Heres a novelty - actually writing my 'blog on the day of the event, rather than a month later. But less of a novelty was my result here at Preston - as so often, I mucked up the first round of a tournament, losing badly in 15 moves.
In fact, I'm in the midst of a bad run at the moment which I must turn around. I lost on Tuesday for the club at Huddersfield, blundering a piece on move 7. Then I lost in a game at the club on Wednesday, admittedly a friendly against a much stronger player, mated on move 13. And I lost in 15 last night. All three losses were due to lack of concentration and missing obvious moves by my opponent, and all three were in relatively unfamiliar openings. I'm going to punish myself, and entertain you, by publishing all of them on here.
I can't afford another grim run like last winters run of 10 defeats in 11 starts, so I have to turn it around. At least, thanks to the precepts, I'm not about to throw in the towel and just stop fighting.
Anyway, the story of last night's game is quickly told. I am staying at my colleague Chris's house in Preston where he lives with his wife & parents. I left work at 3.30 and drove over here, but didn't get here until 6pm owing to the rubbishy traffic on the M62. Chris drove me to the venue - a University building which is part of Central Lancashire University. Its a fairly unprepossessing venue - and let us not forget that I always seem to do badly in poor venues (Hull, Bradford, Huddersfield disasters come to mind) and better in nice ones (Scarborough, Hereford, Grange-over-Sands). I'm obviously very sensitive to environmental influences.
We only just made it on time owing to getting a bit lost, and I hurried to the chess hall only to find I wasn't in the draw. I asked the controller what was going on, only to discover I'd been put in the wrong section and was due to play a much stronger player. "Sod this" I thought to myself and said I would concede the game and just go to the pub with Chris. After some to-ing and fro-ing they re-paired my intended opponent and moved me to the right section, against someone else who's intended opponent hadn't showed.
We sat down to play - he tried the old Albin counter-gambit against me, which I've not played or studied since about 2005, but I remembered the theory well enough and soon was comfortably a pawn up with a protected passed pawn on e6 and threats on another of his pawns - happy days. He played what he *admitted* was a rubbish move, moving a Knight to h4 where it could be trapped if I could get g3 in, so I was soon going to be a piece up. He had one saving resource, a tactic involving forking my King and Queen , which would only work if I made a specific wrong move, which I obligingly did. Game over. I resigned. So gallling.
Went through the game with my happy opponent and he admitted he was losing . It also turned out that I'd seen loads more in the game than I had. Brendan O'Gorman wandered up and helped us go through it. Chris turned up back from his walk, rather surprised that my game was already over! We had a little session which involved the chap showing us his repertoire of opening traps most of which involved people playing unlikely moves.
Chris and I went off for a beer and a chess session in the pub , got a bit drunk and came back here and went to sleep.
Now I'm eating a superb omelette Chris has knocked up. He's a former professional rugby player and he says "you need to start the day properly- its all about preparation". Its certainly a nice omelette - cheese, onion, tomato.
Now I need to do like Russell Goodfellow does and "make someone pay" for what happened to me last night!
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Friday, 27 November 2009
Bury St Edmunds
12 November
I am on holiday in Italy - have just spent a superb few days in Venice looking at the art treasures and architectureand enjoying free hospitality at the Hilton. As I write I am on a train travelling down the spine of Italy from Veniceto Rome.
A footnote to the account of the Scarborough tournament - a few days later, when I was home waiting for the centralheating engineer, an envelope arrived in the post - on opening it I discovered much to my surprise that I had won a prize at Scarborough - £15 for a seventh-share of 4th place! Every little helps, I suppose.
Friday 30 October
To facilitate the journey to Bury St Edmunds I worked in our Dunstable office just north of London and drove to that fair Suffolk town after work. The Bury St Edmunds tournament is one of those unusual ones with no Friday night game and three on Saturday so there was nothing to do on the Friday evening apart from amusing myself in Bury. I arrived at about 6.30pm. The B&B was a substantial townhouse on the edge of the city centre. The landlady hadsounded a somewhat finkicky type on the phone and so it turned out when we met in person - her dress, hair and voice all reminded me a little of Sybil Fawlty and she spent some ten minutes giving me detailed instructions aboutmatters such as how to open the bedroom door, how to turn on the heating etc.
Perusing the guest book, I saw that there were some other chess players staying - including the Cutmore twins, two identical twins in their 50s both of whom also have almost exactly the same (strong) chess rating. I have seen themat numerous tournaments in the past but never got talking to them.
I was staying in a room in a seperate chalet-style building across the carpark which was called the Coach-house. Inorder to get to it, one had to pass through the main buidling and past some cages containing a collection of brightly-coloured cage birds. The room itself was fine, quite cosy and comfortable. I had a drink and wrote up most of the 'blog account of the Scarborough tournament - only a week late! I must make sure I get this 'blog written more immediately after the events, so as not to lose the immediacy for which one strives.
I went out for a few beers. I had a pint and some food in a pub called the grapes, and then headed on into the ancienttown centre and another pub called the Mason's Arms - a small, old pub in the city centre which Morgan Daniels toldme waas owned by an Ispwich town footballer called Mason. After a pint or two there I went on to the Nutshell, whereI always drink when at the Bury tournament - its reputedly the smallest pub in England, no larger than a respectablesized kitchen really with a tiny bar and standing room for about ten people. It's right by the chess venue so quite convenient. It was here that we celebrated Morgan's victory in the Intermediate tournament two years ago.
I got talking to some of the people in there. The pub seems to attract an eccentric crowd, and tonight was nodifferent. There was a drunk and affectionate American woman with a dog. She claimed to be an expert chess playerand that she'd played the world number 2, whose name she unfortunately could not remember but said that he was Swedish!A rather dull, drunk, bloke with a very monotonous voice talked a lot about his ex-wife and marital problems. I had a couple of drinks and at about 11 headed off because the (only) toilet had apparently been blocked and was closed.
Got to bed quite early and had a good night's sleep.
Saturday 31st October
At breakfast all of the chess players had been seated at the same table - the landlady had put nameplaces at each seat. I was sitting with the cutmores, a very strong player called Anderson and another chap who turned up in a neckercheif and waistcoat but never spoke. Alan Fraser, an old bloke who plays more games than anyone else each year, was sitting at the next table. It was a good chance for me to have a bit of a chat to Anderson and the Cutmores, who talked quite interestingly about various tournaments they'd been to, and the travails of the chesscircuit.
Then I headed off the venue which was only a few minutes' walk away. The Bury St Edmunds tournament benefits frombeing played at a superb venue compared to most English chess events - it is in the Corn Exchange, an old building right in the centre of town, which has a nice big, well-lit room upstairs where all the games can be accommodated. Its a very nice venue indeed, though unfortunately the tournament is expected to move to a new placenext year. However, Bob Jones, the organiser, says its an even better location and benefits from having a bar - clearly he knows how to get on my right side!
Russell Goodfellow had been intending to playin this event, but changed his mind owning to lack of cash. Morgan Daniels was playing of course, since he grewup nearby and his parents still live here. When I arrived at the venue, he was there and greeted me with the normal view of what a totally draving sham it all was. He was playing in the Major section - since he had won the intermediatetwo years ago, he doesn't allow himself to play in that any longer. He was the second lowest-rated person in thesection and so had low hopes for the weekend.
The Cutmores and Anderson were playing in the Open. I noticed that both of them had drawn tough opposition in round 1 - one of them had to play a Grandmaster on board 1, and the other was against International Master AdamHunt on board 2.
Morgan and I looked at my board. My opponent was white, and had already moved1. c4. The English - one of my least favourite openings. I said to Daniels that I might as well turn my King over right away!
Game 1 - I managed a draw against the English
My opponent was a bloke from Reading, he was a sturdy-looking chap with shoulder length black curly hair whoreminded me of Lovejoy.
Morgan and I went to the Grapes for lunch. I had chilli and he had fish and chips. He was in a good mood as he had wonhis first game, against a much more high-rated player. He had been behind most of the game until his opponentinexplicably sacrificed the exchange for nothing - possibly he thought he could have got a passed pawn through but Morgan was able to win the pawn and then the game easily. Our food took a long time coming and so we were lategetting back to the venue.
Game 2 - Charge of the Light Brigade
I was playing an old gent who was one of the top seeds for my section. I was White and the game was a Kings Indian. I played my normal f3 going into the Samisch but then for some inexplicable reason decided to launch a Kingsidepawnstorm instead of castling - out came h4 and g4 and all that kind of stuff. I don't know what possessed me, butonce I had had the idea I felt compelled to do it, casting caution to the winds. My King was stuck sadly in the middle of the board whilst on both wings my pawns rampaged suicidally up the ranks. It was very odd- it lookedmore like one of Colin's or Dave Stephenson's positions than one of mine. Naturally enough the whole thing endedin tears like one of those heroic 19th century cavalry charges. As the position fell apart I decided to try and seeif I could survive until the time control at move 36 which I did - just. When we got there, by which time I was apawn and a knight down, my opponent sardonically raised an eyebrow and said "We can add on 20 minutes if you thinkthere's any point carrying on" which wasn't particularly gracious, but in any case I resigned at that point.
One of the hallmarks of my chess in recent weeks had been that I was difficult to beat, so I was annoyed at myselffor giving it away in such a cavalier fashion as that.
It was raining outside. I went for a walk and did some shopping - I had seen a card shop and also a novelty/jokeshop so I went and got some Christmas cards and presents.
As I was getting back to the venue, I ran into the divorced bloke from the pub last night again. As I drew closehe hullooed me - I was surprised that he recognised me. He seemed very interested in the chess and came with me into the venue. We got talking to Morgan who had finished his game by this point. He was pleased again because he'dmanaged a draw in a gane which he thought he had been losing. The chap - Mark - talked a bit and told Daniels offfor using the "c" word. Then we all went to the Nutshell and had a pint or two and Mark told us all about his divorceall over again and some story about how he had been in the RAF and had threatened his ex wife's new lover with a knife and ended up with a suspended sentance as I recall. It was all rather hard to follow.
Eventually Daniels and I managed to shake him off and got back to the venue. We were both taking what he callsa "Bailey bye" in the evening, an opportunity to relax with a beer or two and watch some of the other games. I findthree games in one day to be a bit too tiring - and clearly a lot of other players agreed because about a third ofthe whole field took a Saturday evening bye. Another of the good things about the Bury tournament is the very goodcatering, and we both had a very good plate of lasagne and salad for dinner which only cost £3.
We went to a pub near my B&B to analyse the day's games. We put them into my computer and Morgan found to his surprisethat he had been much better in the afternoon game than he had thought. Because a mass of pawns was encroaching onhis castled King he had thought that he was in trouble but of course computers are much more objective about suchthings and it turned out that he was fine. It's easy to get nervous in such situations as I know all too well. Whenhe offered the draw he was in fact slightly better. There was also a bit of a surprise regarding his first game - even after the bloke had given the unsound exchange sacrifice, he still had a simple way to draw. MOrgan had supposedhe was winning and obviously the other chap did too because he didn't play the simple drawing line - using his Kingto approach Morgan's passed pawn - but clearly had given up the ghost. There are some good lessons there - its alwaysworth looking on for resources when all seems lost, and things are often not as bad as it may seem. Objective thinking, if you can achieve it, has to be the goal.
At closing time I headed back to my B&B and Morgan went off for a taxi back to his parents' place.
I think it might have been the first time I'd played chess on a Hallowee'en and my rather patchy performance wasperhaps effected by the spirits walking abroad. At least it was a good way to avoid trick or treaters.
Sunday 1 November
Another breakfast at the chess table. Like yesterday, I eschewed the fatboy fried stuff in favour of simple cerealand toast. Anderson was grumbling about chess. It was quite encouraging to hear a 2200 strength player whining onjust like I do. He was complaining that he never got any better, all the study was a waste of time, these Grandmastersare impossible to beat, he never gets the openings he wants .. all the normal stuff. We all had quite a nice chat comparing notes about other tournaments and talking about how rubbish most chess books are.
Game 4 - The Spike
I am still on the train in Italy - we have been passing through attractive, hilly countryside, and have justarrived at Florence.
I was on 1/3 on the Sunday morning after a draw, a loss and a bye, not a very impressive effort so far and I knew that I was going to need what Dave Stephenson calls "a big performance" to turn things around.
I was drawn on one of the bottom boards against a chap I had seen at Scarborough - a big bloke with hearing-aidsand a bright blue blazer on which was attached, rather precariously, one of those fabric pocket badges which read"British race walking association".
He played 1. g4 - the Grob aka the Spike opening. Id never faced it before in any online or live game, and had neverreally studied it, even though my friend Markus Wettstein in Australia had been a friend of its inventor, HenryGrob, in Switzerland. So I would just have to work things out as I went along.
After 1 g4 d5 2 Bg2 Bxd5 3 c4 there are various traps possible along the long diagonal leading towards b7. From the speed he played his initial moves it was clear that he knew it well and was familiar with the traps. Given his rating,which was quite low, I concluded that most of his wins came from traps in this opening and that if I could survivethe initial onslaught, he would probably give me winning chances later on. I played 3 .. c6 and then after 4 Qb3 Qb6 because I thought if the Queens came off his chances of causing mischief might be reduced.
And so it proved - the Queens disappeared quickly and then before long he blundered away a piece and the win was straightforward. I queened a pawn and he wouldn't resign so I queened another one and a the end I had two Queens and a Rook against a lone King. In the end he irritably grabbed my pieces and mated himself!
Waiting for Daniels to finish, I had a walk and bought some more Christmas presents in a bargain bookshop and then went back to the venue for lunch. They were out of lasagne so I had a bowl of chilli. Daniels won yet again, another win against a much higher-rated player, and it was looking as though he might be in the money if he won in the last round. We went to the Nutshell for a reviving pint and a complete stranger- a solid American bloke with a crew cut who looked as though he was in the army - bought a round for the house. Admittedly its probably the easiest pub in the country in which to buy a round for the house! I had a tequila,and so once again was going into my last round game after a couple of lunchtime drinks.
Game 5 - another good last round win
In my final game, I was playing a young chap from the Bury St Edmunds club. Morgan knew him and said he was quitea good player. As it turned out it was another fairly straightforward win. The game started 1 d4 (I was White) d52 c4 Bf5 which is another opening I haven't met too often - I think its called the Baltic or Grau defence? No doubtsome of you can correct me on that.
I played 3 Qb3 which I understand to be the normal move, taking advantage ofthe absence of the Bishop from c8, and he seemed to go to pieces pretty quickly - immediately dropping a pawn and soon his position had completely collapsed.
In fact it was only when he was a piece down that he sprung into action, sacrificing a Bishop for a dangerous passeda-pawn. However, my advantage by now was so big - 2 whole pieces up with the Queens off - that I was able to handlethe danger and soon he resigned , in a graceful fashion.
I'm going to have to reconsider my precept about not drinking between games - I always seem to play my best, mostpositive games after a couple of lunchtime drinks! I remember my friend Markus Wettstein used to say in his soundmiddle-European accent, that he played his best games when he was "half drunk or half asleep" and I'm starting to realise that he might have a point! Certainly, a drink like that is good for helping to deal with the pre-game nervesthat so often afflict me. I seem to do much better in the latter rounds of tournaments and most of my worst effortsseem to be in round 1. Which seems to point to the fact that the precept about not withdrawing early is a good one, but the one about not drinking can be relaxed a little.
My game finished early, so I had plenty of time to watch the climax of the other games. Daniels had told me that he thought his game was heading for a dead draw, but clearly he was having a charmed tournament because his opponent blundered two pawns and promptly resigned.
Morgan ended up with 4/5 and was joint winner of the Major withtwo others, much to his surprise. Between the two of use we had got 4/4 today.
We went back to the Nutshell for a celebratory pint. The drunken American woman from Friday night was there, withher dog, but sober this time. There was a chess player in there, gloomily drowning his sorrows - it turned out thatit was his first tournament - he was playing in my section - and that he'd only managed one draw and a lot of defeatsand was telling us how depressed he was. We were both well able to sympathise, having often been in that position ourselves - I told him about how I'd lost 10 games out of 11 over the course of four tournaments last winter and Morgan pointed out the rather depressing fact about chess, which is that the depression following a bad defeats isinvariably intense and lasts longer than the highs that follow good wins. It turned out that the chap's brother had won the section - and that the chap had taught his brother when they were children! The brother arrived soon after, obviously in a rather better mood than his sibling, and it turned out that he was the bloke who had beaten me in my last round match last year, which he remembered, though he graciously attributed it to the fact that I was suffering from a cold at the time.
I said goodbye to the Nutshell for another year and went along to the prize giving to watch Morgan get his winner'scheque. Much to my surprise, it turned out that I had won a prize myself - against the odds, my score of 3/5 wasenough to win me the grading prize for those rated under 100, a handy cheque for £20.
Overall it wasn't a bad tournament for me - it might have been a very good one but for the strange suicidal attackI played in game 2. I said goodbye to Morgan and started the long drive home to Yorkshire.
I am on holiday in Italy - have just spent a superb few days in Venice looking at the art treasures and architectureand enjoying free hospitality at the Hilton. As I write I am on a train travelling down the spine of Italy from Veniceto Rome.
A footnote to the account of the Scarborough tournament - a few days later, when I was home waiting for the centralheating engineer, an envelope arrived in the post - on opening it I discovered much to my surprise that I had won a prize at Scarborough - £15 for a seventh-share of 4th place! Every little helps, I suppose.
Friday 30 October
To facilitate the journey to Bury St Edmunds I worked in our Dunstable office just north of London and drove to that fair Suffolk town after work. The Bury St Edmunds tournament is one of those unusual ones with no Friday night game and three on Saturday so there was nothing to do on the Friday evening apart from amusing myself in Bury. I arrived at about 6.30pm. The B&B was a substantial townhouse on the edge of the city centre. The landlady hadsounded a somewhat finkicky type on the phone and so it turned out when we met in person - her dress, hair and voice all reminded me a little of Sybil Fawlty and she spent some ten minutes giving me detailed instructions aboutmatters such as how to open the bedroom door, how to turn on the heating etc.
Perusing the guest book, I saw that there were some other chess players staying - including the Cutmore twins, two identical twins in their 50s both of whom also have almost exactly the same (strong) chess rating. I have seen themat numerous tournaments in the past but never got talking to them.
I was staying in a room in a seperate chalet-style building across the carpark which was called the Coach-house. Inorder to get to it, one had to pass through the main buidling and past some cages containing a collection of brightly-coloured cage birds. The room itself was fine, quite cosy and comfortable. I had a drink and wrote up most of the 'blog account of the Scarborough tournament - only a week late! I must make sure I get this 'blog written more immediately after the events, so as not to lose the immediacy for which one strives.
I went out for a few beers. I had a pint and some food in a pub called the grapes, and then headed on into the ancienttown centre and another pub called the Mason's Arms - a small, old pub in the city centre which Morgan Daniels toldme waas owned by an Ispwich town footballer called Mason. After a pint or two there I went on to the Nutshell, whereI always drink when at the Bury tournament - its reputedly the smallest pub in England, no larger than a respectablesized kitchen really with a tiny bar and standing room for about ten people. It's right by the chess venue so quite convenient. It was here that we celebrated Morgan's victory in the Intermediate tournament two years ago.
I got talking to some of the people in there. The pub seems to attract an eccentric crowd, and tonight was nodifferent. There was a drunk and affectionate American woman with a dog. She claimed to be an expert chess playerand that she'd played the world number 2, whose name she unfortunately could not remember but said that he was Swedish!A rather dull, drunk, bloke with a very monotonous voice talked a lot about his ex-wife and marital problems. I had a couple of drinks and at about 11 headed off because the (only) toilet had apparently been blocked and was closed.
Got to bed quite early and had a good night's sleep.
Saturday 31st October
At breakfast all of the chess players had been seated at the same table - the landlady had put nameplaces at each seat. I was sitting with the cutmores, a very strong player called Anderson and another chap who turned up in a neckercheif and waistcoat but never spoke. Alan Fraser, an old bloke who plays more games than anyone else each year, was sitting at the next table. It was a good chance for me to have a bit of a chat to Anderson and the Cutmores, who talked quite interestingly about various tournaments they'd been to, and the travails of the chesscircuit.
Then I headed off the venue which was only a few minutes' walk away. The Bury St Edmunds tournament benefits frombeing played at a superb venue compared to most English chess events - it is in the Corn Exchange, an old building right in the centre of town, which has a nice big, well-lit room upstairs where all the games can be accommodated. Its a very nice venue indeed, though unfortunately the tournament is expected to move to a new placenext year. However, Bob Jones, the organiser, says its an even better location and benefits from having a bar - clearly he knows how to get on my right side!
Russell Goodfellow had been intending to playin this event, but changed his mind owning to lack of cash. Morgan Daniels was playing of course, since he grewup nearby and his parents still live here. When I arrived at the venue, he was there and greeted me with the normal view of what a totally draving sham it all was. He was playing in the Major section - since he had won the intermediatetwo years ago, he doesn't allow himself to play in that any longer. He was the second lowest-rated person in thesection and so had low hopes for the weekend.
The Cutmores and Anderson were playing in the Open. I noticed that both of them had drawn tough opposition in round 1 - one of them had to play a Grandmaster on board 1, and the other was against International Master AdamHunt on board 2.
Morgan and I looked at my board. My opponent was white, and had already moved1. c4. The English - one of my least favourite openings. I said to Daniels that I might as well turn my King over right away!
Game 1 - I managed a draw against the English
My opponent was a bloke from Reading, he was a sturdy-looking chap with shoulder length black curly hair whoreminded me of Lovejoy.
Morgan and I went to the Grapes for lunch. I had chilli and he had fish and chips. He was in a good mood as he had wonhis first game, against a much more high-rated player. He had been behind most of the game until his opponentinexplicably sacrificed the exchange for nothing - possibly he thought he could have got a passed pawn through but Morgan was able to win the pawn and then the game easily. Our food took a long time coming and so we were lategetting back to the venue.
Game 2 - Charge of the Light Brigade
I was playing an old gent who was one of the top seeds for my section. I was White and the game was a Kings Indian. I played my normal f3 going into the Samisch but then for some inexplicable reason decided to launch a Kingsidepawnstorm instead of castling - out came h4 and g4 and all that kind of stuff. I don't know what possessed me, butonce I had had the idea I felt compelled to do it, casting caution to the winds. My King was stuck sadly in the middle of the board whilst on both wings my pawns rampaged suicidally up the ranks. It was very odd- it lookedmore like one of Colin's or Dave Stephenson's positions than one of mine. Naturally enough the whole thing endedin tears like one of those heroic 19th century cavalry charges. As the position fell apart I decided to try and seeif I could survive until the time control at move 36 which I did - just. When we got there, by which time I was apawn and a knight down, my opponent sardonically raised an eyebrow and said "We can add on 20 minutes if you thinkthere's any point carrying on" which wasn't particularly gracious, but in any case I resigned at that point.
One of the hallmarks of my chess in recent weeks had been that I was difficult to beat, so I was annoyed at myselffor giving it away in such a cavalier fashion as that.
It was raining outside. I went for a walk and did some shopping - I had seen a card shop and also a novelty/jokeshop so I went and got some Christmas cards and presents.
As I was getting back to the venue, I ran into the divorced bloke from the pub last night again. As I drew closehe hullooed me - I was surprised that he recognised me. He seemed very interested in the chess and came with me into the venue. We got talking to Morgan who had finished his game by this point. He was pleased again because he'dmanaged a draw in a gane which he thought he had been losing. The chap - Mark - talked a bit and told Daniels offfor using the "c" word. Then we all went to the Nutshell and had a pint or two and Mark told us all about his divorceall over again and some story about how he had been in the RAF and had threatened his ex wife's new lover with a knife and ended up with a suspended sentance as I recall. It was all rather hard to follow.
Eventually Daniels and I managed to shake him off and got back to the venue. We were both taking what he callsa "Bailey bye" in the evening, an opportunity to relax with a beer or two and watch some of the other games. I findthree games in one day to be a bit too tiring - and clearly a lot of other players agreed because about a third ofthe whole field took a Saturday evening bye. Another of the good things about the Bury tournament is the very goodcatering, and we both had a very good plate of lasagne and salad for dinner which only cost £3.
We went to a pub near my B&B to analyse the day's games. We put them into my computer and Morgan found to his surprisethat he had been much better in the afternoon game than he had thought. Because a mass of pawns was encroaching onhis castled King he had thought that he was in trouble but of course computers are much more objective about suchthings and it turned out that he was fine. It's easy to get nervous in such situations as I know all too well. Whenhe offered the draw he was in fact slightly better. There was also a bit of a surprise regarding his first game - even after the bloke had given the unsound exchange sacrifice, he still had a simple way to draw. MOrgan had supposedhe was winning and obviously the other chap did too because he didn't play the simple drawing line - using his Kingto approach Morgan's passed pawn - but clearly had given up the ghost. There are some good lessons there - its alwaysworth looking on for resources when all seems lost, and things are often not as bad as it may seem. Objective thinking, if you can achieve it, has to be the goal.
At closing time I headed back to my B&B and Morgan went off for a taxi back to his parents' place.
I think it might have been the first time I'd played chess on a Hallowee'en and my rather patchy performance wasperhaps effected by the spirits walking abroad. At least it was a good way to avoid trick or treaters.
Sunday 1 November
Another breakfast at the chess table. Like yesterday, I eschewed the fatboy fried stuff in favour of simple cerealand toast. Anderson was grumbling about chess. It was quite encouraging to hear a 2200 strength player whining onjust like I do. He was complaining that he never got any better, all the study was a waste of time, these Grandmastersare impossible to beat, he never gets the openings he wants .. all the normal stuff. We all had quite a nice chat comparing notes about other tournaments and talking about how rubbish most chess books are.
Game 4 - The Spike
I am still on the train in Italy - we have been passing through attractive, hilly countryside, and have justarrived at Florence.
I was on 1/3 on the Sunday morning after a draw, a loss and a bye, not a very impressive effort so far and I knew that I was going to need what Dave Stephenson calls "a big performance" to turn things around.
I was drawn on one of the bottom boards against a chap I had seen at Scarborough - a big bloke with hearing-aidsand a bright blue blazer on which was attached, rather precariously, one of those fabric pocket badges which read"British race walking association".
He played 1. g4 - the Grob aka the Spike opening. Id never faced it before in any online or live game, and had neverreally studied it, even though my friend Markus Wettstein in Australia had been a friend of its inventor, HenryGrob, in Switzerland. So I would just have to work things out as I went along.
After 1 g4 d5 2 Bg2 Bxd5 3 c4 there are various traps possible along the long diagonal leading towards b7. From the speed he played his initial moves it was clear that he knew it well and was familiar with the traps. Given his rating,which was quite low, I concluded that most of his wins came from traps in this opening and that if I could survivethe initial onslaught, he would probably give me winning chances later on. I played 3 .. c6 and then after 4 Qb3 Qb6 because I thought if the Queens came off his chances of causing mischief might be reduced.
And so it proved - the Queens disappeared quickly and then before long he blundered away a piece and the win was straightforward. I queened a pawn and he wouldn't resign so I queened another one and a the end I had two Queens and a Rook against a lone King. In the end he irritably grabbed my pieces and mated himself!
Waiting for Daniels to finish, I had a walk and bought some more Christmas presents in a bargain bookshop and then went back to the venue for lunch. They were out of lasagne so I had a bowl of chilli. Daniels won yet again, another win against a much higher-rated player, and it was looking as though he might be in the money if he won in the last round. We went to the Nutshell for a reviving pint and a complete stranger- a solid American bloke with a crew cut who looked as though he was in the army - bought a round for the house. Admittedly its probably the easiest pub in the country in which to buy a round for the house! I had a tequila,and so once again was going into my last round game after a couple of lunchtime drinks.
Game 5 - another good last round win
In my final game, I was playing a young chap from the Bury St Edmunds club. Morgan knew him and said he was quitea good player. As it turned out it was another fairly straightforward win. The game started 1 d4 (I was White) d52 c4 Bf5 which is another opening I haven't met too often - I think its called the Baltic or Grau defence? No doubtsome of you can correct me on that.
I played 3 Qb3 which I understand to be the normal move, taking advantage ofthe absence of the Bishop from c8, and he seemed to go to pieces pretty quickly - immediately dropping a pawn and soon his position had completely collapsed.
In fact it was only when he was a piece down that he sprung into action, sacrificing a Bishop for a dangerous passeda-pawn. However, my advantage by now was so big - 2 whole pieces up with the Queens off - that I was able to handlethe danger and soon he resigned , in a graceful fashion.
I'm going to have to reconsider my precept about not drinking between games - I always seem to play my best, mostpositive games after a couple of lunchtime drinks! I remember my friend Markus Wettstein used to say in his soundmiddle-European accent, that he played his best games when he was "half drunk or half asleep" and I'm starting to realise that he might have a point! Certainly, a drink like that is good for helping to deal with the pre-game nervesthat so often afflict me. I seem to do much better in the latter rounds of tournaments and most of my worst effortsseem to be in round 1. Which seems to point to the fact that the precept about not withdrawing early is a good one, but the one about not drinking can be relaxed a little.
My game finished early, so I had plenty of time to watch the climax of the other games. Daniels had told me that he thought his game was heading for a dead draw, but clearly he was having a charmed tournament because his opponent blundered two pawns and promptly resigned.
Morgan ended up with 4/5 and was joint winner of the Major withtwo others, much to his surprise. Between the two of use we had got 4/4 today.
We went back to the Nutshell for a celebratory pint. The drunken American woman from Friday night was there, withher dog, but sober this time. There was a chess player in there, gloomily drowning his sorrows - it turned out thatit was his first tournament - he was playing in my section - and that he'd only managed one draw and a lot of defeatsand was telling us how depressed he was. We were both well able to sympathise, having often been in that position ourselves - I told him about how I'd lost 10 games out of 11 over the course of four tournaments last winter and Morgan pointed out the rather depressing fact about chess, which is that the depression following a bad defeats isinvariably intense and lasts longer than the highs that follow good wins. It turned out that the chap's brother had won the section - and that the chap had taught his brother when they were children! The brother arrived soon after, obviously in a rather better mood than his sibling, and it turned out that he was the bloke who had beaten me in my last round match last year, which he remembered, though he graciously attributed it to the fact that I was suffering from a cold at the time.
I said goodbye to the Nutshell for another year and went along to the prize giving to watch Morgan get his winner'scheque. Much to my surprise, it turned out that I had won a prize myself - against the odds, my score of 3/5 wasenough to win me the grading prize for those rated under 100, a handy cheque for £20.
Overall it wasn't a bad tournament for me - it might have been a very good one but for the strange suicidal attackI played in game 2. I said goodbye to Morgan and started the long drive home to Yorkshire.
Friday, 20 November 2009
Scarborough tournament
Here I am in a hotel room in Bury St Edmonds for the tournament this weekend, but I've not written about last weekend'sin Scarborough yet. So I better give it a try tonight before I forget it all.
Thursday 22 October
Russell Goodfellow was coming up to Scarborough so the weekend kicked off on Thursday night when he got a coach upto Wakefield and I met him in a pub in town. He seemed to be in bullish form. We headed back to my place via the chip shop and the off licence and had a couple of games of pool (1-1) before going home because he wanted to watch ahorror film. I fell asleep of the film (one of the Saws) but woke up at the end and he showed me some of his new openingideas in the Scotch and the like. It was about 1am by this point so I found it a bit hard to concentrate. Went to bed at about 2am.
Friday 23 October
Felt a bit delicate for most of the day. Went to the usual Friday lunch pub meeting with work colleagues in a Thairestaurant pub. Met Russell at Cross Gates station at 3.30pm and we headed to scarborough. He had warned me that going via York had proved a mistake in the past owing to the heavy traffic, so we went further north, up the exceptionally steep road at Sutton Bank and to Scarborough via Helmsley and Pickering. We made good time. I droppedRussell off at about 5.30 and headed to my B&B.
It was a nice enough place, small typical seaside Guest House with a tiny room but it did the job. I had a bit of a restand then walked down the seafront to the chess venue. The chess was being played in the Spa Complex, a large function venue on the seafront with superb views of the beach and the sea. You could hear the waves crashing in on the shore. I walked to the venue in the rain and, unusually, managed to arrive on time for the first round. As wellas Goodfellow, Dave Stephenson was also playing in this event along with tournament regulars Brendan O'Gorman and Richard Desmedt who by coincidence plays at the same village team as me.
I arrived while the opening ceremony was going on - the mayor of Scarborough was giving a speech about chess andmaking some rather strange comments about how men are better at chess because women are better at multi-tasking. Theaudience was predominantly male but I wondered how that went down with the women who were present.
Game 1 - a bad start
My first game was against Tony Butler, a nice bloke who was there because his son was playing. Often "Dads" are among the weaker playersat a tournament, and this chap didn't even have a rating - turned out it was only his second tournament. I wasn'treally on form though - I played quite passively and negatively and ended up in a cramped position. He seemed quitegood and didn't make any real mistakes. The game dragged on and on past the time control and even though we were inthe "foundation" (bottom) section, we were one of the last boards still playing, which is unusual. I never reallymanaged to get back to terms and was struggling throughout without ever actually losing until right at the end. Itcame down to a Knight + Pawn endgame. Eventually I fell a pawn down but struggled on and on until move 60 when I finallycapitulated as I couldn't prevent him promoting an a-pawn. A disappointing start, though I didn't feel too bad because had just been a bit passive rather than my usual blunders, and he was clearly a good player. The usual risksof playing unrated players because you never know how good they are going to turn out to be.
Goodfellow had had a good win against one of the top players in his section and already gone back, so I wanderedback through the town. I stopped en route and had a curry before going to bed.
Saturday 24 October
Game 2 - a nervy performance against a little girl
I overslept and annoyed my landlady by coming down to breakfast a bit late. I only had toast and hurried to the venue. I was about 10 minutes late. I was drawn against a young girl called Morgan Petrie, who turned out to be the daughter of the arbiter. I hate playing young girls and have had two baddefeats against them recently. At least this one didn't wipe her hand after shaking hands like the one at Bradforddid. She was a pretty poor player, and I was a piece up right in the opening. Dave Stephenson came over and looked at my position and it was fine but right afterwards I played a shocking blunder and blundered back the piece. It was one of those situation where you realise the blunder the very second you take your hand off the piece. I went to geta cup of tea to collect my thoughts and met Russell in the queue. He made a "pistol to the head" gesture and said"you were a piece up and now its horrible"! It was a nasty moment.
Fortunately however, she soon blundered the pieceright back again. it was really a dreadful, amateurish, blunder-ridden game. After that, however, she fell apart andI won quite easily.
Goodfellow drew his game after the usual massive time trouble - he made about 12 moves in 30 seconds to reach the timecontrol. He wasn't all that pleased to have drawn. We went to the pub with his friend Nigel who had lost bothhis games and was pulling out.
Game 3 - an easy win
We got back late again after a pint or two. Theres not much to say about
my third game - it was against the kind ofopponent I'd been expecting in the bottom section who soon blundered a piece and I won quite easily. At least withtwo wins today I was back to a respectable score of 2/3.
I had plenty of time to spare to watch other people's games. Russell got into huge time trouble again and got swindled with a bank-rank mate threat.
Went out after the games for a pint with Russell and his friend Riley. Riley is a fairly irascible bloke who oftengets a big angry during his games. He was friendly enough in the pub though. We went to a place called the Blue Loungewhich had a happy hour on, £2 for all pints, and had a couple of beers there and a chat to the bar manager who was a young student paying for his way through University which was interesting. Then Russell and Riley went off forsome chips and I went back to my guest house to get rid of my bag. I got a take-away meal from an Italian restaurant- a very nice risotto with bacon and asparagus, which was quite high-class for a take-away. There was a fierce notice in the guest house forbidding guests to bring take-aways, though I think it was mainly aimed at curry. Still ,I snuck my risotto in and ate it very carefully so as not to make a mess.
I fell asleep for a bit and woke up at about 10pm. I had agreed to meet up with Russell again. I didn't really feellike it, but I forced myself and in the end it was worth it. We went to quite a nice pub on the seafront where therewas quite a reasonable covers band playing. They did a few 70s and 80s numbers. They were called Swagger - most of the band members were in their 40s Id say but there was a young bloke on the lead guitar. We had a few beers and watched.Riley got a bit drunk and started annoying Goodfellow by drinking his beer very fast and then pretending it was Goodfellow's round. The band finished and we went back. Goodfellow had had to change accommodation when he turnedup to the place he thought he'd booked and found they weren't doing rooms any more! He wasn't happy. So he shiftedto another place but then forgot where it was and apparently ended up wandering the streets for an hour. I had nosuch alarms and was soon asleep.
Sunday 25 October
Game 4 - missed opportunity
On Sunday morning I got a bit of a lie in because the clocks had gone back.
I paid up for my B&B and drove into town. I had to find somewhere to park for the day. Parking was somewhat in short supply, so I ended up putting it on a street high above the chess venue, where it could only stay until noon. Scarborough is a town built on steep cliffs rising sharply from the sea, and it was on top of one ofthose. The 12 noon curfew for my game was obviously potentially a bit of a problem, since it could go on until 1.30in theory, so I decided I'd just have to play quickly.
Naturally, in such circumstances, the game turned out to be a bit of a grind. I was playing an old Scottish bloke wholooked like a retired docker. He played a stolid, uninspiring game, but was hard to break down. I went a pawn up butit was isolated, so I used the open lines on either side of it to apply pressure. Gradually I managed to get an advantage but as the noon deadline approached, I wasn't getting through. I felt a bit like Cinderella. In the end, with noon getting close, the pieces all got swapped off and he took the extra pawn with his King and we agreed a draw. Typical of one of my games - a good opening and pressure but I couldn't find a way to convert it.
I went and shifted my car to a location further along the clifftop where Dave Stephenson had told me there was free parking. Then I went to Wetherspoons for lunch with Russell Goodfellow. After the morning's draw my last fainthope of prize money was gone, so I had a roast beef dinner and a couple of pints.
Game 5 - saving the best for last
It was a fair step from Wetherspoons to the venue and after a long wait for my lunch, I was 15 minutes late for the game. I had had two pints and since there was nothing now to play for, I wasn't really all that bothered about this last game. Probably because of that, I played my best game of the whole tournament. Unfortunately, despite my best intentions,I have not been writing up this account right after the games as I planned - in fact, at the time of writing, Iam on a train from Venice to Rome almost three weeks after the tournament, on November 12th, so I don't recallthe details of the game. What does stick in my mind is that my opponent tried one of the premature Kingside attackswhich have often caused me problems - think of the game against Turloch Kelly at Galway, and there was also one at Bradford, both of which I lost when I should have won easily - so I was pleased this time to be able to fend off the attack, ensure his pieces were misplaced as a result, and then easily win with a nice assault on the empty Queenside. It was a pleasing win, and my final score of 3.5/5 was just about respectable.
I hung around the venue a bit for a chat with some of the other players, went and picked Russell up from the pub andthen we climbed up the steep hill back to the car and drove back to my place. In the evening we went out for a few beersthough since it was a Sunday most of the pubs closed at 10.30pm. We did manage to find one - the Ship in HorburyBridge - which stayed open until 11, and had a final couple there whilst chatting to a couple of blokes who lived onboats on the canal.
Thursday 22 October
Russell Goodfellow was coming up to Scarborough so the weekend kicked off on Thursday night when he got a coach upto Wakefield and I met him in a pub in town. He seemed to be in bullish form. We headed back to my place via the chip shop and the off licence and had a couple of games of pool (1-1) before going home because he wanted to watch ahorror film. I fell asleep of the film (one of the Saws) but woke up at the end and he showed me some of his new openingideas in the Scotch and the like. It was about 1am by this point so I found it a bit hard to concentrate. Went to bed at about 2am.
Friday 23 October
Felt a bit delicate for most of the day. Went to the usual Friday lunch pub meeting with work colleagues in a Thairestaurant pub. Met Russell at Cross Gates station at 3.30pm and we headed to scarborough. He had warned me that going via York had proved a mistake in the past owing to the heavy traffic, so we went further north, up the exceptionally steep road at Sutton Bank and to Scarborough via Helmsley and Pickering. We made good time. I droppedRussell off at about 5.30 and headed to my B&B.
It was a nice enough place, small typical seaside Guest House with a tiny room but it did the job. I had a bit of a restand then walked down the seafront to the chess venue. The chess was being played in the Spa Complex, a large function venue on the seafront with superb views of the beach and the sea. You could hear the waves crashing in on the shore. I walked to the venue in the rain and, unusually, managed to arrive on time for the first round. As wellas Goodfellow, Dave Stephenson was also playing in this event along with tournament regulars Brendan O'Gorman and Richard Desmedt who by coincidence plays at the same village team as me.
I arrived while the opening ceremony was going on - the mayor of Scarborough was giving a speech about chess andmaking some rather strange comments about how men are better at chess because women are better at multi-tasking. Theaudience was predominantly male but I wondered how that went down with the women who were present.
Game 1 - a bad start
My first game was against Tony Butler, a nice bloke who was there because his son was playing. Often "Dads" are among the weaker playersat a tournament, and this chap didn't even have a rating - turned out it was only his second tournament. I wasn'treally on form though - I played quite passively and negatively and ended up in a cramped position. He seemed quitegood and didn't make any real mistakes. The game dragged on and on past the time control and even though we were inthe "foundation" (bottom) section, we were one of the last boards still playing, which is unusual. I never reallymanaged to get back to terms and was struggling throughout without ever actually losing until right at the end. Itcame down to a Knight + Pawn endgame. Eventually I fell a pawn down but struggled on and on until move 60 when I finallycapitulated as I couldn't prevent him promoting an a-pawn. A disappointing start, though I didn't feel too bad because had just been a bit passive rather than my usual blunders, and he was clearly a good player. The usual risksof playing unrated players because you never know how good they are going to turn out to be.
Goodfellow had had a good win against one of the top players in his section and already gone back, so I wanderedback through the town. I stopped en route and had a curry before going to bed.
Saturday 24 October
Game 2 - a nervy performance against a little girl
I overslept and annoyed my landlady by coming down to breakfast a bit late. I only had toast and hurried to the venue. I was about 10 minutes late. I was drawn against a young girl called Morgan Petrie, who turned out to be the daughter of the arbiter. I hate playing young girls and have had two baddefeats against them recently. At least this one didn't wipe her hand after shaking hands like the one at Bradforddid. She was a pretty poor player, and I was a piece up right in the opening. Dave Stephenson came over and looked at my position and it was fine but right afterwards I played a shocking blunder and blundered back the piece. It was one of those situation where you realise the blunder the very second you take your hand off the piece. I went to geta cup of tea to collect my thoughts and met Russell in the queue. He made a "pistol to the head" gesture and said"you were a piece up and now its horrible"! It was a nasty moment.
Fortunately however, she soon blundered the pieceright back again. it was really a dreadful, amateurish, blunder-ridden game. After that, however, she fell apart andI won quite easily.
Goodfellow drew his game after the usual massive time trouble - he made about 12 moves in 30 seconds to reach the timecontrol. He wasn't all that pleased to have drawn. We went to the pub with his friend Nigel who had lost bothhis games and was pulling out.
Game 3 - an easy win
We got back late again after a pint or two. Theres not much to say about
my third game - it was against the kind ofopponent I'd been expecting in the bottom section who soon blundered a piece and I won quite easily. At least withtwo wins today I was back to a respectable score of 2/3.
I had plenty of time to spare to watch other people's games. Russell got into huge time trouble again and got swindled with a bank-rank mate threat.
Went out after the games for a pint with Russell and his friend Riley. Riley is a fairly irascible bloke who oftengets a big angry during his games. He was friendly enough in the pub though. We went to a place called the Blue Loungewhich had a happy hour on, £2 for all pints, and had a couple of beers there and a chat to the bar manager who was a young student paying for his way through University which was interesting. Then Russell and Riley went off forsome chips and I went back to my guest house to get rid of my bag. I got a take-away meal from an Italian restaurant- a very nice risotto with bacon and asparagus, which was quite high-class for a take-away. There was a fierce notice in the guest house forbidding guests to bring take-aways, though I think it was mainly aimed at curry. Still ,I snuck my risotto in and ate it very carefully so as not to make a mess.
I fell asleep for a bit and woke up at about 10pm. I had agreed to meet up with Russell again. I didn't really feellike it, but I forced myself and in the end it was worth it. We went to quite a nice pub on the seafront where therewas quite a reasonable covers band playing. They did a few 70s and 80s numbers. They were called Swagger - most of the band members were in their 40s Id say but there was a young bloke on the lead guitar. We had a few beers and watched.Riley got a bit drunk and started annoying Goodfellow by drinking his beer very fast and then pretending it was Goodfellow's round. The band finished and we went back. Goodfellow had had to change accommodation when he turnedup to the place he thought he'd booked and found they weren't doing rooms any more! He wasn't happy. So he shiftedto another place but then forgot where it was and apparently ended up wandering the streets for an hour. I had nosuch alarms and was soon asleep.
Sunday 25 October
Game 4 - missed opportunity
On Sunday morning I got a bit of a lie in because the clocks had gone back.
I paid up for my B&B and drove into town. I had to find somewhere to park for the day. Parking was somewhat in short supply, so I ended up putting it on a street high above the chess venue, where it could only stay until noon. Scarborough is a town built on steep cliffs rising sharply from the sea, and it was on top of one ofthose. The 12 noon curfew for my game was obviously potentially a bit of a problem, since it could go on until 1.30in theory, so I decided I'd just have to play quickly.
Naturally, in such circumstances, the game turned out to be a bit of a grind. I was playing an old Scottish bloke wholooked like a retired docker. He played a stolid, uninspiring game, but was hard to break down. I went a pawn up butit was isolated, so I used the open lines on either side of it to apply pressure. Gradually I managed to get an advantage but as the noon deadline approached, I wasn't getting through. I felt a bit like Cinderella. In the end, with noon getting close, the pieces all got swapped off and he took the extra pawn with his King and we agreed a draw. Typical of one of my games - a good opening and pressure but I couldn't find a way to convert it.
I went and shifted my car to a location further along the clifftop where Dave Stephenson had told me there was free parking. Then I went to Wetherspoons for lunch with Russell Goodfellow. After the morning's draw my last fainthope of prize money was gone, so I had a roast beef dinner and a couple of pints.
Game 5 - saving the best for last
It was a fair step from Wetherspoons to the venue and after a long wait for my lunch, I was 15 minutes late for the game. I had had two pints and since there was nothing now to play for, I wasn't really all that bothered about this last game. Probably because of that, I played my best game of the whole tournament. Unfortunately, despite my best intentions,I have not been writing up this account right after the games as I planned - in fact, at the time of writing, Iam on a train from Venice to Rome almost three weeks after the tournament, on November 12th, so I don't recallthe details of the game. What does stick in my mind is that my opponent tried one of the premature Kingside attackswhich have often caused me problems - think of the game against Turloch Kelly at Galway, and there was also one at Bradford, both of which I lost when I should have won easily - so I was pleased this time to be able to fend off the attack, ensure his pieces were misplaced as a result, and then easily win with a nice assault on the empty Queenside. It was a pleasing win, and my final score of 3.5/5 was just about respectable.
I hung around the venue a bit for a chat with some of the other players, went and picked Russell up from the pub andthen we climbed up the steep hill back to the car and drove back to my place. In the evening we went out for a few beersthough since it was a Sunday most of the pubs closed at 10.30pm. We did manage to find one - the Ship in HorburyBridge - which stayed open until 11, and had a final couple there whilst chatting to a couple of blokes who lived onboats on the canal.
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