The Old Man's Handshake

Inspiration is not an often guest these days, while being stuck at home once again…

The mechanism of my posts coming to life used to be: play a tournament, come home, rest some days, get on a plane again (preferably on a window seat, with my huge and not so pretty looking headphones on). That was the moment I liked to sketch my posts the most- in those few hours in the air! To get at least a taste of that ‘in the air feeling’ I had to find those dusty headphones, pour myself a glass of Merlot and lay back on the chair… With a little exercise of imagination, I can almost hear the stewardess asking if I want a cheese or ham sandwich. “Chess please, oh cheese I mean, a tomato juice and a glass of dry red wine!”. That was exactly how my trip to Spain started last month.

I know, I was meant to write about my ‘German League’ experiences first, but the on ground inspiration had a different plan, so let it be Spain!

To start with the beginning, I was one of those who has taken every occasion to travel and play chess during this ‘pandemic’ period. Call it risky or not, I felt my health was being damaged more if just staying another few months at home, so when the opportunity came to play in the “Division de Honor” in Linares (!), I didn’t think twice and took it!

I’ve been to Spain only 3 or 4 times before and all were either short stays or so long ago that nearly forgotten (except that tapas bar in La Linea- see the “The Life of a Chess Player” posts for details Link to the post ). Being so excited, I even planned my trip so to arrive 2 days early. When landing in Malaga and coming out of the airport to wait for my bus I was already a happy person! Yes, I was happy to have had 2 different 2h flights, to wait for another 2h for the bus and then to travel for another 5h with it to my destination! If you think that’s sarcasm, just ask the stewardess for a wine refill and think it over!

The Malaga airport is like a dear friend to me, as the only times I used it were on the trips to my beloved Gibraltar tournament. The first thing to do after picking up the suitcase was to order a “cortado” and feel like the luckiest person ever while sipping it!

Linares is a small city in the Andalucía region, but one full of chess tradition. Every chess player knows about it because of the ‘all stars’ tournament used to be held there for many years in a row. My excitement was even higher when realizing I’d be staying at the chess hotel which hosted Kasparov, Karpov, Ivanchuk and all the other ‘legends’! As one of my teammates later noted, “You could be sleeping on the bed Garry did!”. I am not sure this is a thought people usually share, but blame it on the ‘on ground inspiration’…

The tournament started with a surprise. While having lunch with my team, I was told I’d probably face only 2 or 3 women out of the 7 games… I wrongly assumed it was a women’s board I had to play on, but the rules were so that the one lady in the team could actually play on any board. I was not sure if those were good or bad news…

Won the 1^st game vs an IM with some inspired play. In the second round I had the black pieces vs a GM. Confused my lines and got a ‘classical’ worse Rauzer position. I remember thinking during the game how could I get into that position, after playing my whole life exactly how my opponent did… But, I was wearing my fuchsia jacket, I was falling in love with Spain more and more every day and I felt there were no problems I could not cope with! My opponent started playing uninspired, I on the other hand was more precise than ever and got to a winning 3 on 3 pawn endgame. Then, in the hit of the battle, I took my jacket off and spoiled it… Draw. I’m not superstitious, these are just perfectly logical facts.

Later, at dinner, everyone was trying to cheer me up- “It was not so easy!”, “You played really well, it happens”, “Don’t worry!”… Finally, they convinced me it was just an accident and I was joking again. I must say that I always knew that Spanish people were friendly and opened, but the first time I experienced it was in Linares! Even though not all my teammates spoke English, the atmosphere was great every day! We were having all the meals together except breakfast (‘Garry’s bed’ was too good of a companion) and no language barrier could stop us from talking! How many interesting life stories I discovered there! Even after I lost 3 games in a row (all long fighting games vs strong opponents, but anyway- ‘long castling’ is never nice) nothing changed. Well, almost nothing. I remember that evening, at dinner, the team’s captain- a man in his 70s came from the bar with a glass of whisky. Nothing strange so far, until he stopped next to me and offered me the glass saying “The best whisky!”. I knew it was time to start winning again.

The team’s goal was to keep our spot in the League (two clubs out of 8 were going down). We were not doing well and with just 2 rounds to go, our only chance was to win both matches, one vs the lowest rated team and the other one vs one of the strongest…

On the next day I finally won and the score was 5,5-0,5. Step 1 completed! During the dinner after, everyone was calculating who and how should play… I would have had black vs a GM I played once before, many years ago. The captain told me “Draw is fine tomorrow”. I said “OK” and on the next day I played the Najdorf. Had a fine game and won in style! The team won 4-2 and we kept our spot in the “Division de Honor” (always liked how it’s called!) !

At the final dinner, everyone was very happy, though if to compare to the other evenings, not much was changed- we were all talking & laughing like we were doing the whole tournament! The captain was a bit late. When he arrived, he approached me, and just shook my hand with a smile looking directly into my eyes.

The feeling was overwhelming; I remember it like it was yesterday… I felt like I was given the handshake for which I longed for so many years when remembering the man who taught me how to play chess- my grandfather.

This experience is priceless to me and all I can add is “Thank you, Spain!”.

 

The Leagues Dispute

With the most discussed topic of these days being whether chess players should be able to play in more than one National Team Championship, I thought to begin a new series of posts which are to describe my experiences playing in Leagues all across Europe.

I consider myself a lucky chess professional. Over the last 10 years, I have played for clubs in many countries, among them Germany, UK, France, Turkey, Greece and many others, including my own- Romania. I have met different people with all kind of values and traditions, each unique in their own way. I like to think about it as of a ‘University of Leagues’. Each ‘course’ had its ‘good’ or ‘bad’ professors and they all have taught me valuable lessons!

It is very difficult for me to understand the idea behind the FIDE President’s statement that chess players should be forbidden to play in more than one League…

It feels strange to even have to explain it, as it seems rather obvious that this idea is totally unfeasible. While it makes sense in sports like football, hockey, handball, where the season is divided in matches to be played all year long, every week or so, in chess- a League has from 7 to 11 rounds usually. These games are being played during the same amount of days. Therefore, the math is very simple- if a League has 9 rounds- there are 9 days of competition. Many professionals play in a few Leagues during a year in order to make a living, as 10 days of work out of 365 are obviously not enough. Let’s say you have 3 or 4 leagues, that would mean 36 days of work- still not enough, right? That’s why there are official tournaments like Individual and Team National, Continental and World Championships where if one’s good enough, he can represent his country and add another 40-50 working days to his calendar. Ok, it makes for 86 pay days. What about the other 280? Well, everyone has his own approach- one plays a commercial tournament per month, where he earns money only if playing well, others prefer to train hard and play less but aim for the ‘jack pot’ in the higher mentioned official events.

If one is lucky enough to be from a country with chess tradition, he might hope for some support from the National Federation, of course, if he’s good enough to be in the Top5 of the country… 95% of the chess players (or even more) do not make this category and the countries which support the chess players seriously can be count on the fingers anyway… This means that if you’re not top 5-10 (best case) in Russia, USA, China and maybe a very few others you have to find a way to make a living with aprox. 86 ‘certain’ pay days per year… While no one has been complaining about it because sport is sport and we all understand that not being an Olympic one, we have to do with less funding than other sports it is absolute non sense to make it even worse for the average professional chess player. 86 pay days per year is very little but if you make it 46 then it will become an amateur and elite sport only… Is this what FIDE wants? I am utterly puzzled by this idea…

But enough with numbers and unnecessary explanations, this series of posts is meant to describe funny, sad, inspiring and disappointing, but all invaluable experiences which I got by playing in Europe’s biggest and smallest Nations Leagues.

Course 1- Germany

To be continued…

D, My Friend

10 000 feet above the ground, I gaze through the window to only see dark clouds and little lights somewhere far... Everything seems so insignificant from above...

A Russian ballad starts playing in my headphones; it’s a sad but somewhat hopeful one. The lyrics are touching and I feel tears building up slowly in my eyes. The heart starts trembling and no strange faces I make can stop those tears... But it’s dark, the lights are far, I can let it be...

 

There are so many things I like that’ve started to make me feel this way lately, since...

While at a nice beach, while playing some English Attack variation, while hearing a joke, while having a beer with friends, while reading a nice poem, while thinking what opening to choose late in the night, while feeling the Spanish sun...

I can only give in to this sadness, I don’t even want to fight it. I just try to pick up crumbles from the so many memories and remember every bit of them, trying to relive them again, and again, and...

Some bad turbulences start. It was stormy when the plane took off.

 I am not scared, I haven’t been for a long while now... I have had a good life and death is not something I fear of. I think of it as of an always present companion. Every now and then, when I feel like having a heart full conversation and there are no friends around, we talk. It can be calming, even enlightening sometimes... Maybe we’ve even become friends? Perhaps... I never judge you, we have understanding and respect, I enjoy our conversations- isn’t it the recipe for friendship?

We sometimes briefly touch each other- as a sign of mutual appreciation. There are times I even feel like hugging you, just to let you know all will be fine and you’re not alone, but... There are hugs you only think of... Who knows what “they” would think of it? Not that it matters, not to me at least...

The lights are coming closer and you’re slipping away...

I am so calm, powerful... I am not alone and I feel hope again. And that’s always been how you’ve made me feel...

Until next time dear companion, dear friend, D...