Streatham Chess Teams - Bumper News Update

I've had stolid before, as well as boring, pain in the ass, dogged, dull and lucky - but never before has my style of play been described as scintillating chess. Still, that's how Captain Martin described my effort in Streatham & Brixton Chess Club's recent First Team match, on Monday in London League Division One against Kings Head I. I'd have gone for stereotypical myself, before anyone adds that in the comments.

Robin also won a spirited attacking game, but the evening itself ended up 6-4 to them with two games adjourned. We certainly have winning chances in each of them - and the prospect of a tied match would be a great result, since they outgraded us by 10 to 20 points on nearly every board.

However - and much more importantly, as far as the fate of the season as a whole is concerned - Toby won his complex adjournment from the match against Athenauem, meaning we win that one 7-4, with Susan's adjournment still outstanding. I don't know about you, but I'm starting to count some chickens...

Meanwhile, our Second Team - in London League Division Three - continue their remarkable run, having squeezed out victories from two close matches, beating both Battersea I and Wanstead by the score of 5½ to 4½. Although it remains incredibly tight at the top of the table - all this leaves them in second place, and thus in a promotion spot. Good luck for the rest of the season, chaps...

Are you thinking it's all good news for Streatham & Brixton Chess Club? Alas, not quite. On January 24th, Guildford knocked us out of the Alexander Cup, by a score of 5½-4½. Twelve days later they had the temerity to beat us again - this time in the Surrey Trophy at their venue - by a score of 4½-2½ (with Bob's game due for adjudication.) All that singing and dancing has obviously not gone to their heads, and Abba must be better for your chess than I'd guessed.

But - to finish on a high note - our second team faired considerably better on 8th February in the Croydon League, winning their match 3½-1½ against South Norwood. "Heroic performances from Alan and Alexey, who won both their games in spite of arriving late because of delays," emails Richard. The team now has a fully respectable score of 1½ points from 3 matches.

And - for now - that's it!

How to play (more) chess?

Looking back over the season I see that between 5th October and my last game on 8th February I've played a grand total of 11 games. I might get perhaps another half a dozen games in before the end of the season at that rate. Although I'm having quite a good run this year (+6=4-1, thanks for asking) that doesn't seem like enough to get even vaguely competent at this game so I've been thinking of how I might play more.

I've come up with a few options...

1. Stop offering early draws to make the games last longer
2. Play Weekend Tournaments
3. Play Quickplay Tournaments
4. Join another club to play in Leagues other than Croydon/London/Surrey
5. Try to get involved in County Chess again
6. See if there's a 4NCL team I might be able to play for
7. Play the Surrey Individual Tournament this summer
8. Play Blitz chess on the Internet
9. Play against my computer more often
10. Start actually studying all those books I've collected over the years.
11. Conduct a thorough analysis (perhaps computer assisted) of my games.

So what do people think would be (a) best for my chess and (b) most fun?

How many games a year is optimal for you and what's the format you most enjoy?

A little learning

White to play and mate in - apparently - a maximum of thirty-three moves.

The position comes from Reuben Fine's Basic Chess Endings, still to my mind the greatest chess book of them all and one that probably deserves a better fate than being parked, as mine is, next to the loo. (Although in my case, this does entail sharing shelf space with a translation of Virgil's Aeneid in a probably vain effort to impress our visitors.)

I very much doubt that I could find the mate in thirty-three, though I'm fairly sure that I could do it inside fifty. I learned how to go about it at a training weekend for Hertfordshire juniors in, I'm thinking, 1983. My tutor was none other than Nigel Povah, now of Guildford. He taught us how to manoeuvre the Black king into the "wrong" corner (of opposite colour to the bishop) before performing a delicate sequence which forces the king into the other corner, where he can be mated. You probably have to know what you're doing, as at one point the Black king seems to be escaping from the side of the board.

Being less of a utilitarian and more of an advocate of learning for its own sake, I can't really complain that despite having known, for quarter of a century, how to mate with bishop and knight, I've never had the chance to do it in practice. Not in a tournament game, not in a blitz game, not even in an offhand game. Ironically enough I've had it done against me, at St Albans in (possibly) 1994.

I've also seen it not done, when my friend Sean Terry was on the wrong end of the material balance in a 4NCL game. You can see his opponent fail to win by accessing Chessbase Online Database and inputting Murphy for White and Terry for Black. White's 75th move in particular demonstrates that he didn't know what he was doing. He was - had he known it - quite close to completing the first of the two stages outlined above: but that he was, however, baffled, is confirmed by the fact that his 76th move involved reversing the move that he'd just played.

Embarrassing, no? I think it'd be pretty hard to work it out against the clock, even for a good player, though in truth my St Albans opponent claimed not to have known the technique beforehand. In a blitz finish it'd be even harder. So - can you do it? Can you do it inside fifty moves against your computer? And have you ever had to do it in practice? Have you ever seen it done? Or seen it not done, for that matter?

Streatham & Brixton All-Stars

A few days ago Justin sent me an email with the following link

http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/extra/addresses.html.

It seems Isidoro Gunsberg, who challenged Steinitz for the World Championship in December 1890/January 1891, lived just around the corner from me.

Gunsberg did much better than Zukertort and Chigorin. He only lost 10.5 - 8.5. Around 20 years later he was living in Knollys Road, Streatham. The chess club was definitely active back then. I wonder if he ever popped along for a game.

The house is still standing but, as you can see from the photo above, it doesn't look as if it's received too much attention since Isi was around and is looking a little grubby now.

Are they still handing out Blue Plaques I wonder?

A point of order

There's a certain flaw in the Raetsky and Chetverik book, involving the main line Catalan - the variation played most often in top-level chess. It involves the means by which we reach the position that arises after the following sequence: 1.d4 d5 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 Nf6 4.g3 Be7 5.Bg2 O-O 6.O-O dxc4.



Now there's any number of ways of playing those particular moves - for instance, I'd tend to start with 1.Nf3 and 2.c4 and I might either face 1...d5 and 2...e6 or 1...Nf6 and 2...e6 followed by 3...d5. However, normally after White's fourth move the following position is reached:


(This isn't entirely true, by the way. For instance the white knight could still be on g1 and the bishop on g2, and this has certain implications if White continues with 5.Qa4+, as Kramnik recently did for instance when playing the computer. However, at the moment we're discussing the normal main line where White continues 5.Nf3 if the bishop has already moved, or 5.Bg2 if it has not. It's the implications of Black's move-order that concern us here.)

Now anyone who's played the Catalan will recall that there are two main options here. One is the line described above, where Black plays 4...Be7 and then captures the pawn on move six. This is generally the more solid line (though this didn't stop me losing a brevity with White against a kid at Southend not long ago - the finish was published in Chess Monthly). For a riskier but more open game, one plays 4...dxc4 (as did Topalov against Kramnik) and then after 5.Bg2/5.Nf3 there's any number of options - 5...a6, 5...c6, 5...b5, 5...c5, 5...Bb4+, 5...Nc6 and a couple of others besides.

Oddly, though one never sees 5...Be7 in the position - or not in the books, anyway. Nor does one ever see 4...Be7 followed by 5...dxc4 - the pawn capture is always on move six rather than move five. This puzzled me in the past and indeed I played that way (4...Be7 and 5...dxc4) in a correspondence game once just to see what happened. Nothing did, except a transposition.

Which takes us back to Raetsky and Chetverik (hereafter, R&C): because their chapter on the main line does use this move order: 4...dxc4 5.Bg2 Be7 6.O-O O-O. They comment, explicitly:

The position after 6.O-O O-O arises in the main via the move order 1.d4 d5 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 Nf6 4.g3 Be7 5.Bg2 O-O 6.O-O dxc4. But all roads lead to Rome.

Well, that's clear enough. It's purely conventional to take the pawn on move six: one could take on move five, if one preferred, or move four and then play 5...Be7 and no harm done.

Really? Well, I'd have known no different, but then I read John Donaldson's review in which he observes that there's a good reason why Black doesn't play R&C's move order.

you certainly would not see Anatoly Karpov playing this way with Black. No, he would opt for 4...Be7 5.Bg2 0-0 6.0-0 dxc4. Why, because of 4...dxc4 5.Bg2 Be7?! 6.Qa4+ Nbd7 7.Qxc4 a6 8.Qc2 and Black has no time to play ...b5.

What's that? Well, let's have a look at what normally happens and then we can perhaps see why the move-order may be a problem.

There's a lot of different ways of proceeding from the top diagram, but the one we're interested in here, and Kramnik's current favourite, goes as follows: 7.Qc2 a6 8.Qxc4 b5 9.Qc2 Bb7.


You'll note that White's queen is driven away by 8...b5 and then Black puts his bishop on the long diagonal the very next move.

So what if we use the R&C move order? From this position


White continues 6.Qa4+! Well ,what does that accomplish? The answer comes after the sequence 6...Nbd7 7.Qxc4 a6 8.Qc2!


Because now if 8...b5 trying to transpose back into the main line White has 9.Ne5! and Black is in terrible trouble on the long diagonal. This has come about because White hasn't spent a move on castling and therefore has an extra move to get the queen out of range of the b-pawn. White doesn't have this line after 4...dxc4 5.Qa4+ because even if White's played Bg2 already, claiming the diagonal, Black hasn't spent a move on ...Be7 and can therefore use the extra move to do all sorts of useful things. And White doesn't have the line after 6...dxc4 because Black has castled and 7.Qa4 wouldn't be check.

This doesn't mean Black's losing in the final diagram - it's just more difficult to free his or her position, which is what White wants. It's just, as Donaldson says, "a suboptimal move order" and therefore one I'd like to have known about.

But he says more than that.

I am 100 percent certain that the authors know that 4...dxc4 5.Bg2 Be7?! is a suboptimal move order and only used it for ease of presentation, but am not so confident that many of their readers will realize this.

But hang on - that's surely not good enough. Because if it matters, why weren't we told about it? What's going on here - and why? If R&C knew about it why deliberately leave it out? Isn't it precisely because we need to know about little move-order tricks like that, that people are paid to write books for our benefit?

I'd guess that Donaldson is wrong and that they didn't know about this trick - after all, neither did Alex Baburin in his review of the Dunnington book on the opening. Is the trick really that well-known? Chessbase Online Database shows twenty-four games where Black players of 2400+ strength used the "suboptimal move order", including Lautier and Beliavsky. Hardly any of them got beaten and hardly any of their White opponents played 6.Qa4+. So - if it's so well-known, such that we can be 100% sure that R&C knew about it - why isn't it more often played? Or, perhaps - what does the alternative move-order offer Black?

I don't know. It's a mystery.

Who?

"Soviet-style, I was not very concerned about hygiene. In my suitcase
there were a few sets of underwear, which I had brought with me from
Leningrad. Karin did not know how to conduct herself, but my behaviour
seriously irritated her. And one day she exclaimed: 'My husband changes
his underwear everyday!' And I remembered this phrase all my life."

... but who is our grandmaster?

Another Wild Position

This position is one of those that look like they must be composed but in fact comes from a real game.

It's Janowski - Ed. Lasker, New York 1924. I came across it while thumbing through Tartakower and Du Mont's 500 Master Games of Chess the other day.

Black is about to play his 67th move.

Would anybody care to punt some analysis as to what's going on here?

I never get anything this random in my own games, probably because many moves before the game has a chance to get interesting I've already offered a draw. Perhaps I should try to play on just a little longer!

Winning with the cat

My two obsessions are chess and cats: one can compare them in any number of ways, but both are cerebral and both, perhaps for that reason, defeat me utterly. To be in the presence of a cat is to be made aware of your own limitations, much as it is in the presence of the board and pieces. Cats have no masters and neither shall I ever master chess, though I can watch either for hours without getting bored. They are perfectly balanced: they are without flaw.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety

thus wrote Shakespeare of Cleopatra. Queen of Egypt, where they worshipped cats. I use the quote often, to explain what I feel about cats: it will serve just as well for chess, for that matter, as never does the game become too familiar or lose its fascination.

Alekhine was a cat-lover too: not normally known for the admirable nature of his opinions, on this subject at least he showed excellent taste. Whether naming his cat Chess, as he did, was also a manifestation of that taste, I would not like to say (though I imagine it is possible that his missus, Grace Wishart, gave the cat that name). I don't know whether Chess had a fondness for knocking over the pieces on the chessboard, a facility much exhibited by my own cat, Ichy, who will leap up on the table and knock over pieces nine or ten times if necessary.

Normally, it is not, since after three or four attempts I give up and revert to a magnetic travel set. Alekhine's powers of recall were rather superior to mine: he would have had to have extraordinary powers of persuasion, too, to avoid losing his pieces to a determined cat.

I was thinking about this earlier, lying in bed (I'm not well at the moment) with Ichy sprawled across me and a copy of an Everyman book on the Catalan Opening, by Raetsky and Chetverik in my hand. It's not the only book I have on that opening, which I've been trying to play, on and off, for nearly a decade, with occasional success. My first was Angus Dunnington's Batsford effort, which I still quite like: it's not comprehensive, but it's intelligent and explanatory and that will do when starting out. I even remember buying it - in Blackwell's in Cardiff. Until recently I still had the receipt, since it was serving as a bookmark in the Dunnington volume: it was one of those receipts that doesn't just record the amount of money that you've paid but also identifies the item.

With a book, therefore, this would tend to be the title, insofar as you can get it all on the receipt. Unless you're going to have the widest receipts in the world, this can't always be done.

The names of racehorses are limited to eighteen letters (and spaces) to avoid similar problems, but the names of books are not. This particular machine had room for twenty, so that when the receipt was printed, it read:

WINNING WITH THE CAT

Short Draws: Problem Solved?

The Pro's have been polled, as have the chess public - in fact, twice. There's been long, well-researched articles - and recently after a certain last round, much disappointed talk.

The contentious issue that attracts such attention and debate is, of course, the number of short draws at the top tier of chess. So far, two main solutions have been proposed. One - a football scoring system of 3 points for a win, one for a draw, none for a loss - has yet to be tried out anywhere, as far as I know, and would surely lead to severely anti-meritocratic distributions of prize money, to bunny-bashing mad-hackers rather than refined perfectionists.

The other commonly-proposed solution - the Sofia Rule, that draw offers are only allowed late on in the game, when the arbiter agrees the position indeed is clearly drawn - has been tried out with some success. Although surely the reality is that at least some of the time, it has the dubious consequence of creating long and boring games, rather than short and boring games.

But, I myself have recently devised a third way to solve this problem, which I'm now going to share with you. Firstly, suppose the total playing time scheduled for a game is 7 hours - but, the players finish after 1 hour. Under my new rule, another game would then start, with swapped colours and a playing time of 6 hours. This would continue until a game with less time than half an hour each was reached. The final score of the days play would be fractional - so let's say you won one and drew one, you'd get 0.75, your opponent 0.25.

Aside from continuous intrigue for the spectators, my system will have numerous other advantages. For instance, draws agreed in advance - which they undoubtedly are under the current system - would now be utterly transparent and detectable, since no-one needs half an hour over 1. e4, or slows down to snails pace against their pals in dull positions. Also, a drawn position after move 15 can be agreed drawn, unlike under the Sofia rules - after which black gets rewarded with a game with white. And, drawing isn’t penalized harshly, unlike under the football score rules. And - so on.

Well, what do you think? Shall I email Kirsan now? He seems like a sensible chap...

Chess, Too Easy?

For those who find chess all too easy, for those bored of winning all their games in 15 moves, with only a minute taken from their clock (that pesky toilet break of course) and blindfolded - there's some good news of a fresh challenge in your lives, for some clever fellow has invented Three Dimensional Eight Level Chess. And if that's not enough added complexity to really get those little grey cells firing, he's introduced some extra pieces to get the hang of as well, like "The Mace", "The Rookbishop", "The Red Knight" and "The Grand Knight."

But even that's not all! For as far as I can judge from the picture, you will also need to be seven foot tall to play, no less. At least Andrew will be alright.

(Via Rocky Rook.)

If Science Says It . . .

Some good news for dedicated chess idiots like me from Kathy Sierra, via The Atomic Patzer: it's never too late to become a Grandmaster.

"How many people think they've missed their opportunity to be a musician, or an expert golfer, or even a chess grand master because they didn't start when they were young? Or because they simply lacked natural talent?" asks Kathy. "Those people are (mostly) wrong." And since she found this out via "some brain scientists," there's obviously not much room for doubt either.

(On the other hand, I recall being determined once to learn Salsa Dancing, since a girl I met on a train decided upon a lesson as a first date. One fractured toe and a Thursday night in Casualty later, I vowed never to return, and just stick to Chess Club the week after.)

Pop In To Popov's?

A new addition to the side-bar: Russian site SuperProblem, authored by problemist and study composer Grigori Popov. It deserves but also requires a note of explanation.

The site is a strange store of many remarkable chess problems and studies. Whilst some are contemporary by Popov himself - whom you might recall from this typical comedy classic - the site reaches much further back. In fact, the earliest puzzle I found so far (diagram right; click to enlarge) is from 1283, where it is black to play and mate.

Now, the site presents non-chess problems too; those of language. The confusingly translated note which accompanies the above position is also typical of the site: "In chess culture of a middle Ages the outstanding place was borrowed 'by the book of games' of the king Alfons Х Wise (1221-1284). In this book there were also chess problems - mansub. One of them."

But it would be a shame if that kind of obstacle - or the site's utterly opaque organisational principle - put you off. Whilst hardly encyclopaedic - the above has a even more ancient predecessor for instance - there are many gems here. I for one was pleased to discover the position on the left - where it's white to play and mate - as I believe Popov says it was composed by К. яниш in 1837, making it the first of its delightful kind; after which, others would quickly follow, of course.

At least we often do, when we think it's worth it.

Either/Or?

Martin emails this position from Karpov – Taimanov, Leningrad 1977. Taimanov, black, is to play - and described the key move he found to win in this position as "perhaps one of the most beautiful moves of my career."

"I wonder if Taimanov knew the Herlin problem?" asks Martin too - and it's a good question.

It also demonstrates the kind of either/or questions I'd been asking before - either Intrigue or Improvement, either Beauty or Bulldozers, or comparing Herlin with Taimanov, we might say either Comedy or Competitiveness - were wrongly phrased. There is no contradiction, unless we force one upon ourselves.

(Incidentally, here is the whole game. Which in turn, made me think of something else again.)

An Internet Parable

It is a well-known habit of bloggers to find out where their visitors arrive from. Often this reveals amusing search terms - witness The Kenilworthian's visitors looking for is sicilians part black? or panther attacks elephant, for instance.

Here at Streatham & Brixton Chess Club's weblog, we seem to be less vocabularious, with very few of our hits come from those looking for anything other than some combination of Brixton Streatham Chess Club - that, ninja club in croydon, surrey or something to do with certain famous blunders.


But, I did like this - a visitor from MSN Live, who got to us from a search for: Electric Chess Game Board with Playing Pieces that actually move on Board. This presumably implies levitating knights of course (or maybe some kind of trap door) as otherwise for instance here 1. Nf7 mate looks like it would get messy.

Pieces in electric motion around the board (like miniature trains around their tracks, up in a loft): a boyish wish, the opposite of Chess for Girls, something else unlikely to see reality. On the other hand, someone just invented Chess With Lazers, so who knows for sure? The internet promises everything, just keep on searching for that dream . . .

Pinch, Punch

White to play, and mate in 5.
(Théodore Herlin, La Régence 2nd prize, 1860.)

So, pretty much that was the warmest January in Europe on record. One morning of snow in London - but Dutch daffodils already up, and fires in Hungary. The ice skating looks over for another year - which for me is something I don't mind missing out upon; the inelegant sliding around by the rails, the tumbles in the rink's corners - while others gracefully show how it should be done.

Anyhow, chess. Have fun solving this witty one.

Anyone for Tennis? Wait, I mean Chess . . .

February tomorrow, and where we once sat with pints in hand, studying the 64 squares, will all be rubble and dust, torn up carpets and stripped walls, as our old venue makes way for new flats.

Which means we go from being a chess club in a pub, to a chess club in a tennis club: For I'm happy to announce our new venue is Woodfield Grove Tennis Club. It's well-known in local history as the place that Streathamites have been practicing their forehands and lobs and all those other things I can't do since 1924 - but, the venue was totally modernised in the late 90s thanks to lottery cash.

And you can find out more about our new place yourself on Tuesday 6th February, by coming along at 8.00pm to our inaugural club night for some of the usual fun. What else do you need to know? Ah, - just how to find us . . . and perhaps that we still have a licensed bar?

The Worst Move On The Board

Here's a new series - and anybody can take part. No matter how good, no matter how bad. We can't all of us play World Championship Quality Blunders, because we can't all of us play in the world championship. But anybody can play The Worst Move On The Board.

The criteria are simple. What we want are examples, from club play to world championship, of players playing absolutely the worst move they could possibly have found. Not just a bad move, not just a blunder. Not just an atrocious loss of material in a winning position, not even just allowing mate-in-one - if there were more than one move that would have allowed it. We want uniquely bad moves: moves of which it can be accurately said that "any other move would have been better". Hence they must fulfull one of the criteria 1 to 3:

1. They must allow the quickest possible forced mate when no other move would have allowed it ; or
2. They must be the only move allowing the opponent to force a win, when all other moves would retain the draw - or be the only move allowing to opponent to force a win, when all other moves would retain the win ; or
3. They must allow the maximum possible win of material - all other moves would either not lose material, or would lose less.

That sounds like it allows a lot of moves to qualify. But what makes it hard is the requirement that the move be uniquely bad in the position. We've all overlooked mates in one - but we've generally overlooked them rather than assisted in bringing them about. (Even Chigorin, against Steinitz, had several ways of permitting mate in two - I think I detect four others, not including the move played. Though not all possess quite the same elegance.) Normally we just play a move, not noticing the threat, like Bronstein's loss of a queen against Petrosian in Zurich. Much ore rarely do we play a move creating the threat where it did not exist before. There's usually a choice of equally disastrous blunders. It's much harder to find the absolute worst.

I hope we can find all sorts of Worst Possible Moves (not to be confused with Tim Krabbe's conception here at #334 - or, indeed, The Ultimate Blunder). All different kinds, as above, and at all different levels. (And if anybody can find an example from a computer, so much the better.)

But we'll start, I think, with somebody who was at least close to world championship class (that being the only sort of class he actually possesses) and who, for that matter, was at the time of his blunder, close to playing a match for the title. Talking of class, it has to be the classiest way to play the Worst Move On The Board: allowing an instant mate, a mate in one. Especially so, when it comes completely out of the blue.

Nigel Short has, I believe, only ever lost one game to Alexander Beliavsky - and he had to work hard to manage that. At Linares in 1992, in the course of a disastrous tournament in which he came last of the fourteen competitors, Short had had the better of a long game in the Four Knights' Opening when he reached the following position, after Black's 57...f7-f6+.


He has, I make it, five moves to choose from: not a huge selection, but even so he did well to choose the worst. It was the last move he was required, or able, to play.


There is an odd sequel, by the way. Ten years later, also in Linares (though not in the top tournament) Beliavsky had the white pieces against Leif Erlend Johanessen. Trying to win a queen ending, he found himself in the following position after 58...Qe4-b1. How is a draw to be avoided?


His solution was clever, neat, and instant. And unique: no other move would have lost so quickly. But also, not unique. Ten years after he himself had been the beneficiary, he became the benefactor in his turn. So, not just The Worst Move On The Board (which I invite you to find for yourselves). It was more than that. It was un hommage.

Benasque 2007

Further to my posting about this year's tournament in Benasque: I can now announce that the dates of the tournament are 5-14 July.

You can access information here: click on Entrar and then the PDF on the next page, though it looks unfinished to me. I know the complete entry form exists, because I've seen it - but at time of writing I can only detect the front page on the web.

I can't guarantee that enquiries in English will be correctly understood, so unless you're confident in your Spanish (which I'm not either, but I get by) it may be best at this stage to send them through me!

Third Chessabit Rapid, and Third Place

The Third Chessabit Rapid Tournament took place last Saturday at The Crosse Keys pub in central London. Three Streatham & Brixton Chess Club members took part - James, Adam W and myself. Once again big money prizes were on offer, and the first place worth £500 was split between Wood Green's Ali Kikoyo and previously unknown Venezuelan junior Felix Ynojosa. The full report is here - where you might note that a certain blogger was lucky enough to finish outright 3rd, meaning he took home £100 from the day. Some games of his are below, whilst on the right you'll find him in a photo with some of the other prize winners, and the organisers. He's the one on the left as you look at the photo, gaining in chins what he's losing in hair.

Competitor Nick Ward said this of the event: "I would definitely recommend the event, I liked the relaxed nature of the day and I had some good tactical rapid play games you only seem to get at an event like that one. Football in the interim was also an added bonus" - and it's hard to find anyone disagreeing with that kind of sentiment. Meanwhile the Chessabit website reports that: "We registered the highest attendance to date (77 players), but still everything went smooth; the venue staff operated really well this time, there were no agitators amongst the players and everybody had fun, even the organizers."

The next event is, I believe, planned for March. See you there?

Double White to play and win

One very easy and one very difficult “White to play and win” problem, both from the same game.

We all kick ourselves when we miss forced wins in games we drew or lost. However, rather than this happening to me, it happened to my opponent, after I had put in an unconvincing performance against Atheneum.
As Black in the position below, I'd played 35. … Qe5-e3 hitting the rook on d2, and if 36. Bf6 then 36. … Qxf4+.

But how could White have won straight away?

My opponent, with only a couple of minutes to make the final move before the time control, missed this opportunity, and instead there followed 36. Rc2 Ne1 37. Ra2 c3.

Now White has another, far more difficult, forced win. Can you find that one? The second move is the hardest.

My opponent didn’t, and the game ended with 38. Ra8 Nf3+ 39. gxf3 Qf2+ and a perpetual.

Lucky me!!

Beauty, sans Truth?

Deschapelles - Labourdonnais, Paris 1820. White to play and mate.

Were I to run a Quote For The Week spot on the blog, this one from George Walker would certainly feature at some point:

M. Deschapelles is the greatest chess player in France; M. Deschapelles is the greatest whist player in France; M. Deschapelles is the greatest billiards player in France; M. Deschapelles is the greatest pumpkin-grower in France; M. Deschapelles is the greatest liar in France.

One should perhaps bear that in mind when looking at the improbable position above - where it is white - Deschapelles - to play & win, against Labourdonnais, Paris 1820. On the other hand, a quote from the same writer suggests an alternative explanation:

he [Deschapelles] suddenly walked into the Paris Chess Club; and, without the slightest preparation, sat down to play with M. de la Bourdonnais, at that curious variety of chess known as "the game of the pawns", in which the one player removes his queen, and is allowed, instead, a certain number of extra pawns. Deschapelles and De la Bourdonnais played four games at this sitting, even, -- that is to say, eight pawns being allowed alternately for the queen.

Who knows? But enjoy finding the beautiful finish of this remarkable puzzle, all the same.

(Via a forum thread of Chessworld's papadoble with thanks.)

Match of the Season, Game of the Season?

Crystal-ball gazers had long looked to the 22nd January 2007 as a crunch date for the fate of Streatham & Brixton Chess Club's first team in the London League Division 1. The match scheduled for then against Athenaeum, half way through the season, had the potential define the year: a loss and we might be dragged back into a relegation dog-fight, like last year. A draw would be alright - but a win and safety would suddenly really be in sight.

Prophets, however, will have to wait a little longer to know the match result for sure. The good news is that it currently stands at 6-4 to us, with two adjournments. Even better, with Sue looking like she has at least a draw, and Toby's position completely unclear, the odds for a win are currently stacked somewhat in our favour too. Fingers crossed.

In spite of two defaults (one a piece) the match itself saw numerous interesting games, from the chaos caused by Adam FF's Benko, to two nearly won but eventually drawn bishop endgames for Andrew and Steve, to the stunning blunder my opponent blessed our game with, to Robert cruising his way to a won Grunfeld endgame, having barely left his own half of the board. But the best game - and perhaps game of the season already, speculated Martin - was undoubtedly the following effort by Jeremy on board 2. Playing black, he unleased straight out of the opening a swift and decisive sacrificial attack.

World Championship Quality Blunders V

Chigorin – Steinitz 1892 (game 23)

Today we join Chigorin and Steinitz at a crucial moment in their second match. Three years earlier Steinitz had won their initial encounter 10-6 but this time it was much more even.

Chigorin (White, to play) is 9–8 down but a piece up and winning easily here. Victory will go to the first to 10 games but a match score of 9-9 will lead to a period of ‘extra time’ extending the match to first to twelve wins.

Happily for us, Chiggy now came up with the greatest blunder of all time.

32. Bb4 ?? (the simple Rxb7 wins)

to which Steinitz responded,

32 … Rxh2 +

At a stroke Chigorin had got himself mated and was forced to resign not only the game but the match too.

How to account for such a move? A little earlier in the game Steinitz had sacrificed a piece but didn’t get anywhere near enough for it. In fact his compensation is a single threat – but no worries there because Chigorin has h2 covered with his Bishop on d6.

Doh!

There is real drama – tragedy even – in this position. Chigorin must have expected Steinitz to play

32. … Rxb2

when

33. Nf4 more or less forces off a pair of rooks and makes the win simple.

I can just hear Chigorin thinking “Bb4 and the game’s over” as he picked up his Bishop - and so it was, just not quite as he intended.

Regular readers of these posts, if such people exist, might have noticed this entry has not suffered from my normal complete inability to publish on time. Indeed, it was only a couple of days ago that WCQB IV saw the light of day. There is a reason for my uncharacteristic industry.

Chigorin died exactly 99 years ago today. I would like to propose that henceforth January 25th be known as “Chigorin Day” as we all take a moment to remember the man who should really be recognised as the patron saint of chess players.

After all, next time you miss a simple tactic, overlook a trivial win or even tossed your Queen away, what’s the worst that has can have happened? OK, you might have lost a few rating points, perhaps caused your team to lose a crucial match or missed out on some prize money.

No matter. On the way to the pub you can console yourself with the thought that at least you didn’t blow the World Championship in a single move.


Happy Chigorin Day!



Impact on the Game: 5/5
Impact on the Match: 4/5
Degree of Difficulty: 5/5
Artistic Impression: 5 /5

which leads to an Ultimate Blunder Rating of 19/20. Truly this was the ultimate Ultimate World Championship Blunder. We shall never see its like again.


Next time … bet you can't guess this one Justin ;-)

Ah....Vienna

So, how did the six-month chess drought end?

It ended with a crushing win on Sunday on the Black side of a Vienna Game, playing top board for Casino Jaque of Huesca against SMS Barbastro in the semi-final of the Copa Delegación. To be honest, I suspect that "semi-final" may be a polite way of saying that only four teams take part, Alto Aragón being a relatively remote region with few towns of any size (think North Wales, perhaps) though some places are more remote than others.

Chess has a rather higher profile in Spain than it does in England, something which may be attributable to a general willingness to regard it as a sport: hence it gets its section in the Deportes section of the local paper, Diario del AltoAragón. The nature of local papers doesn't hurt, either: they're a lot closer to proper journalism than almost anything you'll see in a local paper in England.

Anyway, when was the last time Streatham and Brixton match even made the results section of a local paper? Let alone a full report with photo (curiously enough featuring the gentleman who submitted the report*, a local FM who I shall be playing in the final) and even a report of the game itself:

El primer tablero fue el más rápido en terminar, con victoria de Justin Horton sobre Marcos Sig, que jugó la apertura de alfil de Rey pero enseguida se quedó peor, rematando con un fallo que le costó una pieza.

Go on, practice your Spanish.



[* = Subsequent note: in fact the print edition has three photos, including one of myself, and a much longer report! You don't get this in the South London Press...]

Can't play with 'em, can't play without 'em...

I'll be getting back to you in due course about my poser involving an email chess game and the preferred move of the computer. Contributions to the comments box on that post are still welcome: in the mean time, it may help illustrate my theme if we look at a completed game, Rasstrigin-Horton, also played under the aegis of the IECG.



What makes this game interesting (apart from any intrinsic merit, and it was an exciting game) from the immediate point of view is that until move thirty, I was playing without a computer. The game began just after I moved to Spain, at about the time I learned that I was too late to register for any local chess in 2006 and would therefore have to kick my heels until the following January. So I registered for some email games - and this one lasted almost nine months. However, it was not until five of those months had elapsed that I was able to get Rybka installed, and my play before then tends to show it: missing the knight-and-queen manoeuvre that allows the capture on b7, then fumbling away a pawn shortly afterwards. Meanwhile, after the b7 capture my opponent's move coincides with the computer's choice on almost every occasion.

This was obvious to me even before I was able to get in Rybka and check it for myself, since White's whole approach, after going a pawn up, is very computer-like: sit on the material, start pushing pawns forward, it doesn't matter if your pieces are a little out of play. Which gave me some hope - as long as White continued to play like that, perhaps I would get time to move my pieces over to the kingside while White was fiddling elsewhere.

So I gave up a second pawn on a6 to get the knight out of the way, threw my remaining pawns at his king and prayed that just over the horizon, something would come up: and also that he would continue to follow the computer, hanging on to all his material advantage and not find some way of giving some of it back to exchange off material, then race the pawns home. (I've not looked at it recently, but it's hard to believe that White couldn't have cashed his winnings in at some time by capturing on c7, with three passed pawns easily compensating for a piece.)

So this is the position after Black's 31st move, to put it in the traditional manner - or the position in which Black got hold of a computer program, to put it in a manner both more modern and more pertinent. As it happens, this is also the point at which the evaluations started changing, and once a move or two were entered, White's advantage, having previously been over 1.00 (indeed, well over) suddenly dwindled to nothing.

An exposed king, chased by the heavy pieces, Black's bishop far better placed to join in than the knight - that's fine compensation for two pawns or even three.

After this point, while I was checking everything with the computer, I did not always play the preferred move, at least once choosing instead to throw more material on the fire in order to open lines (e.g. 38...e4 instead of a recapture on g2). I didn't win in the end - my king was probably too open itself to let that happen - but I got to force the draw, and to choose the moment when that happened. (What draw, you ask? Well, I'll let you or your computer find it. As it goes, the computer prefers not to force the draw and opts, instead of 43...Rg5, for 43...Qb2+ 44.Ra5 Qc3+. But I judged, rightly or wrongly, that the resulting ending, which the computer prefers for Black, is probably unwinnable - and potentially more risky for Black than White.)

What's the moral? The moral isn't that you can give the computer user a couple of pawns start and still outplay them. Not really. For a start, I could never have played the last dozen moves without a great deal of computer help - give it a go yourself and see how you get on. (34...Rf7 in particular would have been very hard to see, and the consequences of any given line were lost to me without computer help). Moreover, I would have been better placed in the first instance if I'd had a computer and my tactical shortcomings had not forced me to gamble that my opponent would look at the computer evaluations rather than the board. (Could he really not have taken on c7 at some point before I got organised on the kingside?)

Nevertheless, the game does show what happens if you do rely on the computer. An enormous points advantage can disappear, in a wild position, just like that. We know, playing OTB, that we should be cautious when winning, consolidate our advantages, be prepared to give back some material and avoid complications if we can. The odd thing is, we do that because we're worried about our human weaknesses. The possibility of blundering, of getting nervous and so on.

Yet playing with a computer program, it's the weaknesses of the machine which ironically make the same demands on us. Left to itself, it won't consolidate - won't cut down its arithmetical advantage in order to cut down on the risk of encountering the unexpected. Computers are supposed to be very good at winning won games. Perhaps it isn't necessarily so. We need to help them.

It's also supposed to be true, these days, that computers don't just grab material and don't underestimate the possibility of compensation. I am not sure, having played this game, that I believe this is true. I think it's quite possible that if a computer evaluation shows compensation that is substantial but inadequate - for instance, with a material advantage of 2.00 it shows an evaluation of something like 0.95 - then in fact the compensation may be rather greater than the computer thinks. Go for the line - which you never would if an equal-material position was assessed at 0.95 to the other side.

Which suggests, in its turn, that a possible strategy for playing a computer may entail a preparedness to sacrifice material where the computer's assessment fits that pattern. Where you would feel good about it over the board but are wary of the computer thinking it doesn't quite work. Be confident, because it may well be that your gut feeling is a better guide than the calculations of the computer.

It also goes, almost without saying, that the same is true when you are playing correspondence chess against people who will almost always follow their computer's advice.

Second Team - Update!

Having played five games for our First Team this season, I'm no longer eligible for Second Team matches in Division 3 of the London League - but it looks like my old team mates aren't exactly missing me. The score from the match against Wanstead 2 on the 15th January currently stands at 5-4 to us - with Dave V's oustanding adjournment looking good enough for at least a draw. This edges us to third in the League Table. But with Metropolitan having not played many of the stronger sides, and with so many closely-matched teams half a point behind us - the rest of the season could just about see anything happen, either way.

Talking about seeing anything happen, below you will find Adam W's win from the night on board 2 playing as black. By move 21, his opponent Steven Gilmour had built up a dominating position with the white pieces - and yet seven moves later had to resign after a sacrificial, mating attack sprang out from nowhere. In fact, Adam notes that 21. d5 was too hurried, also writing of move 23 that: "After a long think I decided that 'remplacer pour mieux sauter' was the best plan - better to admit my earlier mistakes and give up the pawn to gain time to target e3." It certainly worked, and the finish is pleasingly reminiscent of Kasparov-Karpov Seville 1987, game 1 - not often you get to say that!

Good luck for the rest of the season, everybody.

World Championship Quality Blunders IV

Alekhine – Euwe 1937 (game 16)

Today’s game is, I believe, unique in the history of World Championship chess.

It’s Euwe to play his 25th move. Earlier in the game he’d sacrificed a pawn for the Bishop pair and an initiative. Immediately before the position above, he’d exchanged Rooks on c1 and brought his Queen to the centre of the board. Alekhine responded by retreating his Knight from e4-c3 to chase it away.

So it’s Black to play and lose.

25. … Qe5?

“An elementary oversight. Correct was 25. … Qc6!” [CJS Purdy – “Extreme Chess”]. You may want to pause here and consider how White should respond. The correct response is most definitely not ...

26. Bb2 ?? Bc6 ???

27. a3 ????

and finally after

27. … Bd6

“The nightmare is over” [Purdy again] and the game eventually ended in a drawn on move 65.


In case you hadn’t already noticed, once Black plays his Queen to e5 White wins with the simple 3-move sequence Qh8+!, Nxf7+ and Nxe5.


Although it’s remarkable that Alekhine and Euwe between them had four bites at the cherry and still managed to miss this line, it can’t be said that these blunders affected the result of the match too much. Alekhine was already 3 games ahead and huge favourite to regain his crown. Missing this win only reduced the margin of victory. Indeed, his domination over Euwe was such that the latter only won one more meaningful game (although he did win the last two long after the match was already decided in Alekhine’s favour).

Similarly, like last time, the blunders cancel each other out and thus the realistic assessment at our start and end point remains “probably drawn”.

Although there’s a certain beauty in a double tandem blunder – and a bonus point under Artistic Merit is in order for this being the only such specimen so far (as far as I’ve found anyway) - my real interest in this game its applicability to me as an average club player.

I believe it was John Nunn who coined the phrase, “Loose Pieces Drop Off”. I’ve found this to be a very useful truism when trying to avoid blunders in my own games. Similarly, when looking to take advantage of an opponent’s position, it makes sense to keep an eye out for pieces that are not defended and thus vulnerable to tactical sequences.

Incidentally, Purdy’s advice is, “To avoid such slips, a player should look at ALL checks.” [his emphasis]

Armed with these pieces of advice, even a mediocre hacker such as myself should find it a trivial matter to avoid missing such sequences.


Impact on the Game: 3/5
Impact on the Match: 0/5
Degree of Difficulty: 4.5/5
Artistic Impression: 4.5 /5

which leads to an Ultimate Blunder Rating of 12/20 and a well deserved first place on the leader board. It won’t last.


Next time ... The Greatest?

Chess Adventures: On & Off the Board . . .

Normally to spice up match reports on the blog, I add an interesting diagram or two from the evening. Or maybe even a game, if one was intriguing or amusing or impressive enough.

But, from Streatham & Brixton Chess Club's match away to Surbiton on the 17th in the Surrey League (which we look odds on to win via the adjournments, btw) Angus sends me the story of a different adventure - this time off the board and late night after the match. Here's the tale:

"I dropped Adam off after last night’s match - against Surbiton in the Surrey League - and then drove home. There, I opened the back door of my car to get to my jacket - which contained all my other keys.

Only: My jacket wasn’t there... Was it in the boot? I didn’t remember putting it in the boot and my bag was on the back seat – I doubt that I’d have put the two in different places. Could I have left my jacket at the chess venue? I doubted that too. Without my jacket, I’d have felt the cold and rain when we left the match venue.

There was, however, a garment on the back seat which I’d grabbed at first, thinking it was my coat. It didn’t feel like my coat. It wasn’t my coat. It wasn’t mine. Adam’s. So I sped back to where I’d dropped Adam off.

Not there.

What now?

I remembered I had a club membership list in my bag. I knew Adam was listed but that the address recorded for him was old. Still, there might be telephone number and so there was…. I don’t have a mobile phone (and never have had; I don’t like them) but that was OK. It shouldn’t be difficult to find a telephone box. It wasn’t. But how would I pay for a call? My money was in my jacket, wasn’t it? Luckily I had change in my trouser pocket… In the dark of the telephone box I proffered a 20p piece and dialled Adam’s number… nothing… I tried dialling again… Still nothing… What now?... I realised that the telephone also took credit cards and that I also had my credit card wallet in my trouser pocket… I swiped a card and dialled a number. It rang. Success!... But no; my call met an answerphone…

Grrrr.

Why isn’t he receiving calls, I wondered?... I left a message: “If you receive this Adam, please can you meet me where I dropped you off?” (Maybe I was less polite)… I drove back again to where I’d left Adam and waited a bit but to no avail... What now? It began to dawn on me that, as I wouldn’t be able to get into my flat, I might have to find somewhere to sleep the night…

I know: I can go to Adam’s old address and see if I can get someone to give me Adam’s new address. Once there, I rang the bell and it was answered, thank goodness. I explained that I was a friend of Adam’s and what had happened. But:

“Might you have Adam’s new address?”

“I’m afraid not”.

Still, there was my brother. Maybe he could put me up. Maybe, even, he had a set of keys to my flat though I doubted that he did… My brother lives in the same block of flats as I do. I drove back. Someone entered the block just ahead of me and let me in. I knocked on my brother’s door. No answer. I shouted through the letter box. No answer. I increased the volume of my shout. Still no answer.

Now what?

I knocked at the door of friendly neighbours. Fortunately John answered. I explained to him what had happened and asked if I could borrow his phone. Yes, I could. I tried calling Adam’s number but again I met an answerphone. Now what?... My last chance was to call Martin and see if he had any contact details for Adam different from the ones which I had… The address Martin had for Adam was the same as the one I had. Martin also had a mobile number for Adam.

Wasn’t that going to be the same as the one I’d already tried twice?

No it wasn’t!

I dialled the new number and Adam answered…. Phew! I was extremely relieved…We agreed to meet. We met, but Adam didn’t bring my jacket. Rather he had another coat to exchange for his coat. Dread descended. Was it possible that Adam didn’t have my jacket after all? He went back to his house to check… And, at last, there it was.

And the result of the match? We’re 3 – 2 up (wins for Peter and Robin; draws for Alan and Richard) with three games outstanding. David looks to have a win as he’s piece up with, to my eyes [it's actually 4-2 now, David won - TC], no apparent compensation for his opponent; Martin has two rooks for a queen and a fiendish threat - which looks very difficult to meet - to win queen for rook; and I have a draw in hand… We’re going to win. And that will take us to four points from five matches. Not bad."

The things we do for chess . . .

Position : white to play and calculate

During my long chess-free period since Benasque last summer, I've spent a lot of time playing email chess which (as S&B members who attended a talk I once gave at the club will know) I don't really like that much. Nevertheless, it's what I've got - and since (thanks to Angus' generosity) I now have a chessplaying program, it means I don't lose every game I play. In fact, since acquiring the program I haven't lost a tournament game, which naturally makes one wonder what function the human player still has in correspondence chess.

It's a shame. I'm past forty now, the sort of age at which a player's OTB strength tends inevitably to decline - and I'd always envisaged myself turning to correspondence chess when that occurred. What point there is in that, is currently unclear: if, in ten years' time, we will all have access to programs which in a few minutes will produce moves of world champion class or better, then one suspects that the human elelment will be very small, since any intervention we make is likely to produce a worse move than the one which the computer proposed.

For the moment, though, this is not quite true. While one can very well mess up the game by deviating from the computer's preferred choice, one can also work in a number of ways, both with and without the computer, either ignoring it (for a while) so as not to be overinfluenced by its preferences, or understanding its strengths and deficiencies in order to direct its thoughts to lines which it had neglected or misunderstood.

I don't pretend to be any sort of expert on the subject: anyone looking for well-informed commentary could do worse than try Robin Smith's Modern Chess Analysis, which deals at some depth with the various strengths and weaknesses of computer progams. (There is, by the way, a copy at the Barbican Library, which I would very strongly recommend that anybody living in London take the trouble to join. It is absolutely - a qualified librarian writes - the best public library I have ever been in.)

What I propose to begin here, in my best reasonably-informed-layman-and-amateur kind of way, is a discussion which will hopefully illustrate some of the potential ways in which computers either still fail at correspondence chess, or in which they succeed only with human help. I'll start with a position in an ongoing game from the International Email Chess Group: the game is now well past the diagram position.

What I'd like people to do, rather than give any suggestions of their own, is simply say what their computer wants to play as White. Without making any suggestions to the computer - don't put in a move to see what changes! We're asking what would happen if we relied purely on the computer. If you can give more detail, excellent: i.e. if the preferred move changed after x ply, the program's second and third choices, what program you used.

After we've had a few responses I'll come back to the position and explain what actually happened and why: and we'll see if the human element was actually helpful or not. So - suggestions please!

[A note to anybody who has not previously left a comment on here and is unsure of the procedure: don't be put off by the stuff about Blogger accounts and so on. You do not need to have one - just enter yourself as an anonymous user and leave your name, if you wish, as part of the comment. ]

Chess: The Musical . . . featuring, Chess!

I have a confession to make: it would take rather a lot to get me to go see a musical. However, I've always thought that for obvious reasons, I'd make an exception for Chess: The Musical. Especially, as it turns out, for the upcoming production at the Electric Theatre. Why so? I hear you ask.

Because, Guildford Chess Club - our competitors from the Surrey League - are not only helping with the production, but taking on the audience in the foyer for an hour and a half before each performance! Mike Adams, their Club Secretary, explains more:

"Guildford Chess Club and GSA Conservatoire have teamed up in a unique collaboration for a new production of Chess at the Electric Theatre, opening on 8 February. The musical written by Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus [of Abba fame] and Tim Rice [Evita, Jesus Christ Superstar, Lion King etc], is regarded as ‘one of the best theatrical compositions ever written’ and features the story of a world championship chess match between the Americans and the Russians. Set during the end of the cold war in the 1970’s a romantic triangle develops when an American chess champion defends his title against a Russian opponent who secretly plans to defect to the West.

"The psychological battles between the protagonists are played out as much off the chess board as in the games. Although written over 20 years ago, the musical is prescient of recent events - only two months ago the latest world championship match had to be suspended for several days and drew international headlines over allegations of cheating because one player was making frequent trips to the bathroom.

"GSA, whose graduates can be found performing throughout the West End, internationally and in TV and film are delighted to be working alongside local chess champions to add to the realism of this production. Guildford Chess Club, (part of the town since 1896), will playing in the foyer each evening from 6pm prior to curtain up at 7.30pm. Theatre goers will be able to try their skill and learn more about the game through free coaching. The club is also providing props and technical advice for the production. And win or lose, everyone will come away having been entertained by those wonderful songs."

A few more details you might want: this production runs from 8th – 15th February at the Electric Theatre in Guildford. The box office number is 01483 444789. And there's a £2 discount off the normal ticket price of £10 if you quote "Chess Club Offer," to boot!

See you in the foyer?

Back in the pavilion

According to the Wijk Aan Zee website:

Due to the extreme weather conditions in Wijk aan Zee, the commentary session in the Corus Chess pavilion is cancelled today.

How odd. When I used to play cricket the pavilion used to be where you went to get away from the weather.

Opening surprise

The Streatham and Brixton season may be halfway through, but mine is about to begin, with a game on Sunday. Which means I have to think all the thoughts about my opening repertoire that I should have been thinking over the last six chess-free months. But I've never been able to work properly without the pressure of a deadline and this applies as much to opening preparation as to anything else. You never have to get it done - it can always be put off for another game or another month or another season - so I never really get it done. Not properly. I read, or flick through books, I make decisions that I promptly change the following day and then change back just as swiftly once I remember all the reasons for the original decision.

What to play against 1.d4, if White doesn't allow the Nimzo? For years, now, I've been pondering whether to play the Queen's Indian Defence. The Benoni? Too risky. The Bogo? Not quite good enough. The QGD? Too hard to generate counterplay. The Semi-Slav? Bg5 is a pain. Yet at one time or another, I've "decided" I would play all of these. I have books on all of them. I have four books on the Queen's Indian Defence.

The best of these is probably the most recent, Peter Wells' volume in the optimistically-entitled series Chess Explained. Still, if the series title is misleading, the writing is not: Wells, who has written some justly-praised guides in the past, has produced another good one. Good enough, I hope, for me to use it as the launch-pad for a new opening experiment. At least until until I decide it's too theoretical, too passive, unsuitable for email chess, unsuitable for use against weaker players, unsuitable for use against stronger players, unsuitable because of various move-order issues arising from 1.c4 or 1.d4 - or because I play a couple of games with it, get beat and give it up as a result.

(I have, as I recall, played it before - but only once in an OTB game. I won. I gave it up nevertheless. Now that's what I call unreasonably high expectations.)

The other books I have on the Queen's Indian were written by Bogdan Lalic - always an author I like, as our styles are similarly dull - by Yrjölä and Tella and by Jacob Aagaard.

Aagaard has written some good books, but his Everyman Queen's Indian Defence is some way short of classic (although not down to the level of some books produced by that publishing house: the absence of effective proof-reading is unfortunately all too manifest in all too many of them). Still, it's workable enough, or so I thought after buying it - and I read it pretty thoroughly, by my standards, anyway, in the lead-up to a tournament I played in Oban, in the west of Scotland, in November 2004. (It was the second time I'd played that tournament: the first time, I played on top board in the final round, lost and won nothing, although my game subsequently featured in the Telegraph chess column.)

Travelling to Oban entailed a flight to Prestwick, a train journey into Glasgow and then another, slow but spectacular, up into the mountains to the north and then a final descent towards the coastal town. I read Aagaard's book for most of the journey and in my hotel room afterwards (and would probably have read it between the station and the hotel, had not my mobile rung, leading to a long conversation with a tearful friend about the sudden death of her cat). I was satisfied with my work and resolved that, if I drew the Black pieces in my opening game and my opponent gave me the opportunity, I would give it a try.

So off I went to the tournament hall, in the hotel where I was staying, to look up the draw. My name was on the right hand side: I did, indeed have the Black pieces. Top board, too. I looked to see who I was drawn against. My opponent was International Master Jacob Aagaard.

Your Diaries, Please . . . .

Some upcoming events, ranging from this Saturday in London to July in Spain.

First off, it's another big-money, under 175ECF, one-day rapidplay, courtesy of Chessabit: £500 for the winner, and eight games in one day, this Saturday 20th January, at The Crosse Keys pub in central London. You can find out about past Chessabit events from our previous posts, incidentally, and it's not too late to enter for this event.

Or if you fancy something at a slower pace, then consider The First Brentwood International Chess Congress, held 17th - 18th February. One particularly strong player you might have heard of has already entered the Open. He's pictured . . . but if you need a clue, well: he drew against Kramnik two days ago in Corus! (Incidentally, on the subject of Corus, I really recommend the outstanding coverage at Chessvibes.)

The most recent Surrey Rapid on 7th January also saw some big name titled players turn out, with IM Michael Basman winning the event on 5/6, and GM Alexander Cherniaev coming mid-table with a score of 3/6. The next Surrey Rapid event is on the 11th March, and the entry form is here (PDF file.) There are three other sections below the Open, and once again the excellent "4½ point rule" will apply: "A score of 4½ or more out of 6 is GUARANTEED A PRIZE, even if this means that extra prizes are awarded."

Or if you fancy taking a pop at a Grandmaster in somewhat more favourable circumstances, then Imperial have just announced that "next Monday, the 22nd of January, 2007, has been named as the date for this year's Mestel Challenge, where Dr. Jonathan Mestel, a Grandmaster who has won three British Chess Championships spanning twelve years as well as the 1997 World Puzzle Solving Championships, will be taking on the rest of Imperial College London in a gigantic simultaneous matchup!" But non-members of their club can pay £5 on the night to join in as well. Alas, this clashes with Streatham & Brixton Chess Club's first team London League Division 1 match against Athenaeum - otherwise I'd say, see you there.

Finally, just a reminder of Justin's invitation out to Spain in probably July. Andrew's considering going, and so am I. Anyone else . . . ?

Beauty & The Bulldozer

"This puzzle is brilliant," writes Patrick - and I agree so much I'm posting this position from Koskinen-Kasman, Helsinki 1967, here too. And having checked the answer with Spike - which bulldozed its way to the answer in under a second - I will phrase it like this:

Black to play and mate in four.

The position also reminded me of this discussion. Do we really solve such things for our betterment, so our play becomes closer and closer to that of the brutal, soulless machine? (Or do you think I am posting it here instead for something like beauty's sake?)