What a Crockett III

In the previous two pieces in this series we've been looking with scepticism at the playing record of Stephen Crockett, four-time Grand Prix champion and winner of numerous tournaments, recently retired from the circuit after questions were asked about the integrity of his results, yet nevertheless recently made controller of the very same Grand Prix.

It's only fair to observe that, following his own announcement of his retirement, he's made some effort, on his Facebook page, to provide an explanation of some of the more remarkable features of his record and to rebut charges of sandbagging. This is recorded in comments he himself has made to this posting. For the convenience of readers I have provided copies of these comments at the foot of this piece.

Mr Crockett plays down the possibility of sandbagging by observing that there is no meaningful financial incentive, in amateur circuit chess, in fixing one's own results to one's disadvantage.

The first thing to understand about the idea of 'sandbagging' is that chess would be one of the most pointless sports/games to do it in on the whole- as regrettably there just isn't any significant money to be made in it apart from at the top level (in the UK at least). The only way anyone could get a significant financial advantage from losing games on purpose would be if given one off bungs to lose a game (not common as there's no gambling on chess apart from at the very top), or for someone who was in the 'second tier'- i.e. a very strong/titled player who would struggle to win much in tournaments with super Grand Masters but could hope to take home a sizeable pot from being eligible for a grade restricted but still extremely strong- stars barred type tournament.

This is no doubt the case, although at the same time, it's not an argument that applies to a player of Mr Crockett's real or apparent strength. The point that follows, however, addresses his situation more directly.

Some people talk about graded sections lower down in chess and wonder if people may want to lose on purpose to keep in a lower section than they should do- but that's largely a red herring- there simply isn't any money in it (the costs of entering to and travelling to tournaments usually outweigh the prize money even if one is lucky enough to win the section not to mention the costs associated with all the fruitless trips you'd end up making while losing games!)- the only occasional time I could see this happening is if someone enters ay 2 or 3 local/big events which do have decent money on offer in a year and doesn't otherwise play a lot and could easily lose a few league games to 'manage' their grade.

This is the same argument as in the preceding passage - "there simply isn't any money in it" - and it's as true as it's irrelevant. Why would the motive of an amateur who cheats necessarily be money? Moreover, if our only motive is money, why would we play in the first place, since "there simply isn't any money in it"?

In reality people have all sorts of motivations for trying to win, be they some kind of glory, self-satisfaction, the admiration of others and many other things. Where those motivations exist for winning, they exist also for cheating. People do, in fact, cheat in amateur as well as professional competitions.

So if you see no reason for cheating, other than money, then you are really not looking very hard. As a rebuttal it doesn't even make it out of the starting gate.

The major part of Mr Crockett's explanation is more serious.

He argues that the reasons for the inconsistency in his results are health-related: that he suffers from depression and that this has caused him to have inconsistent results.

He also claims, in addressing the question of how he achieved a large number of scores of zero or close to zero, that he continued playing at events where he was feeling practically unable to play - partly because chess served as an addiction and partly because he'd already paid entry fees and hotel bills.

Key passages:

So how about inconsistency in some players play..why does it happen..is it sandbagging? In the vast majority of cases almost certainly not. Partly for the reasons outlined at the top of this thread e.g. lack of financial incentive, partly because of players pride and desire to increase their grade and playing strength. The reality is that there are a lot of reasons for wildly varying results- they vary by player and include age, health, other life priorities, tiredness, not being in right frame of mind/mental attitude, panic, time management, the strength of opponents they're playing/adjusting to a new level, type of opening/changing style..the list goes on..

In my own case there have been a combination of circumstances that have affected me and stopped my chess strength and grade progressing in the way i'd have liked so far. The overriding one is health related- not something I usually will talk about in a public forum but since August 2011 i've faced a near constant battle with depression/anxiety and linked mental health issues. I was diagnosed in October 2011 after a few rough months and some time of not being fit for work. I've been almost constantly on medication of varying levels since October 11. However, one of the things that also helped me cope and get over the worst of it was playing chess

That was the start of the 4 years of near constant chess playing- like an addiction- generally good for me but also far too much chess to be able to play consistently well all the time. Health wise I had a good period but then over the past four years have had several relapses involving periods of panic/depression/poor concentration and time of being unfit for work and having to raise/change medication doses until things settled down again. Sadly my chess form went along with the bounces and dips I was experiencing mentally and I had periods when I could barely concentrate one move ahead- and others when I was feeling good and confident and focused where I was able to play well and really relax at the board in the right way.

The long distance tournaments were often particularly tough as I was having sleep problems when not well which made the concentration problems which go with the illness even worse,but I was entering events weeks or months in advance when i didnt know how id feel- paying for hotels and I was addicted to the lifestyle so would keep on going and playing regardless of how I felt that weekend.

Now to a degree I am sympathetic to Mr Crockett. This is because I have considerable experience myself, both of depression and of playing chess with depression. Depression is a million miles from easy and your chess can, indeed, sometimes be crippled by it. It surely does make your results inconsistent.

But at the same time, I find it extremely unconvincing as an explanation for the bizarre pattern of his results. It's not an all-purpose explanation of everything.

It doesn't account, in reality, for the practical disappearance of mid-table results from Mr Crockett's record. It is as if depression always struck either in the most crippling manner or not at all. Is that really the way it works? Over a long period? Really?

You don't get weekends when you feel great in the morning but lousy in the evening, or when you can play at your best on Saturday but not at all on Sunday? You don't score fifty per cent or sixty percent or forty per cent on a regular basis simply out of happenstance?

A strange affliction indeed, that doesn't prevent the sufferer winning "a record breaking 48 tournament wins including five British titles" - an extraordinary record - but nevertheless seems almost to prevent its sufferer scoring between two and three out of five in a tournament. One that doesn't prevent the sufferer travelling or turning up to play, but does stop them being able to play any kind of decent chess.

The thing about depression is that while its effects can be manic in a variety of ways, they're not magic. The last thing that depression is, is convenient. Yet the way it's claimed to have worked out here has been really convenient. If you're Stephen Crockett.

So why has it apparently worked this way just for Stephen Crockett? Depression, unfortunately, is not rare, among the public as a whole or among chessplayers. Where are the other players who, over a long period, alternate score after score of close to 100% with score after score of close to zero? Why is this pattern of scores so unusual?

You can invoke health problems as an explanation of spotty results, sure. No problem. As an explanation for being at both ends of the bell curve at once, perhaps less so.

So is this really an adequate explanation of why somebody is able to win dozens of titles and yet is able to lose games in grade-deflating quantities - in other words, that everything just happened to work out to the sufferer's advantage?

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Moreover, I'm a long way short of convinced that it can serve as an explanation for Mr Crockett's remarkable run of twenty-six rapidplay defeats and a draw in 2010-11, at a time when his standardplay results were apparently unaffected by anything that was happening to his health (and, by the way, prior to the period in which he points to depression as an explanation for unusual results).

That's a run of results that would be immensely unlikely even for the consistently weakest player at a tournament, which Mr Crockett was not. As it is, whichever way you calculate the odds, they're going to come out at millions-to-one against.

So how did that extraordinary sequence happen to occur?

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Mind you, it's not really a question of whether I'm convinced or not. It's a question of whether other players are convinced. And it's a question of whether those players' representatives have undertaken a process of evaluating Mr Crockett's explanations that is sufficiently rigorous for them to be properly convinced.

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Publically, at least, I've not seen word one from the ECF, who both operate the Grand Prix and grade the results that are at issue. I don't find this a satisfactory situation.

I am under no illusion that it would be straightforward to investigate any player's results and come up with a definitive conclusion as to whether or not they were obtained legitimately. If only life were that easy. On the other hand, it is not good for the integrity of English chess to ignore results which attract public comment in the way that these results have.

Other sports have often chosen to ignore suspicious results, or at very least have chosen to give that impression by keep any investigations that they've undertaken under wraps. Often as a result, they have run into serious credibility problems. A paragraph from a recent piece on alleged match-fixing in tennis is worth reproducing here.

If there is one lesson of the past year, as trust in football and athletics has been decimated by corruption scandals, it is that sports governing bodies must conduct their business in the light. The never apologise, never explain approach of the TIU does not inspire confidence.

Quite. Sports governing bodies must conduct their business in the light. Though, as the writer might have continued, by and large they don't.

Especially the ECF.

Claims of sandbagging in the lower sections of the chess Grand Prix are not, of course, remotely on the same level as accusations of doping cycling and athletics or match-fixing in cricket or in tennis. But the problem - the problem of the integrity of competitions - is the same. Where there are results about which there is reason to be suspicious, then you can't just ignore them. Because what are you going to do when they crop up again?

I would like to assume the ECF has not just ignored the reservations that people have expressed about this particular competitor's record. I would like to assume, too, that they have not left any complaints unanswered. I would like to assume further that they do, as a matter of routine and as best as they are able, look into the circumstances involved in any suspicious pattern of results that comes to their attention.

Otherwise it would be quite remarkable to have gone and made Stephen Crockett the controller of the Grand Prix.

Because it's one thing brushing a problem under the carpet. It would be quite another putting it on the mantelpiece.

[Entirely anonymous comments will not be accepted on this series of articles. Stephen Crockett was contacted more than once in connection with these pieces but failed to provide any information in reply.]

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