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.
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