.I.C is a useful starting point (you can find the link to their book reviews on my blog) but what is said there must be cross-referenced, and time must be spent doing this if you are to make a purchase which is rationally informed rather than one which is perhaps impulsive and dependent upon the opinion of one.

The text’s finer points…

What of this latest number that just so happened to fall into my lap? Is it about the King’s Gambit? No, well not directly, though that is a favourite of the author. The book is, in fat, an auto-biographical account of the author’s chess life. Given that the author wasn’t a titled player and didn’t have any real success over the board you may wonder what the point of reading it would be, as in fact I did. Well firstly, it doesn’t matter much since anyone who can write well can make anything interesting…more or less. But more importantly, as a journalist the author was in close contact with the people at the very top, and over a number of years too, and it is this which will be of interest to most. Moreover, Mr. Hoffman has the craft to intertwine his own personal experiences of chess with his professional commitments so cleverly throughout that distinguishing the two is quite impossible in places, and admirable throughout. I found it personally pleasing to read someone who can write for once, rather than some wannabe GM. The writing exemplifies ease and control, it is not forced and ingenuous as is often the case in chess. Those new to the game would find the book to be a useful anchor point for the modern game, as unlike many who find their way into print in chess literary circles, Mr.Hoffman is prepared to do things properly, meaning that whenever an important claim is made, it is sourced or referenced. Wasn’t that nice of him? Having dropped out of chess for ages also, I found this publication to be useful in filling in certain gaps whilst I, too, was away from the board. The chapters covering the debacle in Libya fitted that bill especially. It was refreshing to read some primary source material and gain an insider’s view of what happened over there.

Some food for thought.

I struggled to finish this publication, realizing early on that it was neither written for the likes of me nor was I going to take much from the content (as mentioned, it was only the material on the world championship match held in Libya towards the end that salvaged the publication). It is written primarily, I think, for those with a casual interest in chess or little knowledge of the game. Personally, and as is echoed by Kirsin late in the book, I don’t like listening to chess players talk as they often have nothing interesting to say. So a book based upon what is largely casual conversations with ‘top’ chess players isn’t going to appeal (the author’s own experience of chess held no interest whatsoever). I did complete the book because I admired the craft with which the author wrote, though I also found it to be superficial throughout and distinctly American in its lack of humour. The book has a wide audience and being a journalist Mr.Hoffman writes for everyone. Given how impenetrable the chess world can be to the general public, this is probably wise. But for that and other aforementioned reasons, I couldn’t really get into this publication. I bought it on a whim on-line, without any real opportunity to peruse the text first. Had I been able to do so, I doubt whether I would have clicked on ‘Proceed to Check Out’. Ultimately your enjoyment of this book will come down to how much you know about the chess world. If you are abreast of current affairs in chess and have a good take on the modern game, then this publication isn’t really for you, and I say this even though the author is prepared to explore less conventional aspects of the chess world and delve into the past occasionally. However, in its own way it is a work of art: it reminded me of when I used to read Dostoevsky, in the sense that the characters were all very similar, it lost its way in the middle for a while, and the ending was a little rushed…I think that’s a compliment…now where’s that button which says ‘Return to Amazon by Lobbing Item at the Back of the courier’s head HARD’ button’? No reference to the author, just amazon making it too easy for consumers as usual.

MJM

The Bangkok Open 2013

‘Man is by his very nature a social animal, whose natural inclination is to live in the company of others.’ – Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics

How it began…

I entered the Bangkok Open with little chess and much ill health for six straight months or more, uncertain if I had done the right thing. How could I enter in a state of such unreadiness I wondered. With just days to go, I told myself, tentatively, that entering constituted in chess terms, a useful ‘multi-purpose move’; I wanted to catch up with friends, all of whom I hadn’t seen since last year if not longer, participating also offered the opportunity to once again take up the role of ‘Official Photographer’ which allowed me to combine my passions, I also remembered that the coastline close to where the tournament was held contoured steeply, meaning I could bring the mountain bike and enjoy early morning rides before play, furthermore my wife and daughter had family obligations at the beginning of the week, handing a rare chance of some time to myself away from the city, and most importantly of all, I wanted to play some competitive chess!  With all this in mind, I awoke at 4.20am on the day of the tournament and set off in total darkness across the north of Bangkok, overloaded with books, clothes and camera equipment. I was still half asleep but awake enough to be anxious of my carriage.  One of my front break pads had suddenly disappeared in the night, and in servicing my bike, I accidentally blew up an inner tube whilst pumping it up too much, leaving me ill-equipped to combat adversity should it occur. Being so early the roads were all empty and unfamiliar. I lost my way along a straight section of road I knew well. The area became desolate close to an unnamed train station, the darkness thickened. I could no longer see the road nor the concrete pillars it bent around, close to the tracks I was about to bounce over, wherever they were. I stopped for a moment then started again, reassured that I still had enough braking capacity, and roughly speaking, I knew where I was.

I arrived at the northern bus terminal as intended, just in time for the 5.30 am bus. It was almost empty, I rebuffed an impromptu surcharge of 100 Baht by the driver for my $400 Trek. We pulled onto the expressway, it was not yet light. I never slept a single minute of the two and a half hour journey, choosing to watch the morning gloom lift over Bangkok instead. As I reclined in my seat, the engine drone could not lull me back to sleep, the ride to the station had my blood pumping still, my back was soaked in sweat. The bus left the city at the light of dawn, I formed a mental checklist of all the things I needed to do. I knew I would be too tired for my afternoon game. My opponent would be from the upper half of the draw, thus 2200+….it was going to be a tough first day indeed.

Observations from the playing hall

At present the future of chess is an Asian affair.

A noticeable feature of the Bangkok Open is how cosmopolitan it is and how frighteningly young some competitors are. There is a disproportionate amount of juniors at every event, our youngest being 5-years old this time. With both China and India going from strength to strength, geographically speaking, the future of chess is surely an Asian affair. I noticed many of the top seeds taking interest in the top juniors, one of which beat a GM in the first round but then he wasn’t far from being one himself.

Must females resort to such dubious tactics?

There’s something very strange about women. Why is it they think showing flesh during chess play can distract someone sufficiently? It seems to me that the new generation of female players think its cute to express themselves so. I find this perplexing. Most committed chess players pay little attention to what lies beyond the board, how can cleavage interfere with someone’s Caro-Kann?. During a game of competitive chess all that lies beyond the board is largely irrelevant, surely they know that? This sort of gameswomanship does nothing other than reinforce the stereotype that women have smaller brains and can think of nothing other than sex.. or is it men that do that?

The burp that never was.

The deaf player at Bangkok Chess Club has wound up just about everyone at some point or another. When I saw him arrive late in the tournament I wondered what carry on would occur this time. In a tournament last year he made me  laugh by letting out an enormous burp whilst watching a game in progress. One of the staff walked past him as it happened and could not control his laughter, given that the culprit was entirely oblivious -or so it seemed- I did hope we would be treated to another burp -alas I was left disappointed!

Drinking water has its dangers.

Did you know that the most flirtatious of all conversation in chess occur around the water cooler. Questions such as, ‘Does your queen’s bishop go there often?’ or ‘What’s a nice rook’s pawn like yours doing on a g-file like that? and my old personal favourite ’Are drinking fountains shorter than they used to be?’ are frequently whispered in earnest.

I ran into trouble for drinking too much water during play on more than one occasion. Given that the venue was a five-star hotel, and that we were afforded a large ballroom, the toilet facilities were less than impressive. The was really only one adjoining. Since most of the 314 competitors were men, this meant that an unholy stench engulfed unsuspecting players answering the call of nature. The thing is that in such establishments you expect a higher class of turd or perhaps air-freshener, and not some malevolent stink that lingers all afternoon and alters levels of consciousness at the board. I’m sure there must have been cases of double vision and blunders as a result. This sort of thing is most unimpressive.

What does it mean. exactly, to be rusty?

I was so out of practice at this tournament that I had to talk to many friends at length to work out exactly what was going wrong and why. During such difficult conversations it occurred to me that in not doing something, you have no apparatus to measure how far you’ve fallen and can only gain a sense of what has already been lost. But that of course is of no help during tournament play. Poor technique and a loss of intuition are what I identified as the main problems, causing conditions where blunders are in the air. It took me 6 games to find my feet, and by then I was, frustratingly, in among the also-rans.

The role of psychology can never be under-estimated in chess

Following on from discussions with friends, I noticed I had lapsed into a bad habit, that of determining moves and positions as part of a game result. I kept telling myself that I had played a winning or losing move or that I had a won or lost position. Under such hypnosis, I couldn’t see other moves for what they were, if they did not fit into my predicted result. This backfired when, in a position where I was +2 and in control of the center, I switched off and fell for a cheapo. A friend suggested that the only correct description of a position is ‘it’s complicated’. The result should be furthest from your mind at all times as it simplifies your decision-making process and can cause you to become lazy.

Another stumbling block I encountered was paying too much attention to my opponent’s rating. A rating doesn’t mean as much as people think it does. Suppose your opponent is 2100. What does this mean if you are 1900, that he is better than you? Not necessarily, and more importantly, even if he is, will he be better than you on the day? Again, your opponent’s rating cannot give you the answer as there are too many factors to consider; their standing in the tournament, their most recent game, their knowledge of what you are about to play, their previous rating, did they sleep well last night, all crucial factors that a number cannot represent. I made the mistake of giving one opponent too much respect and another not enough, when I knew I should be using my opponents moves as an indicator of their strength, and not some number which will change every 3 months.

From this I have learnt that you must play the board and not the man.

Blitz can passify as well as excite.

During the main event I became frustrated with my play and entered the blitz tournament to help myself loosen up. I played hyper-aggressive chess and stuck it to everyone, putting a GM seriously on the back-foot, sacing a knight and bishop against someone in the upper 2200′s, leaving myself with a simple mate in two but sadly less than a second to make it, and having numerous mating threats against a strong FM, who conceded his position was lost, after my flag fell first that is. How could I outplay people high above me in almost every game yet when it came to the main event, I was so far behind them? There is no answer to this question because blitz is blitz and anything can happen, but it did at least show me that the ability is still there, I just needed to rediscover it, hopefully BEFORE the tournament ended.

Why did the Bangkok Open trump the Dubai Open?

Held simultaneously, and with five times the prize money, you would think there would be more entrants at the Dubai Open. In fact we had over 100 competitors more than the desert brotherhood with 24 GM’s and over 80 titled players coming from over 40 nations. Why such success? There are many reasons but the main two are, I think: the tournament is very well organized, the location makes for a promising holiday as well.

We Brits do love our beer.

Was it me or did I distinctly notice the British players looking bleary-eyed throughout the week? And yes that’s including the very top players. Aha, perhaps that’s because we…oops they were out on the piss more than once? English chess is often described as cavalier, as many openings cultivated by Brits, especially the Grand Prix Attack, are lacking in subtlety. We are…oops, they are of course, also unabashed over locating drinking establishments…perhaps there is too much beer in English chess. Moving on, you should make some effort to sample the local culture, be it opera, art galleries…or getting hammered, pissing in the sea and throwing chips at each other…not that I’d ever do such things of course. Getting drunk is probably the biggest no-no you can get during a tournament, but when you are by the seaside some fun should be had. You shouldn’t just stay in the hotel, like some boring gits people do, not when you’ve spent thousands getting there. The only difficulties are that late night drinking can knock early morning exercise routines out, and going up a gear during play can be difficult if you had too much the night before.

Is it ok to be a GM?

I have to admit, I am lost for words with some GMs. Chess is a game of contemplation but you wonder whether those who are greatest at it lead a life of contemplation too. I am generalizing of course but my point is that in spite of all the perks, some are visibly discontent. I wouldn’t mind being able to fly around the world, accepting sizable appearance fees, staying in five star hotels for free, getting a bit of extra pocket money, and generally, being treated like royalty whilst playing chess all the time. But for some it appears this isn’t enough. Is it the introverted nature of chess or its ultra-competitiveness that causes some to walk around as if the world is about to fall apart? Or is it just them being them perhaps? In the past it had struck me that it is a difficult to be content in professional chess. The money isn’t really there to offer security, the existence is nomadic for many, and we haven’t even spoken about the governing body yet. The friendships I see amongst the elite are often of pure utility, and though I respect those who can become so great at our beautiful game, I do pity some of the lonelier characters too. Would I like to be a GM? As much as I appreciate excellence, I know it comes at great cost, especially in chess. Truthfully, the answer is no. If you are asking the hypothetical question do I want to be better than what I am, then my answer is of course yes but if it involves committing my life to obtaining a title which carries no weight outside of its field, then the answer must be no. The title Dr. is the only one I personally seek because it provides career options. Chess is just a hobby and best kept as one.

Breakfast is a chess player’s most important meal

One of the challenges about playing chess in Pattaya is that research is required prior to arrival as there is more to avoid than enjoy in that town. Appreciating its finer points is no easy task. However, if there is one thing that I do like about the place, it is the Buffet Breakfast culture it has embraced with open arms. I found the very best one in the city at an award winning restaurant named Casa Pascal (http://www.casa-pascal.com/), and noticed that breakfast is essential when playing in the afternoon because the digestive system affects the way you play. If you are still too full, your play is likely to be slow, perhaps even sluggish. If you are hungry your play can show signs of agitation. But if you have put 4 hours between breakfast and your game, then your play should be fine. Lunch, of course, must be avoided at all costs. There are many studies to show that a heavy lunch can take over a thousand rating points of a performance. I’m sure you’re aware of the game between two 2700 players who both had a heavy lunch prior to play, and both missed mate in one for nearly 25 consecutive moves…only kidding.

What is the correct temperature to play chess at?

I confess I don’t know the answer to this question but there was much debate throughout the tournament with players complaining every round that it was too hot or too cold. I believe we settled for 23C in the end but it is difficult because the minute a room fills with people it will hot up, especially if someone has played the Benko gambit. In the final round boards one and two agreed a draw on moves 3 and 4 respectively, which everyone thought was due to the players wanting to secure a share of first and second place but it wasn’t true. The reason for the Grandmaster draws was in fact that there was such an engrossing debate over the correct room temperature for professional chess going on outside that the top GM’s couldn’t wait to jump in, thus agreeing to a quick draw. Fortunately a riot didn’t break out even though the majority said it was too cold in the playing venue. My own take was that I didn’t care as long as we had the whistling gust of wind that blew through you when you walked through the large ballroom doors. It was remarkably refreshing in contrast to the sticky veranda annexed to the ballroom.

A picture of the author during the tournament

As you can see, I’m so good I don’t need to see the board… .

..and yes that is a celtic frost hoodie.

How it ended…

In my final game I gained a convincing victory to add a glimmer of respectability to my low, overall score. After many goodbyes, I arrived back in the hotel ballroom for the closing ceremony, of which I had more professional obligations. Several hundred photographs later, the top GM’s all conveniently wandered off, instead of attending one last shoot outdoors, allowing me to pedal off towards the bus station, where the entire chess-playing Filipino community of Thailand was waiting to return to BKK. I had a more honest bus driver upon return to the ‘big smoke’.  The journey was an instantly forgettable one. I spent most of it reflecting upon how the week had gone. My rationale for entering was, it seems, based upon sound principles, it had been a great week with much food for thought and reflection. I was particularly proud of how I played on the final day, with it being my birthday among other things.

It was almost midnight by the time I had arrived home. My daughter was fast asleep by then, daddy was soon to follow. A useful multi-purpose move had indeed been played, now it was time for bed.

 [C]ontemplation is both the highest form of activity (since the intellect is the highest thing in us, and the objects that it apprehends are the highest things that can be known), and also it is the most continuous, because we are more capable of continuous contemplation than we are of any practical activity. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics

Mark.J.McCready

Book Review 9 (Nottingham 1936 by Alexander Alekhine)

‘Alekhine is a player I’ve never really understood. He always wanted a superior centre; he manoeuvred his pieces toward the kingside, and around the 25th move, began to mate his opponent. He disliked exchanges, preferring to play with many pieces on the board. His play was fantastically complicated, more so than any player before or since.’  -  Bobby Fischer

Being mildly impressed by this year’s Alekhine Memorial, I carefully placed Nottingham 1936 next to a puncture repair kit and some light clothing, along with a magnetic set and my ticket for the overnight train from Bangkok to Vientiane -my reason for departure being a 200km cycling trip. Though still a communist state, Laos has adopted an economic free zone in the capital, meaning that it has blossomed in recent years. The Riverside area, a tightly-packed grid of upmarket bars and  restaurants which the Mekong bends around before meandering through the central plains, offers much more than budget accommodation these days, so that admiring Alekhine’s fine attacking prowess and Capablanca’s sublime endgame technique whilst under the influence of -shall we say- more than one Dark Beer Laos was forthcoming in comfort across several sunny afternoons. There was even time to recline and reflect upon my own efforts in the annual Nottingham tournament many moons ago and plan my journey ahead, which loosely, was to follow the river north to a lake named Ngam Ngum.

Opinions about the great champion by the contestants of the  Alekhine Memorial can be found here ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=D2vDzaVCFvs. The comments are not too illuminating but worth watching nonetheless. I found this game in particular to be outstanding http://www.chessgames.com/perl/chessgame?gid=1715950, and as many commentators said, is something which Mr.Alekhine would himself have been truly proud.

About the publication

It begins with a broad foreword, all of two pages in length, written by the controversial American IM Andrew Soltis. Though it provides some context, pointing out the uniqueness of the tournament, it is littered with all sorts of unfounded claims and allusions, many of which are trivial, some however are far from it: concerning games being thrown in favour of political persuasions, perhaps, thus gifting Botvinnik a share of first prize. What I find particularly grating about this kind of thing, is that it is clearly written for the general public, rather than historians, which means that academic  rigor is not in evidence. Of course context setting can be taken with a pinch of salt but important claims that change the result of the tournament must be sourced or referenced, if you want an active readership that is. If, however, you write in hope that your readers will just go along with whatever you say, then of course you do not.

Leaving the inauspicious start behind, the publication makes for a light, entertaining read. I found the analysis and annotation to be generally balanced and deeply insightful in places. Mr. Alekhine deals only with what he considers essential in each game and does not bother us with endless sidelines. Occasionally, however, his style is dismissive in places, I suppose this is a forgivable, occupational hazard of being the world champion.  Sometimes, though, it would be nice to know why certain lines/openings are bad to him. I should point out that this book would appeal to those who enjoy the classical period most. I personally found there to be more uninteresting games than interesting ones but then I am not a fan of playing through 30 variations of the queen’s pawn opening & queen’s gambit declined, or however many there were. For the modern reader it is interesting to see how badly wrong the top players can go in the opening. Even in the very first game, I found both Alekhine and Flohr’s play to be inexplicable http://www.chessgames.com/perl/chessgame?gid=1008345 for such great players. What was also interesting is how the top British players quickly occupied the bottom places in the tournament, just like in the London Classic these days!

Publications such as these are worth purchasing in the sense that they do qualify as historical documents but they must be handled with a little more care by modern day publishers. It provided me with enough entertainment during the quieter hours on my trip and I will return to it once again with interest in due course, courtesy of Mr.Alekhine’s insightful analysis and his inspiring play.

During a Chess competition a Chessmaster should be a combination of a beast of prey and a monk. – Alekhine

A joke

I’ve decided not to review all the fifty-something publications I acquired last year as I once thought I would, but will instead review those publications that are worthy of attention, and take excerpts from others with notable content. This brings me to what was my companion whilst playing truant at school: The Complete Chess Addict, Mike Fox and Richard James. I adored this publication when I was young and took it everywhere I went. Reading it again, some 25 years on is a different experience of course, and if I were to review the text, I would only end up repeating myself by saying things like the dominant form of history in chess is oration. Paper brings profit, which is why we now have collections of tales in printed form, of which: The Complete Chess Addict is one. If you only want entertainment, you would struggle to beat it, here’s a proof, a chess joke:

Two scientists, one at the north pole, the other at the south pole, were engaged in a game of correspondence chess. Every four months one or the other would receive a move, borne by a sledge drawn by a dog across the ice. The game had been in progress for several years and a critical position had been reached in the early middle-game of a Sicilian Defence Poisoned Pawn Variation. North, playing black, was eagerly awaiting south’s next move. But after four months he had heard nothing. The fifth month elapsed, then the sixth month. Still no sign of a move. The days, weeks and months passed, and the tension was increasing daily. Then, one day, after nine months, he heard the distant sounds of the husky’s paws and the runners of the sledge crunching the ice. Soon it came into view, and eventually reached him. With hands trembling and heart pounding, he reached for the envelope containing South’s next move. The suspense was unbearable. Finally, he managed to open the envelope and read the message inside: J’adoube’

MJM

Book Review 8 (Philosophy Looks at Chess)

Edited by Benjamin Hale, this publication is a collection of unpublished articles which brings together philosophy, understood in its academic context, and chess.

The best way to think of this book  is as an introduction to philosophy for chess players and nothing more. With that in mind, you shouldn’t expect to be too challenged by the content even if you have never read academic philosophy before, as you won’t be burdened by genius or bewitched by brilliance in this publication. Though the book begins with content which, technically speaking, lies within the analytic tradition in philosophy, it does not delve deeply as most articles are written with the reader in mind, meaning that terminology, experiment and argumentation are explained sufficiently. However, if philosophy is new to you, I suggest you invest a little time researching the earlier content -excluding the first article, which is only there to help sell the book- as some of the later content will refer to it in some shape or form. That is important should you wish to read the book in its entirety.

Given that I have spent at least 5 years studying philosophy formally, this book wasn’t written for me. I understand this book as being introductory but the difficulty with simplifying philosophy is that if you go too far, it stops becoming philosophy. In my opinion there are a number of articles within the text that come dangerously close to that threshold, and some which cross it. Many types of error can be found in this publication, some could have been easily avoided had the author referenced his claims instead of relying upon the vernacular to carry him through, in others terms are introduced that the author clearly has little understanding of and can only allude to, many articles annoyingly slip in and out of the first person, making you wonder on what level they are suitable for publication. One article in particular looks like nothing more than a half-decent first draft.

Aristotle once asked ‘What is it about a thing that makes a thing what it is?‘ Concerning this publication, the best answer I can give -if we ignore the spurious claims in the introduction- is, primarily, an intention by the editing author to find a niche in the market, and secondarily, to offer the opportunity for writers people who write to find their way into print, which within academia is usually a necessity.

Even though both chess and philosophy have long literary traditions, there has been little convergence between the two, and in my opinion, what has been published has always failed to make a genuine impact within their own respective fields let alone each others. A disappointing read.

MJM

Fond memories of Bedfordshire chess… .

The Bedfordshire League was where I began playing competitive chess, my first rated game being February 11th 1988 whilst in my last year at school. For those who don’t know, Bedfordshire is the smallest of the home counties in south-east England; it is mostly flat farmland with a few main roads connecting its villages and towns. Conversely, our chess league was also small, rarely going beyond two divisions but bolstered in strength by the addition of Milton Keynes/Open University, Northampton and briefly Rushden, all of whom sought a stronger league to play in than their own. Their addition added greater rivalry within the league without causing any real harm, helping the county teams achieve unprecedented levels of success during the 90′s.

League chess in Beds was always an evening affair, with games starting around 7.30-8pm. Journeys for away games offered short drives, often with little of interest to see and an uninspiring venue at the end. Some clubs were notoriously difficult to find enabling them to pick up points by default occasionally; Cranfield, for example, could only be accessed by narrow country lanes with few signposts, finding it in the dark was very tough indeed; Milton Keynes won the league many times, not because they had the strongest team, but because navigating your way through that city is actually much tougher than chess itself, meaning that most visiting players were usually both late and mentally exhausted upon arrival.

Bedfordshire had a small but strong league, and in many respects, it was no different to many others around the country. I played in nine consecutive seasons, and what little incident there was, is well remembered to this day. I thought I would reflect upon some fonder memories and the distinct lack of impact they had.

1 Sheepdog mauls chess computer

In late November 89, I drove with a friend to March, Norfolk, in search of a Novag chess computer which he wanted to purchase. Not long after, the expensive machine became an object of affection for the family sheepdog Sam, who mauled it one evening. The pieces had all been heavily chewed, some beyond recognition. It was funny to see a chewed chess set with teeth marks and chunks taken out of them. It was as if they had suffered defeat even before the game had begun. The ill-fated machine was then ‘borrowed’ but never returned by another club member some years later.

2 Rogue milk bottle angers A-Team players

A milk bottle escaped from a bag of shopping in the Luton A-team captain’s car once and, unbeknownst to him, hid itself under the driver’s seat. Some weeks later a stench arose. In a match to Milton Keynes, team members complained incessantly and asked for windows to be left open. It was finally discovered after the smell became unbearable.

3 Player gets beaten up in the snow

Ah, the legacy of the seventies, you can’t knock it. We had a player at our club, I won’t say his name because that’s not fair, we’ll use his initials MD instead. I liked him even though many did not. Whilst playing for Vauxhall, when Luton was able to operate its own league, he brought his electric guitar to the chess club to play some heavy metal one winter evening. Unfortunately this didn’t go down too well and a fight soon broke out. My friend Mick informs me that it carried on out into the snow. MD slipped and got punched in the jaw, after some rolling around they both returned to play some chess, without the accompaniment of 70′s heavy metal blasting out.

4  Suicidal Newbie almost causes punch up at AGM 

There was a player who joined the Open University named Gerrard Ashby. He was rated around 200 and a thoroughly unpleasant man. The league AGM was usually held at our club, which was where the then president Ken Liddle played. Ashby came along once in during the meeting called the president a wanker. Ken quickly stood up and asked him to step outside. The offer was declined but it set the tone for the meeting which was full of arguments. I only saw Mr.Ashby once after that, he was sporting a horrendous black eye for yet more foul language. Not long after that he killed himself.

5 Engine blows up after stunning county victory

Bedfordshire first made a name for itself nationally when the second team beat Warwickshire in the Minor Counties Final at Aston University in July 91. I was sub that day and didn’t play, as we strengthened the team with a host of 180s. The journey back was memorable for all the wrong reasons. I traveled up in Olly’s light blue Skoda, back in the day when Skoda’s were cheap and nasty. After the match, we had real difficulty getting out of the car park and then got completely lost in Birmingham. Once on the motorway things went more smoothly until the engine blew up and filled the car with black smoke. The windows were quickly opened as we rolled to stop on the junction just before Milton Keynes. No real damage done except to the engine, which had a big hole in it. We were picked up by the side of the motorway and taken home by the driver’s father.

6 Open-top bus blasts out music during play

Towards the end of the season 93-94 we played Norfolk in the King Edward VIII hall, Newmarket. It was a sunny afternoon late in the season, meaning that all the venue windows were all open on our floor, which overlooked the main road.  Well into our match with Norfolk a carnival suddenly rolled into town. An open-topped bus stopped outside the hall, giving a live radio dj a direct view of our match, which he began reporting on the radio with great amusement. A brass band then began playing, accompanied by a group of female dancers, also looking into our venue with amusement as it vibrated under the deafening noise. This went on for far too long, causing many of the older players to get out of their chair and look on in disgust. I liked the fact that the dj made an impromptu attempt to drown us out with music but when the carnival passed, the show went on to a choral sigh of relief .

7 Raj loses in four moves!

One of our players once started drinking cans of Guinness on the way to a match. He wasn’t bad, about 160, but lost in four moves due to drunkenness at the board. If memory serves me correctly he left a bishop en prise and resigned.

8 Offensive t-shirt results in life-time ban

A totally ridiculous incident occurred one summer afternoon when a new member got himself banned for life over his T-shirt. The manager of the social club we played in objected to the message on the back of the shirt, which was obscene. It was suggested, politely, that he should turn the shirt inside out, as it was a family club and would cause offence. Some people, however, are incapable of accepting criticism. Rather than do as asked, a crazy half hour arose with the new member repeatedly storming in and out of the building, asking why it was a problem and confronting club officials. At one point he stormed up to the club president looking like he was about to hit him and called him a c**t, resulting in a ban from the social club for life. Fortunately, he had arrived early and most members did not witness the incident. The person in question was aptly named Steven King. I will never forget him for the aforementioned incident and the fact that all his post-game analysis involved the word hassle, ‘He was hassling my rook, so I hassled his king’, and so on…he was about as bad as it got over the board.

9 Player thrown through windscreen during chess club car crash

I’ve talked about it before and I didn’t witness it. It happened in the 80′s. Ivan Mitchell’s name for the victim was piss-head Pat, a man I did meet a few times, and who the author can confirm, lived up to his name. Once, after leaving the chess club, the taxi he took crashed, throwing him through the windscreen into a bush. Pat had no recollection of the event, it was the police who informed him the next day. It sounds apocryphal but was confirmed by several other members.

10 Game lost due to call of nature

One of our more recent players (again he shall remain unnamed) had the ability to cause mild controversy every time he came to the club. He is, unfortunately, one of those people who can’t control themselves and speaks too loudly all the time. Much of what he says confuses those who know him, let alone visiting team members. I always remember him repeatedly asking average club players if they could show him how to beat Karpov!! One evening during a blitz tournament he lost a game (not too uncommon) and tried to stop the clock because he needed to go to the toilet. He then tried to cancel the game because he was unable to concentrate due to the call of nature. He was deadly serious about it. An hour must have passed before we heard the end of it. The following week, he was still unable to stop talking about it. When his opponent from the previous week turned up, he demanded justice: a best of three, which then went to a best of five, and then a best of seven. Sadly he wouldn’t listen to the advice of others, that trying to win on time in blitz by playing entirely random moves isn’t an effective strategy.

11 Loudmouth American gets thrashed by junior

There is an American military base in Bedfordshire. Once in a while we would get personnel from it coming to the club. One evening an over-sized soldier came with a smart case containing numerous neatly packed sets and clocks. He talked a great game and initially refused point blank to play our best junior, who would indicate to us just how good he was. I remember watching events unfold with interest. Within the hour the American packed up all his equipment and promptly left. He lost 6 games in quick succession and never returned. Typical yank, I thought.

12 Dubious Tea Urn causes speedy exit from makeshift cafe during county match

In truth this happened a number of times as county matches tend to seek the same venue. When Bedfordshire first started using the Turner Hall in Newmarket, it had a tea urn that had a problem with its thermostat and teetered on the edge of explosion at times. And what in chess could be worse than traveling across flat countryside, playing out a dull draw in quiet country town, wandering off for a quick cuppa in the endgame, being badly scalded by an exploding tea urn, and then unable to secure the draw! Nothing right? The one occasion I remember this happening was during a casual chat amongst team members, suddenly interrupted by a violent rattling of the tea urn with boiling water spilling over the top, custard creams were laid aside in favour of a hasty exit.

13 Drunken playing session and heavy cigars lead to urinating up walls and puke going everywhere

Another late night session, this time in the Summer of 93 took place at my friends detached house on the town’s most expensive road, involving Ivan Mitchell. Much alcohol was consumed and a box of heavy cigars came out. At the end of the evening, a drunk Ivan decided not to water the flowers but to water the walls twice, finishing the evening off by puking everywhere in the host’s car whilst being driven home. Nice!

14 Relative newcomers encounter air bombs 

It was either November 91 or 92. Several matches were being held at our club, one of which involved Milton Keynes C team. From memory, Milton Keynes joined in 89, drawing in players from the yet to be formed Open University. Many players in their teams were new to our league at the time of the match. The week before I had agreed to let air bombs off in the car park close to the playing hall. A number of heads went up and started looking around to see what was going on a friend told me. During a quick couple of pints in the bar afterwards, no one mentioned the air bombs before setting off in the dark. Alas, a couple of loud bangs weren’t enough to unsettle our opponents, making it the only occasion where such measures were employed.

15 Embarrassing incident over the board

There was a gentleman who played for Leighton Buzzard whose name I forget, he was always rated around 150 (1900) in strength, in his late 50′s, grey-haired, always wore a suit and was very polite, I believe he mentioned once that he worked in the city. The first time I played him was in the very early nineties when Leighton Buzzard had those hideous boards with yellow and black squares, and pieces that were slightly too large to fit on them, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, we had to play in some school on the other side of town, or Linslade as its also known. I’ll never forget the incident during the early middle-game where my impeccably mannered opponent accidentally belched and farted simultaneously with such force that everyone in the room must have heard it. He was quite embarrassed and sincerely apologetic even though, out of courtesy, no one acknowledged what happened….I found it funny.

16 Stand off between karate club and chess club emerges over doors not being closed properly

This happened in 85 or 86, so I didn’t witness it but was told about it several times. The first venue I played in was a horrible church hall which we shared with a karate club, and had to cross through their hall to get to our equipment. I noticed that there were signs on all the doors asking you to close them. Sometimes there were even instructions how to do this. The reason being that many doors slammed loudly and upset the more sensitive karate club members. Once, during a league match, a member from the karate club entered our room, slammed the door as loudly as he could three times and shouted ‘THERE, SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT’. Unsurprisingly, no one got out of their seat and confronted him.

17 From Gambit gets author’s head smashed open

It happened on March 6th 1993. I got a lift into London to buy a book on the From Gambit in Foyle’s. Unfortunately I hadn’t slept much the night before, and whilst ascending an escalator, stretched my back over the rail. I didn’t see the metal and glass display cabinet further up, wrecking it beyond repair with my head. There was quite a lot of blood, out of disorientation and fatigue I then left the book behind on the tube.

18 Acts of extreme violence deny school champion a regular playing partner

I cannot write about my experience of chess at school without mentioning my old friend Jalil who provided stern opposition, enabling me to gain valuable practice as I began playing for my home town. I befriended him instantly when he joined our school as he spoke no English, and when he saw me go up on stage to collect my trophies for winning the school championship and league, he wanted to play at every opportunity. Fortunately we had both been kicked out of almost every class in school already, thus had plenty of opportunity. Sadly, Jalil got himself expelled. He came from a family of martial artists and was a black belt in Karate at 15, he was also very hot tempered. A series of events occurred which finally gained him expulsion. First, he threw a typewriter at another pupil’s head, then in English (we called this class Cards, as everyone played blackjack at the back of class instead of study) the day after Luton won the league cup, a riot occurred in our class, during which he ripped the legs off a table and started whacking another boy round the back and the head with them, then finally he got expelled for beating the games teacher up. Some years later I met up with Jalil again, and true to form we played some chess (this time in his Kebab shop). I was already a county player by then, and he was a 2nd dan in a number of martial arts. He wasn’t a bad chess player and helped me use my time in school more effectively.

19 Under real pressure, the author performed at his very best.

I am not and never will be a great chess player due to a distinct lack of talent, and an inability to retain concentration sufficiently. However, this doesn’t mean that there are moments of which I am not proud. When I assumed the role of B Team Captain, my first task was to stave off relegation. It came down to the last game of the season, at home to Leighton Buzzard B, and more importantly my game. Though my opponent was some 200 FIDE points above me, I was so fired up that he was blown out of the water within 25 moves. I kept my team up, something I remained very proud of for a long time. Whilst playing for our A-team a few years later, I also saved it from relegation by winning the final game of the season’s final match, against Bedford A. It’s true that beating someone with a FIDE rating of around 2000 is nothing exceptional but it was the manner in which it occurred. I played with immense passion.

20 County player takes corners faster than Mansell!

It’s MD again, this time with myself in the back of a car that is running late for a county match against Norfolk, held in the equidistant Newmarket. Mr. Mirza, our driver, decided that we wouldn’t be late and started driving like Mansell, we swerved through some bends on the outskirts of the town so fast that we crossed into an oncoming lane and could have caused a serious accident. MD, who had suffered a nervous breakdown in his youth was a fragile character. He became panicked by the excessive speed, and held onto a handgrip tightly. I remember this because I had to inure hours of monotone analysis, suddenly cut short after he was thrown across the backseat whilst entering a sharp dipping bend, prompting a nervy fixation of the road ahead. It was one of those rare occasions where apparent danger came as a godsend.

21 Player pranked by late night playing session

Poor old Roman, sadly no longer with us. I will be forever indebted to his kindness when, as a junior, he showed me how to play the c3 Sicilian. So it is with a little sadness that I remember a late night session between him, my friend Damon and myself in late 89. He went to bed just before midnight but we kept playing until beyond 4 am. It was a slow Sunday morning in late Autumn, Roman awoke at 8am, and being a guest he could have taken offence at having to wait until 4pm before my friend and I finally awoke and went downstairs. Being a gentleman however, he did not and was even able to greet us with a smile.

22 Crafty pensioner retracts move during game.

In the Summer of 93 I was playing in our club quickplay championship and got up to go to the bar. Looking at my position from afar, I saw my opponent play his move. Upon a second glance some minutes later I also saw him retract the move and play something else. I didn’t mind at all because I was clearly ahead and he was one of the weaker club players. I went on to win and said nothing about it. If anything, I found it quite amusing.

23 Super GM downs Bedfordshire’s finest.

The best player Bedfordshire ever produced is GM Jim Plaskett. Since he has not participated in our league since he was a child for various reasons best known to himself, the accolade of our greatest ever player should go to GM Andy Ledger. I first saw him in action at the Hitchin Open in 89, where he came up against a certain Michael Adams. Andy was way ahead in material, a knight if memory serves me correctly but was under pressure both on the board and on the clock. I remember how it had welled up in his face, knowing that with calm play he would surely beat GM Adams. Sadly for us, a clever tacit ending in a back rant mate put paid to Andy’s efforts.

That is about eventful is it got. Chess is generally a serene affair with little of note, there is nothing else I can think of that is noteworthy. In future blogs I will attempt to write about the mundane, which believe it or not, is usually of greater interest. Until then… .

MJM

New Year Quiz

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