In praise of the Czech Benoni

One 2750-GM uses it as a term of abuse. Most of the others never play it. The one strong English GM who ever played it regularly lost virtually every game with it. And I myself have only ever played it once in a serious game. Yet I have always had a soft spot for it.

I refer to the so-called Czech Benoni: 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 c5 3.d5 e5 4.Nc3 d6 5.e4 Be7.

The line acquired its name after being developed and played a lot in the late 1960s by various Czech GMs, such as Hort, Jansa, Kavalek, etc. If you look at the early volumes of Informator, you will find quite a lot of games with it, and it was quite popular around the period 1968-72. But then it sunk back into relative oblivion, from which it has never fully recovered.

It is not everyone's cup of tea, of course - a blocked position, with less space, dreadful-looking bishop on e7, etc. Indeed, England no. 1 Mickey Adams is wont to say "It looks a bit Czech Benoni to me!", about any position that he doesn't think much of. One player who did make a determined attempt to revive the line was Tony Miles, always a connoisseur of offbeat and disreputable openings. He played it a number of times in the period 1986-90, but lost almost every time. After that, he dropped it for a while, before wheeling it out against Lautier in 1994. After getting another whopping, Miles quipped in the post-mortem that "I only play it once every four years or so, because it takes me that long to forget how bad it is!".

One player who did use it with great success was Bill Hartston, which probably explains my own fondness for it. The first chess magazines I ever saw were in 1973, when Hartston won the first of his two British Championships, and was clearly our number one player. He wrote an excellent chapter on it in his book on the Benoni.

Bill Hartston, apparently undecided on which colour to play (photo: tvcream.co.uk)

Is it so bad? I don't really think so. Black avoids exchanges, keeps a solid structure, and has various plans to untangle his pieces - Ne8, Bg5 (to exchange off the bad bishop), g6-Ng7 and organising f7-f5, possibly the queenside break b7-b5, etc. As I say, it is not everybody's cup of tea, but those who like long manoeuvering positions and a lack of hard theory, should find something to their taste here. At least it is not the sort of position that a computer can analyse out to a forced draw.

So, if I am so fond of it, how come I only ever played it once? I really don't know. It's not as if I lost - on the contrary, I won a model game from Black's viewpoint, eventually exchanging off all the bits, to reach a good knight v bad bishop ending, which the adjudicator settled in my favour (I'm sure I would have found the winning plan anyway...). But I never returned to it. Cynics would say I did well to quit while I was ahead. I'm not so sure.

Here's an example of what it can look like on a good day. The notes are from Megabase, where they are attributed to Hartston/Littlewood. I presume that is John Littlewood, although it is not made explicit.

Termitewatch (28) - It's all Keene's fault!

The capacity of the termites to blame Ray Keene for all the ills of the world is a credit to conspiracy theorists all round the globe. The latest classic comes from "Sir" Roger de Coverly, the Egregious Chess Forum's most verbose poster, who has now blamed Ray Keene for all the quick draws in the Anand-Gelfand match! Apparently, he copied the style from Petrosian, and that infected others, and led to the custom of quick draws being accepted. Quod erat demonstrandum, as they say over on princecharlesblewupthetwintowers.com.

Sir Roger also adds the now-obligatory codicil to the effect that of course, "Saint Tony of Miles" was not guilty of such hideous practices. The mental process (to the extent that it can be so dignified...) in this reasoning is that Miles hated Keene, Keene is the Anti-Christ, ergo, Tony must have been the Archangel Gabriel in human form. "Tony Miles was more unwilling to take the early draw than Keene or Hartston", quoth Sir Roger.

Yeah, right. That must explain the following masterpiece:

Miles - Christiansen, San Francisco 1987

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Nxe5 d6 4. Nf3 Nxe4 5. Nc3 Bf5

6. Nxe4 Bxe4 7. d3 Bg6 8.Bg5 Be7 9. Bxe7 Qxe7+ 10. Be2 Nc6 11. O-O O-O 12. Re1 Rae8 13. Qd2 Ne5 14. d4 Nxf3+ 15. Bxf3 Qd7 16. c3 b6 17. Rxe8 Rxe8 18. Re1 Rxe1+ 19. Qxe1 Kf8 20. g3
1/2-1/2

Truly a battle to stir the blood.

"But wait a minute", I hear you say. "That diagram position looks a bit familiar! Why doesn't 6.Qe2 win a piece in this position?"

The answer is that it does, as Anand found out, when he subsequently repeated Black's first five moves, against Zapata, at Biel 1988. Zapata indeed played 6.Qe2, whereupon Anand resigned. So why didn't Miles play it?

The explanation, of course, is that Tony, being "more unwilling to take the early draw than Keene and Hartston", had already pre-arranged a draw in the game in question! He was sufficient of a gentleman to keep his word, and although he saw 6.Qe2, he did not play it. He did have a bit of fun, first, however - apparently, he begun ostentatiously "polishing" the e2 square with his forefinger, and smiling at the initially bemused Christiansen, until the awful truth finally dawned on the latter. Larry C then turned bright red, whereupon Tony played 6.Nxe4 and the draw was soon agreed.

So, there we have it. No hint of Tony taking early draws. Only nasty Ray Keene would do a thing like that. By the same token, Tony would never agree to share money with someone, in return for supporting that person's claim to have worked as Tony's second at an Interzonal, would he? But that is a story to which we must return, when the libel laws permit.

In the meantime, I am still trying to work out how Ray Keene organising all these quick draws in Moscow is the result of the ECF's compulsory membership scheme. It must be the case, because everything Sir R de C posts on the Forum has something to do with the ECF compulsory membership scheme. It's just a matter of finding the connection. I'm none too good at these conspiracy theories, but I'll keep trying.

Sacs for show, endings for dough

"180s for show, doubles for dough!", as the TV darts commentators love to say, with all the profound solemnity for which they are noted. It is the same in chess. We all love to see slashing attacks, sacrifices and brilliancies, but it is sound positional play, defensive skill and endgame technique, which wins tournaments. In England, there is no better example than Keith Arkell, the Ulf Andersson of British chess, who will happily trade queens with any opponent, and then grind them into the dust.

The Grinder in action (photo: en.wikipedia.org)

A fine recent example which caught my eye was the following, from the final round of the West of England Easter Congress. In bygone days, Black would probably have been robbed of half a point, by the intervention of that dread figure, the adjudicator, somewhere around move 40. Nowadays, however, they can run, but they can't hide - with nobody to save his bacon for him, the hapless white player is led inevitably to his Caissic doom.

Anand & Gelfand to fight out cheese-rolling world championship

"Shall we stop here and call it a draw?" (photo: teamsnap.com)

Memories of a friend

Much as I have enjoyed prodding the termites with my pointy stick over the past few days, it is time to move on, at least temporarily, to people and things that actually matter. I note that today is the third anniversary of the death of Dutch IM, Rob Hartoch. He became a friend of mine over the last few years of his life, which was a period when I played in many Dutch tournaments. By then, Rob's own playing career was in its twilight, and he would make draws with just about anybody who would accept them. The few who did not were usually GMs, ambitious for success in the tournament. Anybody else who declined Rob's early peace overtures was taking a big risk - he was among the most gifted youngsters of his generation, runner-up behind Kurajica (whom he defeated in the final round) in the 1965 World Junior Championships in Barcelona, a deep and classy player, with a great understanding of the game. Only his lack of ambition prevented him claiming the GM title and generally achieving more in the game.

Photo: Chessvibes

Rob was a typical gentle Dutch giant, his huge frame concealing a kind and friendly nature. For some 40 years, he was a fixture at Dutch tournaments, as player, commentator, junior trainer, arbiter, and general factotum. Like all Dutchmen, he spoke excellent English, and was great fun to listen to, especially in the evenings at tournaments. I spent quite a few hours in his company at the Hoogeveen tournament, where he was arbiter of the Open section. We stayed in the same accommodation (a nurses' home!), and would spend the evenings in the common room, Rob with a generous glass of whisky in his hand, looking at the odd game, and listening to his reminiscences.

A wise, kind and charming man, and a talented chessplayer, as the following victory over one of the game's legends shows (notes by Kharitonov, from Megabase).

PS.

Ray Keene has kindly shared some personal memories of Rob (inter alia, Ray played in the same 1965 World Junior Championship) and has also sent me the text of his fine obituary of Rob in The Times. One thing I did not mention was that Rob was also a soccer referee. I find it hard to picture his bulky frame covering the pitch at the required pace, but Ray reveals that Rob had a special technique - like any good chessplayer, he believed in "centralisation", and refereed the game by standing near the centre circle! His affable and easy-going nature is revealed by the fact that he claimed never to have given out a yellow or red card, preferring that such matters be resolved by talking! A really lovely guy. 

Termitewatch 27: "Let me at 'im, let me at 'im!"

What a glorious Sunday it has been, over on the Forum! The usual suspects have been vaulting over each other, in a bid each to outdo the other in the paroxysms of righteous indignation with which they have condemned me. But pride of place, as always, goes to our favourite retired copper, Ernie "Good Moaning" Lazenby. He would apparently like to get me "on (sic) a car-park" and punch my lights out. Fine words from a retired member of the Constabulary! Still, at least he managed to write "car park" with the c and the k the right way round; few who know him would have bet on that.

Ernie's fury is allegedly based on the fact that I "lack any understanding of the problems sufferers [of mental illness] have to deal with." Ernie, on the other hand, does; as he never tires of reminding us, he is bi-polar.

Sorry, Ernie, but as usual, you could not possibly be more wrong. I have been treated for clinical depression on at least two occasions in my life, at one point being off work for several weeks with it. I know exactly what depression entails. However, unlike some, I have not used it as an excuse to accuse NHS professionals of criminal abuse of patients, nor as an excuse to brand legitimate businesses as "swindles" or their proprietors as "spivs". Nor do I go round on public forums, threatening others with physical violence.

No, I have a much more effective way to cope with my depression. Every time I feel one coming on, I post something on my blog, and then sit back and spend the next 24 hours laughing my rocks off, watching McClown, Lazenby and the rest of the cretins foaming at the mouth about it! It never fails. It's a pity the NHS can't bottle the experience - they could save a fortune on anti-depressants.

Nimzoindian fireworks

Anand and Gelfand notwithstanding, the Nimzoindian is not always a boring draw. The following is a spectacular example of what consenting grandmasters can get up to in this opening. The game is taken from Afek and Neiman's award-winning book, Invisible Chess Moves, which will be reviewed more fully here next week.

Termitewatch (26): Dignified?

As expected, my previous blog post has got the termites squawking. Our favourite biographer, Paul "My book will be finished any decade now" McKeown, started the ball rolling, with the following:


Does anyone else find that, no matter what one might think of Gibbon's Gubbins in general, baiting someone for past mental health issues is simply crude bullying? I am going to write to his hosting company. I invite others to do the same.


Other termites then dutifully chimed to support him. That does not surprise, of course, but I was rather sad to see him also get support from two people for whom I have great respect and consider as friends, namely Peter Sowray and David Sedgwick.

What none of these people ask themselves is how come I even know about Horton's past troubles? The answer, of course, is that I found out from the website he himself set up. In particular, this article, in which he details his experiences at length. In the process, he also makes the most serious and potentially actionable allegations against a member of the nursing staff, naming him and accusing him of physical abuse of both patients and other staff members. I have yet to see any termitic criticism of Horton's contributions on this topic - apparently, it is OK for him to write what he likes about the subject, and to exploit the experience to pursue whatever obscure agenda he has, slagging off whomever he wishes in the process, but nobody else is permitted to say anything on the subject.

David Sedgwick referred on the Forum to Horton's previous response on the matter, describing it as "dignified". I would be interested to know how dignified David thinks it is to accuse a psychiatric nurse of violence towards patients and staff? How dignified is it repeatedly to brand somebody's business, one which is harming nobody and entertaining many, a "swindle", and its promoter a "spiv"? If only we could all aspire to such heights of dignity.

If McKeown wishes to complain to my hosting company about this blog, let him do so. He can also refer them to Horton's blog and the Bedlam Brigade's effort. They won't have any trouble finding them - all three are hosted by the same company! Besides, if McClown writes his complaint letters at the same speed he writes his books, then by next Christmas, he might just about have got as far as finishing the words "Dear Sir"...

PS.

David Sedgwick has replied. After deliberately selectively quoting me, in order to misquote me, he then writes:

Steve, if you're genuinely interested in my views, please enable comments on your blog. In deference to Carl's wishes, I'm not going to respond further here.

Actions speak louder than words. Readers can judge whether I am interested (genuinely or otherwise) in David's views, by monitoring whether or not comments are enabled on my blog.

Tales from Bedlam

Over at the Bedlam Brigade site, Justin "Care in the Community" Horton continues his obsessive campaign of potentially libellous attacks on chessboxing.  According to the index on the Bedlam Brigade blog, it is already his twelfth (!) piece on the subject. If I were a man in a white coat, I'd be casting anxious glances in his direction.

"It was Keene, I tell you! He came straight from killing Princess Diana, with the lead piping in the drawing room, and then started blowing up the Twin Towers..." (photo: vnnforum.com)

Now today, one of his fellow Bedlamites, a certain Jonathan Bryant, has joined in the campaign, with a truly sidesplitting piece, about combining chess and serial killing, to form the ChessMurdering Organisation. Quoth little Jonny:

"The intellectual challenge of chess combined with the solid aerobic workout of trying to bludgeon somebody to death with a mallet. What’s not to like?

Of course, there is a certain attraction to the idea, but it would take someone with a greater degree of self-awareness than the Bedlam Brigade, to appreciate who might be top of the new organisation's hit-list. In fact, I wouldn't give Horton more than, say, six months...

A match for Ms Tate

A few Anand-Gelfand world championship match statistics:

No. of games played: 10
No. of decisive results: 2
Average no. of moves per game: 30
No. of games that can be described as remotely interesting: 4

"Who will win?", a friend asked me earlier today. I put the question to a well-known comedienne:

"Am I bovvered?" (photo: guardian.co.uk)

Termitewatch (25) - Uphimself outs himself

Over on the Forum, John Uphimself has gleefully admitted that he is the "arrogant oaf" whose appalling behaviour at the Amersham Congress was referred to in the first paragraph of my previous blog post:

After a long wait I have achieved fame (but not fortune) on the SG blog.

Readers will note that he makes no attempt to deny the behaviour in question, nor does he offer any apology for it. I leave you to draw your own conclusions as to what it says about him, that he should be so anxious to out himself for such behaviour. I would only offer the observation that the website, where he has chosen to exhibit his photographic work, is called...er, "Smugmug"!

A true professional

I spent last weekend at the excellent e2e4 Amersham congress, held at the Latimer Place Hotel. Another great weekend of chess was enjoyed by all, in palatial surroundings, and veteran Mark Hebden added yet another first place to his immense list of career successes. The only small piece of grit in the weekend's vaseline was the uninvited appearance of the obnoxious, camera-wielding co-editor of one of our country's chess magazines, who proceeded to treat an assistant arbiter with quite unwarranted sarcasm, when asked to keep his voice down and avoid disturbing the players. However, even this arrogant oaf's behaviour could not detract significantly from one's enjoyment of the weekend.

There was an extensive bookstall, provided by Chess & Bridge, from which I was delighted to purchase a new publication by Russell Enterprises: Profession: Chessplayer, by Vladimir Tukmakov.

Photo: amazon.co.uk

Born in 1946, Tukmakov was arguably the single most promising Soviet player of his generation. His career record includes an incredible 14 appearances in the Soviet Championships, a single appearance in which is a career highlight for many extremely strong players. Sadly, Tukmakov never made it to a Candidates tournament, but in recent years, he has been a successful coach for his native Ukrainian national team. He is clearly a deeply philosophical and cultured man, as is reflected in his book. The 120-page autobiographical section is charmingly written, employing the stylistic device of interspersing standard personal pronoun narrative with third person narrative, as though Tukmakov is looking at himself through the eyes of another. It reminded me of one of my life idols, the late cricket commentator, John Arlott, who once said that he thought it would add a great deal of objectivity to an autobiography, if the subject referred to himself throughout as "he".

Like most memoirs by Soviet players, one is struck by the bureaucratic hurdles they faced in day-to-day life, and about the degree to which life centred on coveted trips abroad. Unlike many, Tukmakov never did anything politically risky, and was never categorised as a "neviezdny", ie. one who was not allowed to travel abroad, but even he felt the heavy hand of political control. When Korchnoi defected in 1976, an open letter was published, signed by numerous Soviet GMs, criticising Korchnoi. Tukmakov's name appeared on it, but he was in Reykjavik when it came out. He says the first he heard about it was whilst in Reykjavik, when his fellow Soviet GM, Antoshin (a notorious KGB functionary) told him about it. "He actually saved me some trouble and signed the letter for me in my absence. Apparently, he had no doubts about my political loyalty", writes Tukmakov, with heavy irony.

The second half of the book consists of 40 deeply annotated games, which include many fine wins against top players, and which provide great instructional material for anyone wishing to improve his chess, as well as those just looking to enjoy some excellent games. There are numerous interesting photos in the book as well, but unfortunately, these are almost all so small as to be virtually impossible to enjoy, at least for my aging eyes.

The small photos aside, my only other criticism of the book concerns the translation. This is attributed to Inga Gurevich and Sofia Ozul, both of whom I assume are not native English speakers. Generally, the translation is very good, but there are regular small lapses, notably misplaced articles (ever the sign of a Russian native speaker), and the occasional odd-sounding expression (the Students' Olympiad is repeatedly referred to as the World Intercollegiate Team Championship, for example). It seems clear that the translation was not reviewed by a native English speaker, which is a pity, as this essential final step would have ironed out these small, but irritating defects. 

Nonetheless, Tukmakov's book is a delightful read, and a worthy addition to one's bookshelf. I leave you with a fine combinative win, the final move of which Tukmakov describes as the most beautiful of his chess career. After it, his opponent apparently thought for one hour, before resigning! 

Hübner's poodle

I have spent the last few days editing a wonderful new book by Dutch IM, Willy Hendricks, which will be published by New in Chess, in a month or two. Called "Move First, Think Later", it is one of the most original and thought-provoking works on chess improvement that I have ever seen. It is also very amusing in places.

One story which had me laughing out loud was the following, told by another Dutch IM, Gert Ligterink. Many years ago, Ligterink organised a party to celebrate making his first IM norm. German Grandmaster, Robert Hübner, heard the noise and wondered what was going on. When told, he was unimpressed, saying "I have a dog at home, which does not play chess at all, but if I trained it for six months, it must surely be capable of becoming at least an IM!".

Doesn't say much for me, I suppose...

Termitewatch (24) - Stewpot's Law

Mr Reuben Stewpot, writing today on the Egregious Forum:

What I find most distressing is this recent tendency to find ways of defaulting players. Rather than having games decided by moves played on the board.


Could this by chance be the same Reuben Stewpot, who still boasts of how he once defaulted a player, in the Lloyds Bank Masters, for opening 1.e4 e6 2.d4 Ke7 as Black? The Little I Am decided that the black player was taking the urine out of a weaker opponent, and defaulted him, on the alleged grounds that he was "bringing the game into disrepute". Quite what basis our favourite master of the perpendicular pronoun had for such peremptory action is anybody's guess; urine extraction or not, the black player has simply played two legal moves on the chessboard - which is two more than Stewpot himself once played against Tony Miles, in the final round of the Luton Open, incidentally...

"Of course, if I had been consulted initially, I would have told the players to do as I say, not as I do".

The Levellers

Several friends have reacted to my blog post, A la recherche  des echecs perdus, regarding the tedium of events in Moscow. A brief flurry of excitement yesterday was followed by another bore-draw today.

I should perhaps make clear that I am not really blaming the players. They are just reacting to the circumstances they find themselves in, and are doing what they think they have to do, to have the best chance of winning the match. Likewise, nor do I give any credence to the squawkings of  the obnoxious Silvio Danailov and his ilk, who claim that all would be rosy, if only the match organisers had imposed the infamous "Sofia rules", to prevent early draw agreements. Having Sofia rules in place for the first two games in Moscow would have forced the players to play another 20 or so moves, before agreeing a draw, but all that would have meant was two largely contentless 40-move games, instead of two largely contentless 20-move games.

It is true that the shortness of the match contributes to the problem, by making the players even more cautious than they would otherwise be. With so few games, a player cannot afford to risk even one loss. In this context, it amused me yesterday to read a defence of the Moscow match, on the Chess Vibes site. This started off with the claim that:

What’s the best and most unique thing about chess? Of course it’s the fact that we have long lasting world championship matches.

Actually, of course, we don't have long-lasting matches any more! Therein lies part of the problem. But even that is only a small factor. The real problem lies elsewhere.

That problem is that computers are killing the game. They have already killed correspondence chess, in all but name, and now classical chess is heading down the same twilight path to oblivion. The computer is now so powerful, that it becomes impossible to out-prepare another top player in the opening. In pre-computer days, Kasparov could analyse so much better than the other top GMs, that he could routinely uncork novelties that refuted entire opening variations. Nowadays, though, that is just impossible - everybody is analysing the same opening lines, using the same powerful computers and programs. As a result, everybody is coming to the board, with much the same opening preparation, with the result that nobody can get a serious opening advantage any more.

Imagine the following experiment. Lock Anand and myself in separate flats, for a week, on our own, to analyse a certain opening variation. Even if I work every bit as hard as Anand, or even harder, at the end of the week, he will have analysed the line much better than me - he sees tactics faster, his positional judgement is better, etc. There will be a large gap in the quality of the analysis we each produce.

But now repeat the experiment, only this time, give each of us a powerful laptop and the latest version of Rybka. By the end of the week, Anand's analysis will still be better than mine, but I can assure you that the gap will be very much smaller, especially if the line we are analysing is something fairly sharp and tactical. Despite the enormous disparity in talent and ability between myself and Anand, if I put in the work, and use the computer fully, he is not going to be able to out-analyse me to any huge extent, thanks to the levelling effect of the computer.

And this is the crux of the problem in world championship matches. There, we are talking about a very small disparity in strength between the players, which makes the problem even greater. Against me, even if Anand gets nothing from the opening, he will still be able to outplay me over the board, and win, but he cannot do that to a top-class GM, who is only marginally weaker than himself anyway. If he gets nothing from the opening, he will have huge trouble beating a player like Gelfand, and vice versa. The result is a whole series of effectively contentless games, where the players are just checking each other's computer-aided preparation. Once in a while, they will hit on a gap, and get some advantage, but most of the time, there will just be what we have already seen in Moscow - 15-20 moves of preparation, 4-5 more accurate moves, a dead position, and a draw.

So, what is the solution? Sadly, I don't think there is one, at least not without abandoning traditional chess, in favour of Fischer-Random, and I hardly know anyone in the chess world who wants to see that (I certainly don't). It grieves me to say it, but I think classical chess is in its last days.

Rinky-dink

I have just spent the past 24 hours absorbed in the new book Bobby Fischer Comes Home, by Helgi Olafsson. The Icelandic GM writes of the story of his friendship with Fischer, during the last three years of the latter's life, after he settled in Iceland in 2005. It is a wonderful book, sad in many ways, but also delightful in others. One sees an intimate portrait of Fischer in his final years, beset by paranoia and consumed by rage at the "Jewish conspiracy" that he could see all around him, yet still a fascinating personality.

I liked the following extract from a letter Fischer wrote in 1974, whilst the inactive world champion. He sent the letter to his old rival Larry Evans, regarding the latter's column in Chess Life and Review. It is a classic example of Fischer's unique manner of how to win friends and influence people - Dale Carnegie he was not!

"Dear Larry
I have a question or two for you. In June/74, p.398, you state in answer to Larry Jadczak 'It certainly does (draw). A very neat resource'.

This is typical of your disappointing tendency to give superficial incorrect answers. After 29. Kd3 Nxf5 30.Be5! Black has a very long way to go before a draw. As a matter of fact, to me, Black's game looks hopeless, ie. 30...Kf7 31. Ke4 Ne7 (or 31... g6 32. Bf4 h5 33. Ke5, etc. wins) 32. Bc3! followed by Ke5 wins. Maybe you'll still try and demonstrate some rinky-dink draw to your readers in this endgame, but remember you're not fooling me one bit - Black is dead lost."

You can see more details of Olafsson's book, and order a copy, here. Don't miss it!

A la recherche des echecs perdus

Today is a rest day in the World Championship match in Moscow, so I am going to the Kent County Chess Association Finals Day, this afternoon. I live in hope of seeing some games of chess lasting beyond move 25, containing at least 50% moves not previously played before, and perhaps, if I am really, really lucky, some games that end in something other than a boring, fightless draw.
For those of you not living within easy commuting distance of the KCCA Finals Day, I leave you with a reminder of the days when World Championship matches involved playing real chess. Notes are from Megabase 2012.

Great chess disputes (part 94)

"They're marking the anniversary of the day Greater Manchester became a separate county for English chess purposes." 

British spy foils underwear bomb plot

"Of course, if I had been consulted initially, I could have told them it was all just pants".

History on the chessboard

My blog entry The Joys of New in Chess quoted Jaenisch's witty problem, known as Tamurlaine's Iron Cage. Such problems, telling a story of some kind, were quite popular in the 19th century, especially in Russia. Below is another famous example, by Petrov (yes, the one responsible for that boring defence to 1.e4...).

This one commemorates one of the most famous Russian military triumphs, Napoleon's retreat from Moscow in 1812. As is well-known, the French Emperor's Grande Armee was chased all the way from the gates of Moscow, back to Paris. A critical moment in the retreat came when the remains of the Grande Armee needed to cross the ice-filled River Berezina. When they reached it on 23 November 1812, they found the bridge in flames, and the bank guarded by a Russian army, under General Chichagov. Facing apparently inevitable destruction, Napoleon's engineers constructed a couple of wooden pontoon bridges, and, aided by a military blunder by Chichagov, who diverted his troops south to where he thought the crossing would be attempted, they managed to scramble across. The losses were appalling, but about 50,000 made it to safety and eventually continued their journey home.

Petrov's composition demonstrates the story on the chessboard. The black king represents Napoleon, who starts just outside Moscow (the square a1). Paris is at h8. Pursued by the Russian army (represented by the two white knights), he is chased away down the b-file, but faces the crucial issue of how to cross the River Berezina, which is represented by the h1-a8 diagonal.The crisis is reached after Black's 5th move:

1. Nd2+ Ka2 2. Nc3+ Ka3 3. Ndb1+ Kb4 4. Na2+ Kb5 5. Nbc3+ Ka6 

At this point, the alert reader will notice that White can give mate by 6.Qa8. However, the WQ represents the unfortunate General Chichagov, who, as we know, misses his chance to destroy the Grande Armee, whilst it is still on Russian soil. The blundering General instead plays


6. Nb4+?, 

allowing Napoleon to make good his escape across the River Berezina, and on to Paris:

6...Ka7 7.Nb5+ Kb8 


However, he cannot escape his fate. He makes it to Paris, but, in a twist not confirmed by the history books, he meets his end, as he arrives there!


8. Na6+ Kc8 9. Na7+ Kd7 10. Nb8+ Ke7 11. Nc8+ Kf8 12. Nd7+ Kg8 13. Ne7+ Kh8 14. Kg2#

Today is День Победы (Victory Day) in Russia, commemorating the end of WW2. Unlike us, the Russians are not too timid to celebrate this occasion, and it is still a significant anniversary in Russia. I am not aware of any chess compositions that celebrate the Battle of Stalingrad, or any other WW2 triumphs, so I thought Petrov's effort might be appropriate for today!

The full composition can be played through below.

Blunderful stuff

Nigel Short must be a bit irritated. On Monday, he declared on Facebook that he was (justifiably) delighted to defeat the world's 18th highest-rated female player, in just 15 moves, with the black pieces, in the 4NCL:

However, his hopes of winning the shortest game this week, as Black, against a player rated over 2490, have just been dashed, by the following masterpiece from the opening round of the US Championships:

I'll have a pint of whatever Stripunsky had been drinking...

Checkomania?

Sunday's TV profile of snooker and darts supremo Barry Hearn shed an interesting sidelight on the perennial issue of the absence of chess on TV. There is an obvious reason why chess is not suited to TV. With games such as snooker and darts, one does not need ever to have picked up a cue/arrow, in order to be able to watch the match and understand what is going on and who is winning - apart from anything else, a numerical running score appears on the screen, whilst even the average termite can understand that the chap who is potting most balls is probably winning. With chess, unfortunately, that is not the case. The uninitiated viewer has no idea which pieces move where, which pieces are attacked, which player has the advantage, etc. Even a numerical count of the pieces tells one far from everything about who stands better.

To some extent, one can get round this problem by having expert commentary, explaining what is happening. But then we run into another contradiction. Most people agree that, if chess is to be made suitable for a TV audience, the game needs to be speeded up - one cannot have players sitting at the board for hours at a stretch, with only the occasional move being made. The TV viewer needs action, we are told, and that means rapid and blitz chess. But here is the rub - the faster you make the game, the less time there is to explain what is going on in the position, so sensible expert commentary becomes much harder to present, in a rapid or blitz game.

This is where I found the Hearn documentary especially interesting. What I discovered was that, some ten years ago, Hearn persuaded Sky Sports to broadcast fishing! Yes, fishing - that "action" sport, where a bunch of guys sit by the river for hours on end, with nothing much happening. A keen angler himself, Hearn sold Sky the idea of Fish-o-Mania, named after the wrestling equivalent. The programme lasts most of the day, with anglers competing over the course of a fixed number of hours, for who can catch the most fish. The show has been on for some ten years already.

Now this surely gives the lie to the idea that chess needs to be speeded up drastically to attract TV coverage? What Hearn realised is that dedicated TV sports channels have hours and hours of airtime to fill, and are always looking for cheap ways of doing so. If they can take six or seven hours of fishing, why not the same amount of chess? It would not be difficult to put together such an event. If anyone can do it, it is Barry Hearn. And, after all, his closest friend and number one protege, Steve Davis, is himself a keen chessplayer and former President of the BCF. Surely he can persuade Barry to give it a go?

"Let's get the boys on the boards!"

Of course, if this were to happen, chessplayers would have to ape their darts and snooker counterparts, by adopting nicknames and walk-on music. What could we expect, one wonders? Vishy Anand, "The Tiger from Madras", entering to the theme  tune from Rocky III? Vlad "The Impaler" Kramnik, marching into the arena to the strains of  Boney M's "Rasputin", perhaps? "The Viking Raider" Magnus Carlsen, coming on to Abba's " The Winner takes it all"? And it would surely be worth the price of admission, just to hear compere Rob  Walker trying to pronounce some of the names: "He is the fastest blitz player in the game. Blink and you'll miss him! It's the Hurricane - Vladislav Tkachiev!".

Ah, the potential is endless! Are you listening, Barry?

The Joys of New in Chess

As a chess journalist and blogger, there is nothing quite so enjoyable as receiving a parcel of new chess books through the post. A few weeks ago, I received one from New in Chess, containing several of the most entertaining and enjoyable books I have seen in years. This article is devoted to one of them, The Joys of Chess, by Christian Hesse.

The Foreword by world champion Vishy Anand describes the book as "a rich compendium of spectacular highlights and defining moments from chess history", and it is certainly that. It is a superb collection, full of remarkable moves, combinations, blunders, problems, endgame studies, etc. Throughout the book, comparisions are drawn with other walks of life, such as literature, science, art, philosophy, etc, but never in a ponderous, overly-scholarly or artificial way. The author, a Professor of Mathematics at the University of Stuttgart, is simply an amateur chess lover, and he manages to convey the amateur's sheer love of the game, like few authors. In many ways, the book reminds me of another of my favourite writers on chess, the Dutch novelist Tim Krabbe. Tim has always loved the unusual, curious and spectacular in chess, and his website (alas, no longer updated) is the greatest collection of such curiosa one will ever find.

A few days ago, I quoted a delightful proof game, taken from the Hesse book. Here is a fabulous problem, by one of the all-time greats, Lev Loshinsky. It is mate in three.

In this wonderful problem, the key 1.Rg6 sets up a mate threat, but allows Black three different moves with his f-pawn, each of which defeats the threat and gives check to the white king! However, each defence is met by a different white Novotny interference on d5, resulting in mate. This problem, which took first prize in the Russian magazine 64 in 1974, was described by John Nunn in his Solving in Style as "perfect in every way", which it certainly is.

But it is not only composed positions that the book features. The following game position is one of the most amazing coincidences I have ever seen on a chessboard:

Jorgenson - Sorensen, Stockholm 1945

White ended the game with the neat combination 1.Nh5+! Rxh5 2.Rxg6+ Kxg6 3.Re6 mate. Does this look familiar? It should. This exact position is the widely quoted mansuba from the Arabic manuscript of al-Adli from 842! Is the game spurious, my suspicious mind wonders? I am not sure - I could not find the game in Megabase, so I would be interested to know Hesse's source.

Mention of sources brings me on to my only real criticism of the book. When it comes to problems and studies, the author has the irritating habit of giving the composer's name and the year, but not the publication source. It is not as bad as some chess authors (the late BH Wood once produced a book of Victorian chess problems, in which he did not even credit the composers!), but it is definitely annoying. The proof game, which I quoted a few days ago, was published in The Problemist 1991.

And that, in turn, brings me on to one other contentious issue. I got the publication details of the Heinonen proof game, as also of the Loshinsky problem above, by consulting Levitt and Friedgood's masterpiece Secrets of Spectacular Chess. Both Hesse examples appear in that book, too, and it has been suggested to me by one problemist friend that Hesse's book is essentially a compendium of examples, taken from other collections. This is always a difficult issue with such books. In practice, if one puts together a collection of one's favourite games, positions and compositions, then it is practically inevitable that they will all have appeared somewhere else before. Many authors, from Chernev to Krabbe, have produced similar compendiums of such material. It is possibly true that Hesse could have been a little more scrupulous in acknowledging where he first saw the examples he quotes, but I suspect that he may not even recall the answer, in many cases. I certainly cannot recall where I first saw many of my own favourites. I am inclined to take a lenient view, although of course, it goes without saying that if Hesse's name were R D Keene, the deranged denizens of one particular London-based chess blog would be calling for him to be hanged, drawn and quartered, probably in the lobby of Simpsons in the Strand.

I had planned to end here, but mention of termites always brings a nasty taste to the mouth, so here is a suitable mouthwash, with which to eliminate it. This is a problem by the Russian master Janisch, from 1850, known as Tamurlaine's Iron Cage. It is White to play and mate in 10, but with a difference. In the Tamurlaine legend, the Mongol conqueror defeated his Turkish enemies in 1402, and spared the life of the opposing leader, instead imprisoning him in an iron cage, in which he spent the rest of his days. In this problem, White can give mate in one on his first move, and on every subsequent move of the solution, but, in Tamurlaine tradition, he refuses to do so, instead concentrating on building his iron cage around the hapless black monarch. Do make a point of playing through the solution:

The Joys of Chess does just what it says on the tin. Do not hesitate to buy a copy, and keep it by your bedside on cold winter nights. If ever you start to forget what it is that you love about chess, then pick it up, open a page at random, and look at what you see - you will soon be reminded what it is about this magical game of ours, that keeps us hooked, despite all the trials and tribulations it occasionally puts us through.

You can buy The Joys of Chess here.

A Question of Logic - the solution

I left you with this position, reached after 12 moves by either side. What were the moves?

Surprising as it may seem, the solution can be worked out by pure logic. The first thing we note is that Black can only have moved his knights, and maybe his rooks. Looking at White's position, if we count up the minimum number of moves he needs to reach this position, we have the following: 3 pawn moves, one each with the QB and each knight, two with the queen and four with the rook (the latter can only move once the QN and QB have moved, so the rook must have gone via c1-c3-f3-f6). That is a total of 12, so we have accounted for all the white moves. That in turn means that the missing white d-pawn must have been captured on its initial square, d2, and by a black knight.

So we know that a black knight must have taken on d2, and then moved away, so as to allow the next white moves. The latter must have been, in sequence, Bh6, Nbd2, Rc1, Rc3, Rf3, Rf6 and then pawn f4 and Ngf3.That is eight white moves. We therefore know that the black knight had to take on d2 and move away, inside the first four moves, to enable White to get his next 8 moves in. The only black knight which could possibly have done this in time is the knight from g8 - Black's first four moves were therefore Nf6-Ne4-Nxd2 and then N-somewhere.

So what was White doing in his first four moves? He must have played c4, e4 and Qa4-Qc6, as these are the only moves not accounted for. Since the pawn could not have gone to e4 until after Black had played Nxd2, we can be certain of the initial moves on both sides, which must have been 1.c4 Nf6 2.Qa4 Ne4 3.Qc6 Nxd2. 4.e4 and now the BN on d2 must have gone somewhere.

The next question is where? The answer must be b3, since it cannot take on c4,e4, f1 or b1 , nor give a check on f3. So we have 4...Nb3.

Now we have to consider what Black's remaining eight moves were. His knight must get back to g8, but without taking the white pieces which come to h6 and f6. The trouble is, the white rook lands on f6 in only six moves' time, so the black knight has only five moves to reach g8. A quick look reveals that it cannot do this, unless it goes via c5-e4-f6-g8, which is not possible, because the knight cannot take the e4-pawn.

If the Nb3 cannot get to g8 in time, then, ergo, the knight which ends up on g8 must be the one that started on b8 - the knights must swap places! This confirms the truth of Murray Chandler's Law in such proof games, which says that if the position involves two knights on their starting squares, the solution always involves swapping them over! Black's next five moves must be Na6-Nb4-Nd5-Nf6-Ng8. Having done that, the other knight then moves Nc5-Na6-Nb8, completing the arrangement!

The full solution is therefore as follows:

This lovely problem is by the Finnish composer Heinonen and is taken from Christian Hesse's book, The Joys of Chess. A full review of this wonderful book will appear over the weekend.

An exercise in logic

This is a Proof Game in 12. In other words, this position arises after 12 moves by each side. Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to work out the game score. There is, of course, only one sequence of legal moves, which can produce this position after 12 moves by each side.

The solution, and more details, will be posted on Friday.

"Shakespeare wrote Times chess column" storm

The world of chess was plunged into controversy last night, after it was claimed that the world-famous Times chess column, which for decades has been assumed to have been written by Ray "The Penguin" Keene, was actually written by Shakespeare and a group of other writers. "This is the greatest piece of plagiarism in the entire history of the universe", claimed Mr E Justin Termite, Regius Professor of Psychological Imbalance, at the University of South Bishopsgate (formerly Bedlam Mental Hospital). "Every word of the Times column has been copied from other great works of literature", claimed Professor Termite.

In evidence, the Professor referred to the following statement by Keene yesterday, on the @Times_chess Twitter account:

"i think nigel short will drop out of the event and become a commentator"

"This is the most appalling piece of unacknowledged intellectual property theft that I have ever come across. Not only has Keene blatantly stolen the pronoun "I" from the opening words of John's Gospel, but it is perfectly apparent that the word "short" has been shamelessly copied wholesale, and without a shred of acknowledgement, from Ratcliffe's speech to Hastings in Shakespeare's Richard III:

"Make a short shrift":
(Richard III, Act 3, Scene 4. 94-97)

Other critics of Keene were quick to make similar claims. Retired police officer, Ernie "Good Moaning" Crabtree, drew attention to a recent Keene Tweet, which read "Thanks for update". Crabtree said "This is quote clairly a blootant peace of cipying from Shokespar, to wit:

"I can no other answer make but thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks..."
--Sebastian, Twelfth Night, Act 3, scene 3


Keene denied the allegations, telling journalists last night, "Verily is this the winter of our discontent. It is a truth universally acknowledged that he's mad, 'tis true,' tis true, 'tis pity, and pity' tis 'tis true - yet there be no method in't".

When asked by journalists what he thought should be done about Keene, Professor Termite, who also moonlights as a part-time London taxi driver, said "You know what I'd do wiv' 'im? String 'im up, that's what! That's the only language these people understand. I 'ad that George Harrison in the back o' the cab once, y'know..." (at this point, the press conference was interrupted, as Professor Termite was carried away by several men in white coats).


William Shakespeare is 548.