hardcore pawnography

note: i had this all written out, just like i wanted it. at the last second i decided to “tweak” it, and managed to delete it. so i had to quickly re-write it all. motherfucker, that’s how this tournament went. sorry this will suck. the interview with GM larry evens will be posted wednesday.

we headed west on I-70 under cloudless blue skies, hot coffee in the drink holders, various food stuffs in a bag, and social distortion on the cd player. the drive was uneventful, other than spectacular views and the speed limitlessness of nevada’s highway 50, america’s lonliest highway.

i was on my way to my third ever tournament, my first really big major huge tournament. the 25th annual reno sands chess open.

we pulled into downtown reno and were immediately struck by the almost oppressive vibe of broken hearts and lost souls. the sky was an ominous overcast battleship gray. a woman, who could have been a streetwalker 30 years ago, and might still be trying to pull tricks if you judged by her boots and leather pants, walked/stumbled down the street. clearly she had seen better times, as had the guy walking in the other direction, sporting a look of combined animalistic survival and 40 oz numbness. nevada is beautiful, reno is beautiful, downtown off strip casino reno is not as beautiful as it once may have been.

check in was a breeze, the room had a comfy 70’s feel to it. i dropped my bags, wound my way through the ringing and pinging of slot machines to the pre-tournament champagne reception where GM Larry Evans was giving a lecture. the room was filled with slavs, chess freaks, free champagne and a cheese plate. i noticed a distinguished looking guy hanging with a statuesque blond. turns out to be GM Sergey Kudrin and Jennifer Acon. i availed myself of a few glasses of free champagne and listened to GM Evans speak. you may expect a GM to be lecturing on chess, but instead, he was talking about the politics of chess, Kasparov, Truong, Polgar, etc. he also had his new book this crazy world of chess for sale, which i snapped up at the low low price of 10 bucks and which he gladly signed after his talk. i gave him a hardcore pawnography sticker and asked him if he would give me 5 minutes for an interview, he said he would during the time he had to analyze games. (i will post the interview wednesday)

back at the room i discovered internet would cost me 6 bucks an hour. YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!! every hotel in the US offers free internet, and god help them if they don’t. you would think a casino hotel that pulls in such a huge amount of cash might splurge on free internet, at least so the kids can chat and have something to do while mom and dad are losing the kid’s college money throwing dice downstairs. what’s the matter, are they afraid if they offered free internet everyone might be busy looking at porn and not gambling downstairs in the casino? even if half the hotel guests did that, there are enough people in th casino to make up for it. so there will be no internet for me. (note: talking with a chess mom about this, she tells me some people paid and still couldn’t get online. and apparently, the hotels in vegas don’t have free internet either. that’s just clownshit).

i decide to look at some games and go to sleep. first round is tommorow at 1200.

day one

the sky is overcast. i expect to see a raven perched o’er my door. i slept great, which isn’t a good sign. i wasn’t nervous, i wasn’t thinking about the game at all. i am in a dream world, watching myself on a tv screen. it’s surreal. it feels like a soul vampire came last night and sucked out my soul, leaving me an empty husk. i walk down to the tournament area, there aren’t so many kids. this is a different crowd, a bit more serious, a bit more strange. one guy, i can’t tell if he is retarded, or a super genius, or english is his second language. he has a strange speech pattern, like a team of mice are in his brain typing what he needs to say into an old speak-n-spell and the computer is his voice, but has to “start up” before each sentence.

me: hi
him: nnnngggh hello
me: so what section are you playing in?
him: nnnngggh i am playing nnnnnnggh one section up hnnnnnn. i will be nnnnghhhh playing in the “C” section hhhhnnnn.
me: ok, good luck! (exits quickly)

there is an odd vibe. perhaps its the chess tension mixed with the zombies putting coins into the video poker games downstairs, perhaps it’s the gray sky getting to me, but everything seems muted.

round 1
first game, i am white. i decide to start with the grob, i want to have fun dammit. i try to be all excited, i want to play fun, exciting chess. i open with g4 and my opponent, an old guy with a tweed jacket who could play indiana jones’ dad, lets out a groan.

he knows something is up. on move 4 he moves his queen, excellent, he doesn’t know what to do against the grob. each move takes him a few minutes. by move 6 i am bored and don’t want to play anymore. move 10 i lose my knight. mentally i’ve stopped playing. i just don’t feel like playing, i’m not even looking at his moves, i’m just moving pieces. one and a half hours later, on move 55, i finally resign. it took me 16 minutes to make all my moves. here are the moves:

white: chessloser
black: charles falk

1. g4 d5 2. Bg2 Bxg4 3. c4 c6 4. Qb3 Qc7 5. Nc3 e6 6. cxd5 Nd7 7. dxc6 bxc6 8 Nb5 Qb6 9. d4 Rb8 10. a4 cxb5
11. Qg3 Nf6 12. Bc3 Bb4 13. Kf1 O-O 14. d5 Bc5 15. Bxc5 Qxc5 16. h3 Bf5 17 Nf3 Ne4 blah blah blah. on move 55 i resigned. i wasn’t upset, i was apathetic. what the hell is wrong with me? i’ve wanted to play in this damn tournament, i was all excited, and now that i’m here, i am not “present.” perhaps its the weather, i don’t know. we go to the in-n-out burger for lunch, return to the room, and i prepare for round 2 by reading and sleeping.

halfway through the game, i run into GM Walter Brown who played a simul the night before (Francisco Baltier of Tucson, AZ actually beat him!) which went until 4 a.m. “you’re playing?” i ask incredulously. “yeah, i should have taken a bye, but what the hell. i’m taking a bye round 2.” cool guy. he played the first simul 25 years ago at the first reno tournament, he is a 6 time champion. perhaps i can wrangle an interview with him sometime during the tournament, he seems pretty approachable. (i never get to. i can’t bother him during the game, i don’t want to bother him before the game, he might be prepping or resting, and i don’t see him after his games. he seems like a cool guy, the timing just didn’t happen. last i saw of him, he was playing against GM Sergey Kudrin. a few hours into the game, both men had lost only a knight. for all i know, they are still playing. )

we go to a nearby used bookstore, i look at the chess section and there are two guys there. they ask if i’m in the tournament, they are, and we start talking. Richard Lee and Matthias are two guys from the bay area, california. both super cool, super friendly. i tell them how i feel, they say they have had days like that, and i don’t feel as bad.

round 2

i feel a bit better, more ready for a fight. i’ll be playing black, so i am ready to french kiss this motherfucker goodbye. he’s an older guy, seems quiet and reserved. 14 moves, less than 30 minutes later, i’m mated. i shake his hand, smile and say “good game” but inside i have been kicked in the nuts repeatedly with steel toed spiked boots with electric cattleprods on the tips. my american indian nickname for this tournament is “sucks at chess.”

here is the game:

White: Michael Esh
Black: chessloser (aka Sucks At Chess)
1 e4 e6 2. d4 e5 3. e5 Bb4+ (this is one of the places i fucked up. i should have played c5, i don’t know why i didn’t)
4. Bd2 Bxd2+ 5. Qxd2 Ne7 6. Nf3 c5 (wrong, too late now, dumbass) 7. dxc5 Nbc6 8. Nc3 O-O 9. Bb5 d4 10. Ne4 Qd5 (thinking, he will move his knight to check me, i’ll take with the g pawn, i’ll be all opened up) 11. Nf6+ gxf6 (see, what was i thinking?) 12. exf6 (here i think, i have 2 squares to move the knight to, i need to pick the right one) Ng6 (i hit the clock and think, “nope, wrong one) 13 Qh6 Qe4+ 14 Be2 d3 15 MATE

i am livid, i hate myself, i am in physical pain. i feel like a trapped animal, riddled with self hatred and doubt. i take out my aggression on whiskey and roulette at Harrah’s. a few manhattans and enough money to make up my tournament entry fee later, i forget how shitty i feel. i may suck and lose, but at least i will sleep in a bed with a live woman. who is not my mom. at 3 a.m. i wake, my mind playing the damn game, i hate myself, i don’t want to play, i don’t want to be here, why am i wasting my time?

day two
it’s a sunny day, i feel good, ready for battle. i have 4 more games, i want to play them, i want to win. if i just play solid, simple moves, i can wait for my opponent to fuck up and take advantage of him, squeeze him slowly like a boa constrictor. my phone rings, it’s wahrheit. he comes to the room, we talk a bit, make plans to talk later. we head down to the coliseum for our gladiatorial battles.

round 3

i look at my pairing, i have a full point bye. what the fuck? turns out, there isn’t someone for me to play, i suck that much. goddammit. i have the morning “off.” i’m not thrilled. first off, i don’t care about points. second, i’d rather lose (i say that now, i feel different when i do) than get a free point and have no rating change. and dammit, i want to play. the TDs offer to pair me up with someone in the E section, i decline. ok, i have three games to go, if i win two of them, i’ll be happy.

round 4

i am playing against an indian lady, i think “i will finish her off like i finish off a tasty dish of palak paneer.” little do i realize she is a sadistic assassin. she starts with 1. d4, i get all Paul Keres on her to force her into a french fried death with 1…e6. we are even most of the way, i am not playing aggressive, i am waiting for her to fuck up so i can pounce. i am reacting to her moves, she is controlling the game. i think i may have this one, her pawn eventually walks across the board like a crazy nasa astronaut driving across the states wearing adult diapers to kill her boyfriend’s girlfriend. it becomes a queen and i resign before my king is killed in a menage a trois of death. game went like this:

white: Nita “sadistic assassin” Patel

black: someone who clearly is in the wrong section

1. d4 e6 2. c4 Bb4+ 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb2 Bxc3 5. Bxc3 d5 6. e3 Nc6 7. cxd5 exd5 8. Bd3 Ng4 9. Nf3 O-O 10. O-O Nf6 11. h3 Be3 12. Qc2 Ne7 13. Ng5 Ng6 14. Nxe6 fxe6 15. Bxg6 hxg6 16. Qxg6 b6 17. Qc2 a5 18. f3 Nh5 19. Be1 Qg5 20. f4 Qd8 21. Rc1 Rc8 22. g4 Nf6 23. Bh4 Kf7 24. g5 Qe8 25. gxf6 Rh8 26. fxg7 Rxh4 27. Qg2 Qe7 28. f5 Kf7 29. fxe6+ K xe6 and i stop taking notes, make a few final moves, and resign.

i am beaten and feel like shit, but i put forth an honest game, she was a stronger player, she outplayed me, she tried to be nice and tell me i played well, i thanked her and went to my room dejected. back to harrah’s for more roulette and manhattans, i lose at the tables as well. the only thing that makes this night not a complete waste is i get my cocktail waitress to take a picture with a chess piece. i give her a sticker.

to finish the day, we stop at the Arby’s in the hotel for a late night snack in the room. i order a turkey sandwich, my wife gets 5 potato bites. in the room we open the bag, i have roast beef and pastrami, my wife is short 1 potato bite. yeah, that kinda day.

day 3

its a sunny day, i feel good. i feel like i’ve warmed up and am ready for a fight. no matter what happens, i will destroy. my new revenge will be, if i know i am going to lose and resign, i go to the bathroom, put my hands down my pants and rub my sweaty ass and nuts, then return to the board, play a move, resign, and shake hands firmly. (note: i never actually do this in reality, no matter how much i may want to. it’s just my revenge fantasy).

round 5

i meet my opponent, an older guy. i am white, he is black. i open with 1. d4, he tries to keres me with 1…e6!!! hah, no good old man, i know the game. by move 12 i bring his king out in the open to die. by move 19 there is a full on king hunt and he is about dead. by move 21 i’ve fucked up and am losing the game. i cannot win for shit. this is definite proof that there IS a god and he HATES me. here is the game:

white: a super saturated solution of suck

black: Larry Beavers

1. d4 e6 2. Nf3 d5 3. Bf4 Nf6 4. e3 A6 5. Nbd2 c5 6. c3 cxd4 7. exd4 Nc6 8. Bd3 h6 9. Rc1 Nh5 10. Bg3 Bd6 11. Ne5 Nxg3 12. Nxf7 Kxf7 (good, bitch, your king is exposed, i have you now old man!) 13 fxg3 Rf8 14. Bh7 (i should have castled with check, but instead i make sure he can’t put his king in the corner and let him move to safety) Ke7 15. Qg4 g5 16. Nf3 e5 17. Qh5 Rf6 18. O-O Kd7 19. dxe5 Nxe5 20. Rd1 (i fuck up huge) Ke7 21. Rxd5 (i give away the game) Bg4 22. Nxe5 Bxf1 23. Kxf1 Bxh5 and i stop writing moves down, resign in a few moves.

back in my room i feel like someone is punching me in the stomach and poking my heart with a rusty dull sword. my mind is trying to console me with “you are playing up, they are rated higher than you, it’s just a damn game” but i put my heart and soul into the game, i really honestly tried, and i fucked up and lost. i go to the movies and watch resident evil 3 to take my mind off how shitty i feel. even while milla jovovich kills zombies, i can’t shake the sight of him smiling as i lose. dammit.

round 6

i am beaten, totally demoralized, i just want it to be over. i decide to go out in style and drink during my game. it’s not like i can play any worse. i get a beer, the round is delayed, i’m on my second beer when we start. i’m playing against a super nice guy, Michael James. he is a local guy, only been playing since december, less than a year, this is his first tournament, he is unrated. holy fuck, if i lose now, i’m gonna choke myself with a pawn down my throat. in sappy american TV fashion, i win my last game. but it’s bittersweet. i feel bad for him, he hasn’t won 1 game, i don’t want him to have a crappy time on his first tournament. still, the win, as cheap as it was, puts me in a semi decent mood.

overall, even with the soul sucking loss and feelings of gross inadequacy, i had a good time. i met some great people, like John Tillotson from Utah who was playing in the C section, and was at 3-1 when i last spoke with him. we had played a quick blitz game before the tournament started, great guy.

Ricky “the happiest kid i’ve ever seen” Abderhalden, and his sister Katie, from Boise, Idaho. Ricky is 13 years old, Katie is 11. both kids were playing up in the D section, both kids scored 3 points. they are surely on their way to at least becoming masters, and i hope next time i see them, they are in the C section (so i don’t’ have to get my ass kicked by them). they have a cool mom who let them have a hardcore pawnography sticker.

Michael James, the guy was friendly and nice the whole tournament. i hope the next time i see him, he is rated in the 1200’s.

and i saw some old friends from arizona, like Troy.

i met soapstone and mauricio, the reno crew.

i got to meet wahrheit, and he bought me dinner and let me win a blitz game. how cool is that?

i got to watch GM’s play and i got to meet and talk with GM Larry Evans.

thing is, as crappy as i felt with my shitty score, there were dudes rated in the 2000s who had 0 points. they didn’t win ONE game. as shitty as i felt, i can only imagine how they feel. this doesn’t help me much, but it does, i guess, offer a bit of Schadenfreude

i hope next year, when i play in reno, i do a lot better….and i hope wang is there as well…