hardcore pawnography

first off, a belated happy birthday to Liquid egg product.

just got back from the 2008 Far West Open Chess Tournament in reno, damn i feel good. it may have been “small”, what with it being easter weekend and foxwoods going on at the same time, but there were a few grand masters, a whole chess hall full of people, and it was a damn good time.

the drive across utah and nevada is long, and there is a whole lot of nothing, so you can drive 100 mph and it doesn’t matter. we stopped at the bonneville salt flats,

and my wife met a ghost in a rest stop, so that was surreal and interesting. driving for hours through the arid wasteland makes me think of post apocalyptic movies like damnation alley and road warrior, makes me think of the dark tower series by steve king, makes me wonder what the pioneers did without a highway or cd players. those guys had some stones. i drive, looking for signs of aliens, wondering which mountain is the hollow one with the huge city in it. it gives you time to think, i thought about lots of crazy crap, some of it i might post later this week.

so i get to the tournament hall for registration, and a few minutes later some tough looking young chessslinger comes up to me and introduces himself, it’s Kevin, who is cool like the other side of the pillow. also chris is with him and it feels cool to show up and kind of know people. i feel like i’m part of a community, it’s neat. then, i’m standing around, and this guy walks by and kind of surreptitiously takes a picture of me, but i see it. i move to another room and he walks by and does it again. i don’t mind pictures, just come up and say “hey, let me get a picture” but this is odd. later in the tournament i talk to him, his name is bob, he is a super cool, wierd chess enthusiast who is a bit of a brilliant mad genius and totally fascinating. he gives me this wierd “crash course” in chess that involves determinism, stienitz and morphy, fischer, and was just out there, cool. chess people are strange. i hope i see him again.

GMs Larry Evans and Sergy Kudrin were there, i didn’t think they would remember me. i went into the bathroom, and next thing i know, kudrin has my arms pinned back and evans is kicking me and punching me. this is payback for the shitty embarrassingly sucky interviews, i can’t argue with them. (ok, that didn’t happen, but it would be hilarious if it did).

wahrheit gives me a call, he isn’t playing but stops by to see everyone, we get some coffee and pie and talk, it’s great to see him again.

overall it is a great tournament totally worth going to. reno is a cool town, two blocks away is the riverwalk with parks and coffeeshops and restaurants and bars and art and architecture. what a damn cool town. the tournament itself is cool, the vendor is good, the people and players are pretty interesting and rather freindly. i was a bit surprised, not a lot of kids, less than i would expect. i think there were more older people in the d section than kids, but the kids there were having a good time, there was a cool relaxed vibe to it all.

the coolest hair and most fucked up opening will go to mike

who won 2.5 points in the A section playing 1. e3, 2. Ke2, 3. Kf3. no shit. it’s gotta be the hair.

GM kudrin played some cool games, also GM yermolinsky was there,

GM Melik Khachiyan, who looks like phil collins was there.

i got an interview with him, which i will post tomorrow, and i even talked for a few minutes with jennifer acon, who was pretty cool.

the whole thing was pretty damn fun, i saw people i met in october last time i was in reno, i met new folks who were pretty damn cool, i didn’t go to the casino though, so no roulette for me. still had a great time.

DAY ONE

ROUND 1 - i’m playing black against a 1281, an old guy, looks like the distant cousin of death. perhaps it’s his game face, perhaps he just doesn’t smile ever, maybe he isn’t feeling that well, who knows. i’m not feeling all that into it, i’m detached, not “in the moment.” i get the first 5 moves of the grunfeld out, but the guy is taking his time, he is wearing me down. i am jared from subway, he is a jelly donut wrapped in bacon and dipped in chocolate, and i just can’t take it. mentally i toss the game like a trucker tosses a pissbottle out the window as he drives down the highway. by move 13 all my pieces have returned to the back rank. by move 16 i don’t want to play and i just want it to be over. i suck and i hate it. i lose and i’m embarrassed and i hate myself. while i didn’t blunder, i played like a scared, shell shocked little timid pussy. here is the game in all it’s gay ass embarrasing glory.

winters - chessloser

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 g6 3. Nc3 d5 4. cxd5 Nxd5 5. e4 Nxc3
6. bxc3 Bg7 7. Nf3 O-O 8. h3 c5 9. Be3 Nc6 10. Qd2 cxd4
11. cxd4 Re8 12. Rd1 Bf8 13. d5 Nb8 14. Be2 a5 15. O-O Nd7
16. Bb5 b6 17. Rfe1 Ba6 18. Bc6 Rc8 19. Rb1 Rb8 20. Bh6 Qc7
21. Bxf8 Nxf8 22. Bxe8 Rxe8 23. Rbc1 Qd7 24. Ne5 Qa4 25. Qf4 f6
26. Ng4 Nd7 27. d6 Ne5 28. Nxe5 fxe5 29. Qxe5 exd6 30. Qd5+ Kg7
31. f3 Qa3 32. Rc7+ Kh6 33. Qd2+ g5 34. Re3 Qa4 35. Qxd6+ Kh5
36. Rxh7#
back in my room i sulk and lay on the bed and my mind is filled with thoughts of “fuck reno, i hate it here. i hate this fucking dirty shitty town, i hate this crappy ass tournament held in this shitty hotel. the bed is uncomfortable, the room is ugly, i hate it here. fuck chess, i clearly am not smart enough to play it, and it bores the shit out of me, i’d rather be home riding my bike. in fact, i suck at that as well, and now that i think about it, my whole life is a huge failure, i hate me and i hope i die soon.

i let this all out to my wife, who silently listens and doesn’t’ say anything, just lets me vent. i then decide i said i would play violent chess, i need to. i need to be like morozevich, all or nothing, balls to the wall in your face go big or go home chess. we walk to the starbucks, get a cup of coffee and the sun and air and caffeine rejuvenate me. back at the room i take out my chess notebook and look at the moves i wrote down for three attacking games, one as white, one as black against e4, one as black against d4. i go over them and decide no matter what happens, i will play these moves as a guide. this moment is important, it is the birth of my “pre-game rountine.” (there will be more on that later this week)

ROUND 2

ok, its me against an unrated kid, it’s his first tournament. by move 5 i realize he has no idea what he is doing. it won’t matter how sloppy i play, i will win, and i do. i’m not proud of the win, but it is a confidence boost and i do actually feel a bit better. at least i can go to bed feeling ok.

DAY TWO

ROUND 3

i play white against another kid, alvin “king” kong, rated 1279. i go through my pre-game moves, i am ready. he makes some small errors, i realize they are not the best moves but i don’t know how to capitalize on them. at least i know enough to recognize they are not good, now i need to know how to exploit them. i miss a tactic on move 10, but i saw it as soon as i castled. i need to take my time and think and look. i do, i wear him down. i have this attack going, but i can’t make it work, he beats me back. it feels all positional, lots of threats and moving, not much actual taking. his damn bishop is hampering me, my light squared bishop is useless. for some reason, he lets me open up my white squared bishop and i eventually take his annoying bishop. i feel like a back alley abortionist as opposed to a skilled johns hopkins surgeon. i might get the job done, but it’s ugly and ungraceful. i feel bad for the kid, i wish i was better, he has to be sitting there thinking “come on you stupid old man, just kill me.” i reposition, i trade some stuff off, i move in for the kill and he finally, thankfully resigns when he sees i will take all his pieces. my second win, and at least i am a bit proud of this one. there is hope for me. i go down to the river walk to meet my wife, it’s sunny and beautiful. reno is a cool hip awesome town, people are in the park, there are kyackers doing tricks in the river, there are kick ass restaurants, i love it here, what a great vibe. i want to move to reno.
here is the game:

chessloser - kong

1. d4 e5 2. d5 Nf6 3. c4 Bc5 4. Bg5 O-O 5. Nc3 h6
6. Bh4 c6 7. e4 d6 8. Bd3 Nbd7 9. Nge2 Qb6 10. O-O Qc7
11. Ng3 Nb6 12. Bxf6 gxf6 13. Nh5 Qe7 14. Qf3 Kh8 15. Ne2 Rg8
16. Neg3 Nd7 17. Nf5 Qf8 18. Qh3 Rg6 19. a4 cxd5 20. exd5 Qe8
21. Nfg3 Nb6 22. Qh4 Qe7 23. Bxg6 fxg6 24. Nxf6 Kg7 25. Nge4 g5
26. Qg3 Bf5 27. Nh5+ Kg6 28. Qf3 Rf8 29. Nhg3 Bd7 30. Qd3 Kf7
31. Nxc5 dxc5 32. Rae1 Bc8 33. Re3 Nd7 34. Rfe1 Ke8 35. Qc3 Kd8
36. Qa5+ b6 37. Qxa7 Qf6 38. Rf3 Qe7 39. Rxf8+ Qxf8 40. Ne4 g4
41. d6 Qf4 42. Qc7+

ROUND 4

i am black against a 1256 who looks like bill engvall. i feel froggy, i try an attack. on move three i expect him to block with his knight, but he blocks with the bishop. i don’t think it will work but i go ahead with my plan anyway, just to see how far i can get. things go otherwise according to plan, then he plays d5 which fucks up my whole program. do i deal with that like i should? do i play my pawn out, get my knight into the attack? no, i stubbornly force my plan, knowing full well it won’t work, thinking “i’m committed, its all or none” when it wasn’t. i think i can sac my knight and still get what i need, turns out my calculation was way off and i just end up a piece down for no reason. i know i’m gonna lose but i go ahead anyway, and my raging attack turns out to be an impotent old man’s advances on a young hot girl. i lose. i don’t feel too bad, i wanted to see what would happen, i had a plan and wanted to see how far i could go with it.

here is the game:

kelly - chessloser.

1. d4 e6 2. c4 Bb4+ 3. Bd2 Bxd2+ 4. Qxd2 f5 5. Nf3 Nf6
6. Nc3 O-O 7. e3 b6 8. Be2 Bb7 9. O-O Ne4 10. Qc2 Rf6
11. Rfd1 Rg6 12. d5 Ng5 13. Nxg5 Qxg5 14. Bf3 Nc6 15. dxc6 Bxc6
16. Bxc6 dxc6 17. g3 Rh6 18. f4 Qg4 19. Qg2 Rh3 20. Qxc6 Rf8
21. Qxe6+ Kh8 22. Ne4 h5 23. Nf2 Rxg3+ 24. hxg3 Qxg3+ 25. Kf1 Rf6
26. Qe8+ Kh7 27. Qxh5+ Rh6 28. Qxf5+ Rg6 29. Qh3+ Qxh3+ 30. Nxh3 Rg3
31. Ng5+
we go out and i soothe my sore soul with a gin and tonic at the imperial, the coolest hippest bar in reno. why did i choose this bar? cause there were a bunch of fixed gear riders there, so you know it’s gonna be good. they have tasty chicken satay and calamari as well. i’m not upset when i go to sleep.

2:30 am, i wake up. all i can see in my mind is that last position, me foolishly sacing a knight. i think about how all i had to do was move d3 and bring my knight out, or push the fucking h pawn, anything but what i did. fuck, i hate me, and i can’t sleep, that damn game is going over and over in my mind. i read a bit and eventually fall back asleep, but i’m gonna be tired and out of it the next day, i just know it.

DAY THREE.

it’s easter sunday, we get up early and go to church before the next round. i would have tried sacrificing a chicken or something, but since i’m in church, i beg and plead and try to make a deal with god to let me play well and win another game. after church, we go to the starbucks, i go to the room to play over the moves, and i head down to the chesshall for a fight.

ROUND 5

i’m black against a 1349. dude plays 1e4 and i hit him with the sicilan pin variation, cause no one knows it. i fuck it up a bit, lose some momentum, but i think “no, i gotta play attacking chess” and i attack. my bishop comes develops with an attack, my queen sets up with an attack, i am playing well. this is my best game of the tournament, i am in control, i feel good. we get to a position where i could take his knight and he cant do shit cause i mate, but i miss that and attack his rook with a pawn. no matter, whatever happens, i take his knight. he resigns. perhaps he was tired, perhaps i distracted him by getting up and down and squirming like an impatient 5 year old. no matter, i got lucky and i won. sweet ass sweet! here is the game, i’m very proud of it. i treat myself by going to the vendor and buying chessbase 9.

i now own chessbase9. i have to keep playing chess to justify buying this.

here is the game, i think it’s my best game of the tournment:

mayfield - chessloser. 1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. d4 cxd4 4. Nxd4 Nf6 5. Nc3 Bb4
6. Bd3 Qa5 7. Bd2 Qe5 8. Nf3 Qc7 9. Qe2 e5 10. a3 Bxc3
11. Bxc3 O-O 12. Bxe5 Qb6 13. Bd4 Qd8 14. O-O-O d5 15. e5 Re8
16. Rhe1 Nc6 17. Qd2 Ne4 18. Bxe4 dxe4 19. Rxe4 Bf5 20. Rf4 Qc8
21. Qc3 Qe6 22. Kb1 h6 23. h4 Rac8 24. Rd2 Qg6 25. Ne1 Nxe5
26. Qg3 Ng4 27. Be3 Nxe3 28. Qxg6 Bxg6 29. fxe3 Rxe3 30. Nf3 Be4
31. Rf2 Rd8 32. Kc1 g5
ROUND 6

i don’t want to play. i’m happy, i’m a bit tired, i don’t’ want to play and i don’t care if i win or not. i was hoping to get three wins, and i did. i figure i will just have fun. i meet my opponent, i am white, he is rated 737. fuck. i can’t lose to someone rated under 1000, pressure is on.

i open with d4 he has no idea what to do against it. i’m relieved yet i feel bad. i’m lucky though, my last game is a gimme, i don’t have to think, an easy win, but that is kinda cheap. i tell chris i feel bad, he says “punish him or he won’t learn, then take him to the skittles room and teach him.” that is excellent advice and sets me right. i win and we go over the game and he is a super cool guy, really nice. i don’t know much, but i show him what i know, i tell him the basics of blunderchecking and such.

the tournament is over, i got 4 fucking points!!!! i came in hoping to at least score two or three points, i got four. ok, in reality, two of my games were gimmes, so they kinda don’t count, and the kid wasn’t feeling good, i think he was sick, so he wasn’t on his best game, i got lucky on that one. but i had one really good win and my two losses weren’t slaughters. i didn’t blunder huge, i think i played better than i ever have before. i don’t’ know what place i’m in, but i know i’m in money. me, kevin and vern go to the bar for some beers, the cage is right there, the d section is done, and i get paid $101. holy crap, i won money playing chess.  i don’t want to sound like a rapper, but i have to thank god for my victory.  i know i made a deal with him, i forgot what my end of the bargain was.  this could be bad. we’ll see what happens.

i still don’t know what my rating is, but it has to have gone up. i’m no longer provisional either. now its a long, hard, rocky climb. i’m kind of excited to see what happens.

i want to give a super huge thank you to Kevin, chris, soapstone, wahrheit, and vern, for being so damn cool, making me feel so welcome, making me feel like a local. there is a huge chess community, and i feel like i’m part of it, and that is awesome.

next tournament in reno is in october, i hope i can make it. anyone who has the time and can make it should go, it is so worth it.

ok, now i gotta get ready for last vegas…

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…

chess, while my current obsession, is not my only interest. i also love cycling and mixed martial arts (MMA). where josh waitzkin went from chess champion to marital arts champion, i’ve gone from crappy enthusiast fighter (while living in japan i got into fighting) to crappy enthusiast chess player.

so last night i was watching the tv show TAPOUT about the clothing line that sponsors fighters, and it got me thinking “what if i mixed ideas from that and from cycling and applied those ideas to chess?”

i am going to make a HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY t shirt to wear to tournaments. i already give out stickers to anyone who wants them and many who don’t. well, what if i branded that, and started my own HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY team? and i could kinda be like the guys from TAPOUT and drive around looking for bad ass chess players and put them in the HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY stable. then, using methods from cycling, the chessplayers would train with super expensive high tech stuff. for example, they would play chess in a wind tunnel, so we could tweak their chess playing stance and get them as aerodynamic as possible to shave off time, preventing any time trouble errors and such. we would have carbon fiber chess sets, we would train in the mountains of france, it would be awesome. and during tournaments, they would wear a HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY jersey, all skin tight with pockets in the back to store packets of GU and a water bottle. and perhaps they would play chess with a bicycle helmet and a mouthguard. that would rock.

so i entered the 2007 western states open in reno, nevada. i really gave some thought as to what section to play in. i’m rated 1142, but i think i can play better. but since there is a large amount of money involved and this is a pretty big tournament, i would expect a number of sandbaggers playing. all things considered, i entered in the D section, 1200-1399. i figure this way i can play better people, if i can win three games my rating will jump, and overall, if i can win any i’ll be happy. i’ve beaten legitamate 1700’s before, why cant i win against some 1300s, or if they are sandbagging, some 1500s? i am not expecting to win the whole section (it would be pretty sweet if i did, i’m gonna try to) but i am not expecting to lose all my games either. then again, no matter what, i’m playing in reno, so i’ll have a blast no matter what.

i really want to play a game wearing a HUGE afro wig and a mouthguard.

i spent the weekend in tucson, arizona at the ye olde pueblo chess tournemnt, held at the holiday inn. same venue as the US amateur west 2007. saw some of the same folks, met more new ones, missed some from the last tournament (jeff the coach, hope you’re doing well). this tournament seemed more subdued, smaller, even though there was cash prizes involved as well as rating points. i would think the cash would draw more folks, but the US am west seemed like it drew more people.

for me, the theme of this event was “ratings.” it baffles me how placing some arbitrary number next to a name can evoke such a physical response. is he rates lower? then i should win, i have confidence, perhaps i am overconfident, if i lose it’s crushing. is he rated higher? i am intimidated, yet now i have a desire to prove myself, play strong, and take points. if i win i feel godlike, if i lose it’s not so bad, i mean, the number next to his name said i “should” lose. it’s weird how i/we start to judge people by the number next to thier name. i hear the prisoner right now, “i am not a number, i’m a free man.” i know, intellectually, not to worry about ratings, play the damn game, play the pieces not the opponent, play good chess and the ratings will come. by i see a number, my heart races faster for fear or excitement. i wonder, if you hooked up a chessplayer rated at 1600 to a heart machine and flashed numbers from 900 - 2200, just numbers, not telling him they mean anything, would he react?

it’s a 5 round tournament, 5 possible points, i plan on getting at least 4, hoping for 5. the first round was friday night, 7:00 p.m., so there were lots of buys, people had to travel, people with real jobs had to get off work, etc. i played. i figured, losing one extra game would give me that much more experience. overall it was a good tournament. smaller crowd, more serious, less of a festival atmosphere, more laid back in some ways.

DAY 1

friday night. i arrived, checked into the hotel, went down to make sure i was registered, and hung out waiting for the tournament to begin. watching a game, i overheard some kid ask another if he wanted to play. the kid didn’t, so i turned around and said “wanna play a game?”

kid’s name was kyle, him and his dad were in the tournament, they drove all the way from new mexico, he had been in town for the chess camp that just ended. we began, no clock, just an informal game, i was white. i saced a bishop (or maybe a knight, i forget) trading for a pawn to open the h file. his queen was all up in my grill, putting pressure on everything i had, but it was just a queen, no back up help, so i didn’t think there would be mate. he asked what section i was playing in, i explained the “under 1400 booster” section. he was playing in the open section, kid is in the 1700’s. super nice kid, he explains that i shouldn’t sac a piece on a attack that will go nowhere. how cool is that? he takes time to teach me, show me where i went wrong, he didn’t rub my face in it or point and laugh or make me feel stupid (which i can feel without anyone’s help) but he pointed out where i could be better, right when i needed it, where i wouldn’t forget. cool kid.   ( i didn’t see him last round, i assume they had to get back to santa fe and he took a bye.  i think he finished with 3 or 4 points).  some others gathered around and i think he got distracted, or perhaps he was being nice, but i won our little game.  now, this is before the tournament, it didn’t count, it was a warm up for us, a friendly game. holy crap, i won.  i am now afraid i used up all my chess for the night and i’m gonna lose. dammit!

standing around, i see a guy in an obnoxious orange hawaiian shirt. i look at him, he at me, and we shake hands. it’s wang. i finally meet someone from the chessblogosphere. we make plans to get a beer after the round.

Round 1 - i decided i willlive the HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY lifestyle and play violent, decive chess. so i meet my opponent, larry, an older guy. turns out it’s kyle’s dad. this is good, at least i get to lose to someone my age, and not get my ass kicked by a kid. the tournament begins, it is a mellow, calm feeling. since most people just arrived, it feels more informal, like a huge friday night chess club. i am white, i open with a queen’s pawn. last tournament all the kids played sicilian, i don’t feel like dealing with the sicilian, and also, all the tournament books i study of grandmaster games are mostly d4 openings, so for this tournament, i will only play d4 as white. it should rattle the little bastards and i feel comfortable with it. it’s a pretty even game, but on move 21 he blunders and i take his rook, the game ends a few moves later. i won my first round. hopefully this is a sign of how things will go.

later that night, me, my wife, and want head out to the surly wench for a beer. i promised wang i’d buy him one, and i’m a man of my word, and i want to celebrate my first win. honestly, i’m not much of a beer guy, i prefer wine, but i went with a beer that had a cool label, and it was a damn tasty beer, from ska brewing company called buster nut ale. wang is a fun, funny dude, and damn he knows chess. the guy KNOWS his stuff, and we have a lot in common, including a weakness for bookstores. the band was setting up, it was getting late, there was chess to be played the next day, so we called it a night.

DAY 2

Round 2. - i’m paired against a kid rated 200 points higher than me. kid’s name is ben hook, he has a strong confident handshake, he is a regular average kid. again i am white, i open with d4. i am playing strong, i am calclating his next move, the power in the game shifts between him and me and we are even. his queen threatens mate, my queen puts soe pressure on him, it’s a really really good game. i get up to go to the bathroom, and perhaps rather than giving me a fresh perspective on the game it broke my concentration, but somewhere around move 40 i fuck up. i move my knight for a tactical combination, he sees it and doesn’t fall for it. i planned to move my knight back, but instead i move a pawn and he takes my hanging en pris unprotected for no reason free knight. the amazing power of one piece. one piece up for him, down for me. it’s a slow progression down and i lose. but i am not upset, not at all. somewhere during the game, he told me he used to be a 1500 or something and should be playing up, but he hadn’t played in a year and he is now under 1400. again with the numbers. but i don’t mind losing because it was a good game, i played my best, i made an honest mistake that i should have been punished for, and i really liked this kid. i didn’t mind losing to him at all, i respected him as an opponent. i think he ended up with 4 points, and he deserved each one.

a few hours until the next round, everyone is reviewing and analysing thier games, studying for the next round, me and the wife go out to buy a new car. we know what we want, a good solid american car (toyota corolla. made in the usa, lasts 200,000 miles, gets 41 mpg. comes in electric blue). we go in, tell them we want to buy the car, we do the dance but thanks to car buying tips i use terms like 2% holdback and such, i sound like i know what i’m doing, i make an offer and they take it. does this mean i can write the check and leave? no. you can’t walk in, buy a car and leave, you have to wait for i don’t know what. this takes hours. more hours than i want or have. my wife explains i’m in a tournament and they need to hurry so i can get across town on time. as we wait, they all ask what kind of tournement i’m in. i say “chess tournement” and they look at me. i am wearing a t-shirt that says “arizona state prison: a gated community,” i have a chain wallet, batman logo chuck tayolor high top converse, and tattoos. i guess i don’t look like what they expected. they are nice about it though, they speed it up, we have enought time to drive fast back to the hotel, stopping for a hot dog (we hadn’t eaten and we were starving) and tired and a bit frazzled i am read for my next game.

Round 3 - i’m black, playing against josh pennock, the 10 year old son of one of the tournament organizers. another nice kid, freindly and happy. rated lower than me, but i watched him play a blitz game with a freind before the match, i have to be careful. he opens up with……d4! the ONLY kid i’ve seen open with d4. i like this kid, he is going places. i don’t play HARDCORE chess like i planned, i am tentative. he is cautious, and mid game, the board is locked up tighter than charles manson. i want to take a picture of the board. kid offers a draw, i decline, i want to see where this is going. the board has to be opened up somehow, i position my army and sally forth into the fray. i send some men foward to die clearing a path and opening up lines into the enemy camp. it gets bloody, back to violent decicive chess. i win. this kid is going to be good someday. the only kid i’ve seen play d4, just like the grandmaster’s play. i tell him so, for the rest of the tournament, when we see each other, he says hi, we ask how each other’s games are going. if he were 11 years older, i’d buy him a beer.

the game ends too late to catch the roller derby so me and the wife return to the surly wench to celebrate my second win and join in the after roller derby party (that it’s the roller derby bar). i have 2 points, if i win my next 2 games, i will be ecstatic, and i should win the next 2 games. a few ska brewing company beers later i’m tired, the rollerderby is just letting out and the girls won’t be here for another hour, so we leave. on the way out of the bar, my wife gives the doorman a HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY sticker for the front door, which he takes and sticks. awesome. we get back to the hotel, there had been a storm, everything is dark. they have been without electricity for 2 hours, which means some of the games had to be adjourned. i missed all the excitement and adventure cause i was drinking on the other side of town. wang was there though, so check his blog details on that adventure.

DAY 3

Round 4 - i’m playing black against a kid rated lower than me. i try not to look at the ratings, i can’t help it. i should win. kid walks in and i’ve seen him playing others, he is whiny about little niggling crap. he calls the TDs to complain about little things and is a stickler for the rules. during the game, he keeps writing moves down, erasing them, then thinking, THEN moving. i tell him he needs to move first, he says ok. then two moves later, he writes, thinks, moves. i tell him again, but i don’t get the TD. i don’t like this kid. i hate this kid. perhaps it’s the beers and late night, perhaps my disdain for this little fucktard, but i’m just moving pieces, i’m not even watching the game. i’m down and pissed. we trade off queens and rooks and i am up a rook and bishop to his rook, pawns are even. i’m gonna queen, he’s gonna queen, i fuck up with my bishop and he takes it and i lose and he wins. the little fuck. i am PISSED. for a few reasons:
1. he is rated lower, he really isnt’ that good, i am a better chess player than he is, i should have won.
2. my fucking rating is going down. i should have played better chess, i hate myself, i am embarrassed.
3. i don’t respect my opponent. i don’t like the kid. he has to resort to complaining to cover his lack of chess skills, but then he “cheats” constantly. this kid will burn in the deepest circles of chess hell for his chess sins. and i lost to him.

this loss ruins my day and my stomach burns and knots all day about it. i won’t get over this for a while. i don’t even want to play the next round.

Round 5 - last round. whatever, i don’t care. i don’t deserve to be called a chess player, not after last game’s abortion. i’m tired, i’m drained. i’ve played 4 whole games of chess. over three days. that is NOT a grueling schedule. but i’m not the only one feeling it. jessica, a cool chick i’ve seen play, she is in the 1500’s or so, says she is withdrawing and not playing the last round. others are not showing up. fuck it, one more game, let’s get it over with.

i look at the pairings. oh no. i’m playing the little kid i beat last tournament, he is rated higher than me (still, but lower than last time) and he is the kid who’s mom was angry at him. i go to the board, his mom and him are there. i smile and say a freindly “hi” and the mom glares are me. she is trying to kill me with her eyes. he smiles but it’s a smile of fear. his mom bends down and speaks in chinese to him, pointing at me. his mom hates me, and i think she is threatening him if he loses to me. i feel so bad for this kid. the game begins, he is trying to be tough and strong. i am smiling and trying to be freindly and gentle and meek. this is crazy, it’s a fucking game that means nothing. to me. to him, i think it means his parent’s love, his future. how much pressure does this 10 year old have on him? he is going to have an ulcer by 15. he’s already lost, its just a matter of moving the pieces to prove it. i am white and open with d4. a few moves later, i make what i think is an obvious attack on a pice, he doens see it, i take a bishop and a rook for a horse. he is down. we play on, it gets down to his king a a few pawns against my queen and a queening pawn. he is beat but he can’t resign. i am tired and don’t want to play, the game is over, but he plays on. is he making me work for it? maybe. i admire and pity him. on one hand, he is playing it to the end, never giving up, fighting on. on the other hand, he doesn’t want to, he is compelled to. he looks at me and smiles, the smile of someone who is dying of cancer and knows they have about an hour left to live. i have two queens, he is mated. i tell him he played very good, i tell him in 10 years he will be a master, if not a grand master. he says “no.” i ask if he likes chess, he says “yes, but…” and stops. i tell him not to worry, he is smart and a good player, i don’t know what else to say. i’m not happy with my win, i feel bad about beating this kid. i want to slap his mom.

the tournament is over, for me anyway. me and wang watch two masters play. wang points stuff out to me, i learn from him, he know’s his shit. i have 3 points, i’ll finish in the top 15 of my section. i should be happy, i won more than 50% of my games. my rating should stay the same, maybe go up a point or two. dammit, i should have beat that little fuck. if i won that game, i’d have 4 points, (the winner of my section will have 4.5 points) and my rating would have been better. i lost because *I* lost. i played bad chess. no one’s fault but mine. dammit.

overall, i had fun. i made some new freinds, i met wang. go read his blog. here , for his take and spin on the event. the atmosphere was more relaxed, “professional,” it seemed only the true chess players, the hardcore chess players, were there.

mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. i didn’t get a chance to interview a master, they were always playing or not around, so as a wanna-be semi-legit chess blogger/journalist/enthusiast i failed.

thanks to the tournament dirctors and organizers, they put in a lot of work, dealt with a blackout as best they could, shuffled schedules and times, and were always helpful and freindly. if you ever have the time and can, come out to tucson for a tournament.

i look forward to the next tournament, wherever it may be.

the hotel lobby is buzzing, there are kids running all over, chess moms and chess dads carrying snacks and totebags and books, chess coaches giving last minute tips. some people are walking around with a tense excitement, others are walking around with a “same old drill” look, almost bored, then there is me, with a stupid grin and the lost look of an immagrant to a seriously alien country about my face.

day one
saturday morning, i got in the night before, checked in, and went out for coffee at “the safehouse,” the hippest coffee shop in tucson. bikers and punks and artists and writers, my tattoos and chain wallet blend in and i am welcome with a smile and sarcastic wit. we drink our coffee, hang out, and go back to the hotel. i am wired from numerous cups of extra strength coffee and excitement for the next day. mixed with the kids running up and down the hall and michal fucking flately practicing his riverdance moves in the room above me, i manage a solid 1 /12 hours sleep.

after a super tasty breakfast at franks, we go back to the hotel for round one. i am super tired, but i have many games of drunken chess under my belt, i should be able to play decently with little thinking. i was wrong.

i find out that i could get 1/2 point for every bye, and i can have as many byes as i want. this means i can get 6 byes, one for each game, not play, and end up with more points than if i play every game. awesome. too late though, i am here to play me some chess.

round 1
as tired as i am, i con myself into thinking i am ready. there was some confusion as my board had two sets of guys assigned to it, so they moved us to another board and the game commenced. my first opponnent was a quiet kid who didn’t look happy to be playing me. i was white, he played the sicilian, i was going to play a wing gambit or the grand prix attack, but i said fuck it and made up my own crappy opening, and he handed me my ass in 16 short moves. i resigned and he looked surprised. thing is, i could have dragged it out but i was tired and wanted to go back to my room. i’m not taking anything away from him though, he played strong, better than me, he earned and deserved the win.

round 2
round 2 we find out there will be a huge fiesta (this is tucson, people drive up from mexico to celebrate weddings and quinceaneras) and there will also be some kind of casino night going on, so the ever flexible and quick thinking tds make arrangements and move us into smaller, hotter, smellier rooms. sweatshop chess. i consider them cozy and intimate. tds are extrememly friendly, patient and helpful and make things run as smoothly as they can. people are all walking around lost, trying to find where they will play, eventually we find the boards and the second round commences.

second game was against an 11 year old. i was black. game lasted longer, i was feeling a bit fresher, frisky, and felt like sacing everything in sight. he won, of course, out played me, and did a great job.

day one down, i’ve lost both games, both to two kids. time to go drink at the surly wench which is the best bar in tucson. another place i belong. that is where the roller derby girls hang out. and this ends my first day of my first chess tournament ever.

two losses under my belt, i feel warmed up and i want to play right now this very second, i’m sure i would come close to possibly stealing a win from someone. i am excited about about playing chess, i’m having a great time, i can’t wait for tomorrow.

day 2

i wake up, tired. the enthusiasm i had seemed to have been sucked out over night, perhaps by an enthusiasm vampire. i dont feel like going down to the chess hall for further humiliation, but fuck it, that is why i’m here, isnt’ it? i drag my sorry ass downstairs for another whooping. we are back in the main chess room and will be for the rest of the tournament.

the lobby is abuzz, everyone is playing quick practice games with each other, parents and coaches are watching and reviewing. it almost smacks of child abuse, like kiddie beauty pagents are child abuse (kiddie beauty pagents are sick and should be illegal actually, at least chess is nothing like that). some of the kids don’t look happy, they look like they are being forced into it by parents. yesterday at the pool, some kids said they wanted to swim, thier parents said “no, you have to practice.” a bit sad.

round 3

i’m at the table with all the other guys who didn’t win. my opponent is a happy freindly 10 year old asian kid. great, now i get to lose to a 10 year old. at least he seems happy. i’m playing black, i fuck up the opening, he is about to end my pain. i am thinking what a waste it will be when i throw out all my chess books. fuck it, i will play it to the end. somehow, the kid goofs, i end up pushing a pawn and i mate him. holy crap. i think i won. yep, i won. a small glimmer of hope twinkles deep in my dark heart.

outside, i thank him. i tell his mom and coach he played really well, i got lucky. his mom is angry at him, his coach is angry at him. his mom says “you didn’t get lucky, he played bad and let you get lucky.” i thank her and quickly back away. poor kid.

ok, maybe it will be a better day. i am ready for the next game, but that is hours away. while everyone else is in thier rooms, analyzing, preparing, studying, i hit the town, get some food, hang out at the mall, go back to my room, read a book, take a nap. perhaps i should be studying.

i walk around handing out HARDCORE PAWNOGRAPHY stickers, pimping out my chess blog. turns out lots of chess players don’t know about chess blogs. also turns out lots of parents think i am trying to sell porn or something. only a few people laugh at the title and realize it’s about chess without explanation. some, with explanation, still think it’s about porn.

round 4

i know i am playing white, i am ready. my opponent is a sad looking 16 year old. poor kid. i try to make some jokes, cheer the kid up, he looks mortified. i play my e4, kid plays c5, i play knight to f3 to lull him into the false sense of security, then whatever he played, i came out with b4. WING GAMBIT! freaked him out, he was confused, didnt’ know what to do. i end up with a strong french-like center, i am looking good, kid is freaking out. about 25 moves later, i lose. kid still doesnt seem happy, even though he won. i want to cheer the kid up, tell him “hey, kid, at least your not me” but i dont’ think he would get it. i thank him and go back to my room, dejected and wondering why i am torturing myself, why don’t i just go home now.

what the fuck?!?!? my friend is a uscf rated 1710. i have beaten him three times and come really close twice. if i can play that good, why am i losing to kids rated under 1400?

i make my way to the skittles room and get my game analyzed by FM danny Rensch, who is there to analyze games for anyone who wants. he shows me how i fucked up, and now i know. it was pretty cool. next time, i will know what to do. i think i learned something. awesome. i ask him for an interview, he agrees. he is a super freindly guy, patient, humble, smart. you see how much he loves chess in the way he explains things to and teaches the younger kids. the guy is awesome. *

day 3

tucson. shit. still only in tucson. (apocolypse now fans are with me on this one) . last day of the loserpalooza i am forced to endure. i just want to end this hapless charade and go home and drink about it on the couch. over breakfast at the bagle shop, i am talking with my wife and it hits me. ok, if you watch the tv show “heros” there is the chick, jessica, and her inner bad ass nikki. well, i have an inner bad ass tal, and i can feel it when he “comes out.” say what you want, think i’m nuts, i feel it sure as i feel it when i hit my toe in the dark. it’s when i’m “on” anyway, it hits me, and i manage to turn it on. i am ready to destroy whoever i play this morning. bring on the victim.

round 5

i learn that there is a rule that says black gets to choose what side the clock goes on. YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! you mean that there has to be a rule for that?!?!?! are chess players that socially retarded that two adults can’t come to an agreement on what side a clock is on without it being in the rules? wow.

my opponent is another 10 year old asian kid. rated 1204. i’m black and i’m aggressive, he is up on material shortly, and he is mated shortly. my nickname for this tournament should be SARS, as i am deadly against the asian kids. i have won 2 games. if i can win my next game, i will have won 50% of my first ever tournament. i am ready.

while everyone else is fritzing and analyzing and preparing, i go out shopping and eating. this may be one reason i lose a lot, but there it is. i am still ready for my last game, but i feel my “on” dimming.

round 6

i am ready, i am white, i am finally playing an older guy. i feel it. he will lose. i open aggressivley, i get him sweating. i missed a tactic that i see as soon as i remove my fingers from the piece i just moved, but i have him on the ropes. i let him trade my rook for his queen stupidly, as again after i removed my fingers from the piece i see the correct move. i needed that rook. no worries, i have a queen and a knight, he has two rooks and a knight, i am in his back yard, i miss a mate, but that’s ok, he is cowering in the corner. he threatens my queen, i move her to the exact wrong square. i saw the square i wanted to move her to, my eye-hand coordination seemed to take a bye on that move, cause i moved the queen onto the sqaure so his horse could take her. i put my queen on the wrong square. i wrote my move down and tipped my king. i lost. i should have won, but i lost. my first tournament is over.

overall i had a great time. the tds, Karen Pennock, Enrique Huerta (hope i spelled that right) and Jon Shacter were each super freindly, helpful, patient, and did an outstanding job putting the whole thing together, managing the rooms, being flexible, everything. there may have been some grumbling with the room moving, but they handled it smoothly. it was like herding cats for them, and they did it with smiles and sincere love of chess. they rock.

i met some great guys, jeff the coach, rich, troy, and others whose names i cause i am stoooopid. i hope to see them at the next tournament. i played much crappier than i expected, i hate myself for that, but now that i know what to expet and what it’s like, i think i may do a bit better. i should have won 4 games, but at least i won 2 games. i won’t know my provisional rating until later this week.

in closing, i’d like to leave with an open letter to chess parents.

dear chess parents,

LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP. let your kids be kids some of the time. if they naturally want to play chess 13 hours a day, great, but cut them some freaking slack. forcing them into a such a rigourous program and making them play may make them grand masters by age 19, but you are seriously risking having a socially retarded kid who turns out the be the next bobby fischer, in both chess skills and craziness.

*i will post the interview with FM Rensch tomorrow.