Author Archives: Peter Andrews

About Peter Andrews

Captain, Kingston first team in the Surrey League. Keen on cricket. Former central banker.

Kingston 1 crush champions Epsom to ignite Surrey season

Kingston 1 v Epsom 1, Surrey League division 1 match played at the Willoughby Arms, Kingston, on 11 November 2024

The clash of the 2022/23 and 2023/24 Surrey division 1 champions promised to be a critical match in the 2024/25 season, and there was a real sense of occasion, Epsom having brought additional players to take part in our regular rated friendlies, and with a gaggle of home spectators there to support us (I am grateful to FM Vladimir Li for his impressions as the games were in progress).

The line-ups revealed that Kingston would have a rating advantage on every board, but the differences on boards 1 and 3 were small, and (after the toss had to be repeated because my lightweight 20p coin escaped behind the Willoughby’s heating system; I was more careful with the pound used for the replay) Epsom would have White on the odd boards, so those boards were likely to be critical.

None of the opening phases suggested much advantage for either side in any game. But there was a sudden finish on board 6. Luca Buanne and Chris Wright had reached a tense queenless middle game when Chris miscalculated, and Luca quickly won decisive material.

Next to finish was board 7, where Peter Hasson had Black against Epsom president Marcus Gosling. Peter had hoped to make something out of a flaw in White’s pawn structure, but after the major pieces were exchanged on the open a-file, White was able to straighten the pawns out, leaving a blocked position in which progress could not be made. This was the final position, with White set to recapture Black’s light-squared bishop.

By this stage we seemed to have a clear advantage on board 4, and probable advantages on boards 2 and 8, the other games in which we had White. Even with David Maycock apparently under some pressure against IM Graeme Buckley on board 1 (although analysis subsequently showed that the position was just level but difficult for both sides), Peter Lalić’s draw with Black on board 3 v Zain Patel was therefore a good result. Against strong juniors, small rating advantages do not mean much. Peter steered into the sort of queenless middle game with which he is more familiar than most of us, and did have one momentary opportunity on move 17.

Epsom played the French Defence on three of their four black boards. The Kingston players had three different responses, all of them successful. In David Rowson’s game on board 8, the kings castled on opposite wings, and after his opponent’s 30th move David was ready with a crushing pawn sacrifice.

On board 4, Mike Healey took a different approach against James McCarthy, offering an early gambit. Mike has annotated this characteristically imaginative and dynamic game in the Games section, but we will show the denouement here. We join the action after Black’s 22nd move, Ba4, giving White a decision. Mike’s choice was spectacular. Standing back with the benefit of hindsight, what made it work? The black pawn on f7 is overloaded, defending the pawn on e6 and the hole on g6 which are both under fire. Black’s queen’s bishop, which might have defended those squares, is absent on a queenside raid. White’s king’s bishop might also appear to be absent on the queenside, but even from b1 it can attack the hole. Fasten your seatbelts.

The last three games finished almost simultaneously. Peter Large showed a third contrasting response to the French Defence on board 2 against Susan Lalić. Where David Rowson and his opponent had castled on opposite sides and pushed pawns against their opponent’s king, Peter and Susan castled on opposite sides and pushed pawns in front of the own king; counter-intuitive but equally good for White.

Perhaps as might be expected in a game between two such strong players, there were few significant mistakes, as measured by jumps in the computer evaluation. White won because he was able to develop his initiative on the kingside while Black’s on the other wing was blocked. In this position below, after Black’s 21st move, the player with White following the standard recipe of opening files against the enemy king might have tried b3. But this loses White’s advantage; after 21. b3 cxb3 22. Bxb3 Nb6, Black can get a knight to c4, which matters more than the open file. Instead 21. f5 was the key breakthrough.

So Kingston had won all four games with White. What of the remaining games in which our players had Black? On board 5, IM John Hawksworth had Black against FM and former British champion Peter Lee, a measure of the quality in depth of Surrey League chess these days. The latter played an enterprising pawn sacrifice 11. b4 in the position below, aiming to play against the weak pawn on d6.

That draw made it four wins with White and three draws with Black. The last game to finish, and the hardest to evaluate in play, was the board 1 match-up between IM Graeme Buckley v hungry wannabe David Maycock. The opening was characterised by masterly play on both sides which created an imbalance: Black had an extra pawn, but at the price of a broken kingside structure which would allow White attacking chances. White was faced with a critical choice at move 25.

With two extra passed pawns on the queenside and a time advantage, David converted smoothly, the only winner with the black pieces on the night. It gave Kingston a margin of victory which seems flattering given how tense the games were. Early matches this season suggest that home advantage is considerable, and the race may be close, so it is useful to have put a strong net run rate/goal difference in the bank.

Peter Andrews, Kingston captain in Surrey League division 1

Kingston 1 draw at Coulsdon in epic encounter

Coulsdon 1 v Kingston 1, Surrey League division 1 match played at Coulsdon on 21 October 2024

Our Surrey League division 1 season started with an away match at Coulsdon. On paper we had a modest rating advantage on most of the boards, but Coulsdon invariably field a crop of fast-rising juniors, rendering such comparisons unreliable. Peter Large, John Hawksworth, Ash Stewart and Jasper Tambini made their league debuts for Kingston; congratulations and many thanks to all of them.

In the early skirmishes, Peter Lalić (pictured above) quickly gained a winning advantage against Timur Kuzhelev on board 4. The critical position came after 11. Rg5.

Board 7 saw Black fall into an opening trap in the Giuoco Piano. Unfortunately the setter of the trap was a 12-year-old uniformed schoolboy, and the victim was our own seasoned veteran David Rowson.

There was more bad news on board 3, where Ash Stewart’s opponent gained a massive amount of space in the centre and also won the exchange. The games on boards 5 and 6 were well-contested battles but always looked like being draws, so we would have to make a plus out of boards 1, 2 and 8.

I stood objectively better for most of my game, against a rather older junior, but it could easily have gone wrong. We join the action after 16 moves. I had played 16. Bh3, aiming at the hole on e6 and the rook on c8, but deserting the defence of e4. Black had responded with 16…c4, leaving both sides with a bewildering choice of pawn captures.

On board 2, it had seemed for some time that John Hawksworth had a slight edge against our Thames Valley League clubmate Supratit Banerjee, playing against an isolated queen’s pawn in a Queen’s Gambit Declined set-up. But in trying to turn that into something concrete, he ran short of time and of plans. Supratit combines a fine instinct for where the pieces should go, which reminded John of the 1980s Michael Adams, with resourcefulness and a very quick sight of the board, and took control, eventually putting one of John’s knights in a fatal pin.

So we needed a win from Peter Large on board 1, playing Black against Rahul Babu, who, with an ECF rating of 2298, is now England’s number 6 rated under-18 (Supratit is number 8 on that list). Peter rebutted a dodgy-looking innovation in the Closed Sicilian, and already had a slight edge when the critical position arose after 23. Qa1.

So a well-contested match finished 4-4. Several of the sides in this division do not always travel well, and it may be difficult for some of the juniors to play an away match finishing at 10.30pm (are we clutching at straws here?). But it confirms that the title race is wide open. Coulsdon look credible challengers, after Epsom won in 2023/24 and Guildford had been our main challengers in 2022/23.

* In case anyone is waiting in suspense for Peter Lalić’s finish: 17. Rg8+ Ke7 18. Bg5 pinned and won the black queen. If you failed to spot it, console yourself that Peter’s opponent, who presumably also missed it, is rated around 2100.

Peter Andrews, Kingston captain in Surrey League division 1

My favourite player: Peter Andrews on Svetozar Gligorić

The second of an occasional series in which Kingston members and friends of the club choose the player who has most inspired them. Illustration by Theo Esposito Bennett

Like many partially prepared exam students and politicians, my entry into this series on favourite players answers the question I choose to answer, rather than the one suggested by the examiner. As a child (in chess terms) of the early 1970s, I admired Bobby Fischer, who seemed to play the best and most exciting games, and broke the apparent monopoly of the eastern bloc on top-level chess. But he was not the player, or rather writer, who most strongly influenced my development.

Svetozar Gligorić was born in Belgrade in what had recently become Yugoslavia in 1923. He learned to play chess at the age of about 11 from a boarder in his mother’s house. The family was poor, and his mother disapproved of chess, so he carved his first set with a razor blade out of pieces of cork. During the second world war he joined the Yugoslav partisan army, and ended the war – when he was still only 22 – with the rank of captain and two medals.

He became a journalist, both as a writer, in Serbo-Croat and later in English, and as a broadcaster for Radio Belgrade. Despite his professional career, he was able to become a grandmaster in 1951. He won the Yugoslav championship on 12 occasions, and reached the Candidates tournaments in 1953, 1959 and 1968. Although he progressed no further in world championship cycles, he did have some individual successes against the elite: +4 -6 =8 v Fischer, for example, and +6 -8 =28 against Vasily Smyslov, a near contemporary. Gligorić was known for sportsmanship, sympathy and integrity. He was a rare player able to have good relations with Fischer, perhaps after showing kindness towards the raw 16-year-old at his first Candidates in 1959, and in 2019 Fide named its fair play award after him. He died in 2012 in Belgrade, aged 89.

How did Gligoric influence my chess? In my early teens, I had very few chess books, and none on openings. So unsurprisingly, although I had been primary school champion of Southampton at the age of eight, I improved very slowly by today’s standards. Hampshire was still in the Southern Counties Chess Union in the early 1970s (it had moved to the West of England Chess Union by 1974). Rather strangely, it happened that the 1971 SCCU championships were held in Bournemouth, a remote corner of the southern counties, which enabled me to tie for the under-14 championship with a rating of not much over 1600 in modern terms; all the far stronger London juniors of the same age were presumably deterred by travel distance and accommodation costs.

My prize was Gligorić’s Selected Chess Masterpieces, a collection of his monthly articles for the American periodical Chess Review (his name is spelt Gligorich in the book, but I prefer to use the more common spelling). With very few chess books to read, I devoured this new one, and soon realised that it was an unusual and remarkable book.

Gligorić was noted for his own deep expertise in the King’s Indian Defence, but he brought the same thoroughness to the opening phase of all the games he presented. He would comment on individual moves by reference to multiple games played in other recent tournaments, which for me at that age was a more effective way of learning mainstream lines than seeing a specialist opening book with tabulated variations; my memory followed the logic of the games.

Sometimes these annotations were taken to extremes; he gave 1. e4 an exclamation mark in Larsen-Portisch, Porech 1968, commenting: ”In the middle stage of the match, Larsen came to the conclusion that he could not do much against Portisch’s excellent preparations for the Queen’s Gambit. So here he starts with the king pawn once more in the most important game of the match, even though the open systems are not his forte”. And he commented extensively on each of White’s first five moves in a game starting 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. d3 Na5 5. Nge2 Nxc4. In the very next game in the book, Keres-Schmid, Bamberg 1968, he gave Keres, who normally played 1. e4, an exclamation mark for 1. d4, to avoid Lothar Schmid’s French defence. I remember thinking that even I could earn an exclamation mark or two if that was the standard.

This was the peak period for the poisoned pawn variation in the Najdorf Sicilian. Juniors like me were imitating Fischer and playing it with either colour. So I very much enjoyed the following two games from the book, played around six months apart. In the first game, Fischer, who had already won the tournament, came unstuck against Efim Geller, in a game played in Monte Carlo in 1967.

A few months later, IM Rajko Bogdanovic repeated the line for Black against Mikhail Tal, who was ready with an improvement.

There was real excitement for me – we might nowadays call it a sense of jeopardy – in the idea that in these very sharp positions the evaluation was unclear (in the days before computers, of course), and new discoveries could be made which would change the result. But what if Black did not go for the poisoned pawn? Gligorić showed a brilliancy in ostensibly a quieter line.

Here is the 1959 Candidates game cited by Gligorić. Fischer was only 16 at the time, but even so, it confirms that Gligorić was no mug. Characteristically, he was too modest to mention in Selected Chess Masterpieces that he had won the game, although g4 would have been less likely to become part of the canon had he not done so.

Those sorts of games appealed greatly to me. So when in May 1974, in a tournament at Bournemouth, by now rated about 1850, I sat down opposite Marshall Thompson, then the champion of Hampshire, rated 2180 having been 2200 for several years, I knew what to do when he played down the Parma-Bogdanovic line.

That was the most exciting game I had ever played. The time limit was 42 moves in 1¾ hours, and I recorded that at the end my opponent had half a minute remaining for seven moves, while I had less than 10 minutes. That was time trouble by my standards at that age, and I recall in my excitement banging the coffee cup at my right hand rather than the clock at my left, to the mirth of the crowd of spectators which had gathered round the board.

The round was played in the morning, and as a hungry teenager I raced off to get some lunch before the afternoon round. When I arrived back in the tournament hall half an hour later, I found Thompson still analysing the game with the remaining spectators. The rest was anti-climax. In the afternoon, I played a boring draw on the black side of an English with a 1750-rated player. And it was infuriating that Thompson’s grade had just slipped below 200 (in old money, 2200 now). It was nearly six years before I managed to beat someone of that strength, and by then I was 2100 myself so there was not the same underdog triumph about it.

Unfortunately, by the mid-1970s, perhaps influenced by a crushing win by Spassky against Fischer in the 1972 match, fewer players chose the Najdorf with Black, and players on the White side were playing less critical lines against it. In more humdrum lines the Gligorić book was less help, and my progress stalled. But its impact at a time when I was starting to play stronger adult opposition was unforgettable.

Peter Andrews (Surrey) v Christopher Skulte (Middlesex)

Played at All Saints Church, Childs Hill, London NW2 on 24 February 2024 on board 14 in the SCCU Open category county match between Middlesex and Surrey

This was a game of high drama played in a crucial encounter between Middlesex and Surrey. Middlesex had home advantage and a substantial ratings plus, but the Surrey players performed superbly and ran out winners in the 16-board match by 9.5 to 6.5. That meant Surrey ended the regional stage of the county championships top of the table, unbeaten on 6/6, and progressed to the quarter-finals against qualifiers from other regions. This was a rollercoaster encounter between Peter Andrews (pictured), playing for Surrey, and his Middlesex counterpart Christopher Skulte. Peter said he felt dizzy by the end, while Chris admitted there were times in the game when he found it difficult to breathe. Remind me why we play chess when we could be relaxing on a Saturday afternoon.

Depleted Kingston spring surprise at Wimbledon

Wimbledon 1 v Kingston 1, Surrey League division 1 match played at St Winifride’s Church Hall, Wimbledon on 15 February 2024

Confidence in advance of this match was not high, given the depleted team we were able to field: Thursday is an inconvenient evening for several regulars, and illness took out Vladimir Li and Julian Way in the 24 hours before the match. Some team-mates thought our situation resembled that of Henry V before Agincourt:

O that we had now here But one ten thousand of those men in England that do no work today. What’s he that wishes so? …. The fewer men the greater share of honour.

That was perhaps an exaggeration: Kingston Chess Club does not yet have 10,000 members; Nick Grey and Charlie Cooke, stepping in at short notice, ensured we had as many players as Wimbledon; and the ratings of the two sides were almost equal. But if the thought helped stiffen our sinews it was a good one.

Charlie Cooke faced an uphill battle on board 8 with Black against the higher-rated John Polanyk. Having neutralised a dangerous-looking attack, a small slip allowed an exchange sacrifice which eventually won at least a piece. Jon Eckert and Nick Grey on boards 6 and 7 drew relatively early. Nick was frustrated that his edge from a better pawn structure did not crystallise into a win, but his was one of the boards where we were outrated, so this was nevertheless an important contribution.

Alan Scrimgour had found himself in a line of the French Defence known better by his opponent. Kings castled on opposite sides, and Alan sacrificed the exchange to try to drum up an attack; he accepted a draw offer when he realised that there was not much there. John Foley equalised the score with a convincing win with black against Wimbledon secretary Gordon Rennie. He has analysed this in more depth in the Games section. From my observation point on the next board, he built up the pressure impressively to reach this position after 22 Re3.

My own game finished shortly after John’s. At the time, I thought it had been an anodyne draw, with my opponent successfully neutralising the slight disadvantage of an isolated pawn. Imagine my frustration when Stockfish showed me three distinct winning opportunities I had missed, each of them instructive.

That left the scores level at 3-3, with Kingston apparently slightly worse on both remaining boards. Luca Buanne, on his league debut, faced Dan Rosen’s Grand Prix attack. This game, which was a tense but fairly balanced struggle from the outset, is provided in full in the Games section, with annotations by Luca and John Foley. The rest of the team started to focus on his game around this critical moment, after 37. Rc1 by White.

So it all came down to board 1. Peter Lalić, against the IM Alberto Suarez Real, played a trademark queenless middle game. Around the point the other games were over, he was a pawn down but solid and with reasonable activity, and his chances to hold were improved because his opponent was down to a minute on the clock while Peter still had more than five.

Thus we won the match, securing our position in division 1 and (such is the closeness of the race) keeping us in with an outside shot at the title. To beat a 2400+ IM in that ending starting from a pawn down was an epic performance. Peter will remember with advantages what feats he did that day^[1].

Peter Andrews, Kingston captain in Surrey division 1

^[1] Shakespeare was of course expert in the pressures and rewards of Surrey League chess.

Kingston A storm to victory at Wimbledon

Thames Valley division 1 match played at St Winefride’s Church Hall, Wimbledon on 1 February 2024

Wimbledon captain Ian Heppell said before the start of the match that this was the strongest Thames Valley League team they had turned out this season. They had IM Alberto Suarez Real on board 1, and, although Kingston had a rating advantage on the other five boards, they all looked likely to be tight.

One privilege enjoyed by Kingston members is Vladimir Li’s occasional series of lectures on positional chess, a key message from which is that positional and routine chess are very different things; even in quiet openings, players must be alert to tactical opportunities which can destroy the positional build-up. My game against Neil Cannon on board 5 illustrated this nicely. Black slightly mixed his plans by playing b6, which weakened his knight on c6, and then not following up immediately with Bb7. After nine moves, he was already lost.

With that quick goal in the net, Alan Scrimgour dodged a bullet against Tony Hughes (who was in form, having won the first Kingston Blitz at All Saints Church the previous day). After playing against Tony’s English much as he would as White against a Sicilian, Alan had launched a queenside foray with his queen and rook. For a moment, in the position below, White had the chance to win the exchange:

White could have played 17. Ndb1 and won the trapped rook for his knight. Fortunately – for Kingston at least – he missed the backward step (a common theme in my reports), Alan extricated himself, and a draw was soon agreed as simplification was about to occur.

Next to finish was Vladimir Li, who had White on top board against Suarez Real. After a King’s Indian Defence, Vladimir’s 16th move prompted an interesting debate later among the Kingston players:

Vladimir went with 16. Qb3. Black’s queen is his most active piece, defending several weak spots. Although after 16…Qxb3 17. axb3, the b-pawns are doubled, Black cannot get at them, and the semi-open a-file may be of use. Stockfish suggests 16. Qd2 as the best move – 16…Rac8 17. Be3 Qa5 18. Bf4 Qb6, but the evaluation (level) is the same. Vladimir was concerned that if the black queen was not challenged, Black could reorganise, moving his queen’s bishop to f5 and knight to d7 or e4 (though in such a line he would have to ensure that g4 would not win the bishop).

In the game, Vladimir got the sort of position the late world champion Tigran Petrosian would have loved, in which, although he had no immediate breakthrough himself, Black had no useful way to activate himself, and instead retreated his knight to e8 and bishop to f8 to hold the weak d6 point. Vladimir had a substantial time advantage as well, so the IM could not reasonably turn down a draw; clearly a good result for Kingston on the one board where we had a rating disadvantage.

*IM Alberto Suarez Real and FM Vladimir Li analyse their game while Peter Andrews reflects on his rapid victory*

Boards 2, 3 and 4 went the distance. On board 3, Silverio Abasolo had an early edge with White against Dan Rosen. In the position below, both sides must have missed that White had two ways to get a significant advantage:

The best move might be 15. Qe3, attacking the a-pawn. If 15…Kb8 16. e5 dxe5 17. Rxd8+ Qxd8 18. Qxe5+ wins, so White will win the d-pawn. If 15…b6, White can play a move which is the more daring option anyway: 16 Rxd6!, and after 16…Rxd6 17. e5 the fork wins back the rook, leaving White a pawn up.

After that, Black took the initiative. In this position, he perhaps “played for two results” by going for a slightly better ending rather than leaving the queens on:

30…Qf6 would have left White suffering: 31. Bg2 Rde8 32. Qd2 Nb6 threatens Nc4 and unbelievably the queen would be trapped in her own backyard, and White would have to give up the exchange. So 33. b3 is necessary, and White has multiple problems: the front rook is almost trapped, and Black threatens to land on f2, or pick off the weak white pawns. Instead he played 30… Qxe2. After 31. Bxe2 Rf2 32. h4 gxh4 33. Rh1 c5 34 Rd2 d4 35. Nd1 was a surprisingly effective defence. Pieces were exchanged, Silverio recovered his pawn, and in the final position (below) his passed pawn more than compensated for his less solid pawn structure and a draw was agreed.

For a long time, spectators found it difficult to evaluate Julian Way’s position against Ian Heppell on board 4. In the position that arose after 14…fxe6, which both sides had allowed voluntarily, were his doubled pawns sufficiently compensated by the two bishops, the extra open file and a central pawn mass?

*Alan Scrimgour (left) watches on as boards 2, 3 and 4 reach their conclusion*

Vladimir aptly described Peter Lalić’s game on board 2 against Russell Picot as “flowing like music”. Most of Peter’s games this season have started with him allowing an early queen exchange on d8 or d1. His opponents are attracted to preventing his king from castling, and probably by the thought that with queens off they improve their chances of a draw against a highly rated player. But this can be an illusion. Queenless middle games can require precision, and Peter has far more experience of handling such positions than most of his opponents will ever have. As in Julian’s game, there was an important point at which the two players allowed a sequence of moves which they must have evaluated differently.

*Beware sharks (as well as octopuses)! Wimbledon’s playing room, a nursery by day, is awash with curious objects*

A tremendous win by Peter to complete an excellent night for Kingston. It felt like a return to the “steamroller” first team of last year and propelled Kingston to the top of Thames Valley League division 1, though Hammersmith in second place have three matches in hand and must be warm favourites to win the title. Still, we were greatly encouraged by this performance, and enter the second half of the season in good heart.

Peter Andrews, Kingston 1 Surrey League captain and captain on the night in this match

Coming to terms with missed opportunities

In chess there are out-and-out blunders – bad moves that are obvious in retrospect. And there are missed opportunities – glorious (but hard-to-find) moves that elude you. Which are harder for a player to deal with?

Peter Andrews

What is the difference between a blunder and a missed opportunity? Do we feel differently about them? Are they a metaphor for life? Can our friends enjoy our creations even if they were only unearthed after the event? Or, if you prefer to avoid mental anguish over the Christmas season and would rather not address these philosophical questions, you could just enjoy some of my near-misses and see if you could have done better.

Blunders v missed opportunities

It is not unusual when analysing a game using an engine to find that the computer evaluation of one’s position falls sharply after a move, meaning that the move was a mistake. Sometimes the move was bad: it failed to deal with an obvious threat, lost a piece or compromised the position. We would call such a move a blunder – a player of our ability should have been able to see what was wrong and avoid it, and there were reasonable alternatives available. Probably we knew before we got there that the machine would disapprove of our choice.

Sometimes the change in evaluation comes as a surprise and the reason is not obvious. Perhaps there was only one move which would have maintained the evaluation, and anything else was inferior. And perhaps that move was not one that a player of our ability would expect to find over the board, with all the usual pressures – time shortage, concern about the position in the match, and so on. In such a case we might refer to a missed opportunity.

I recently drew with Frank Zurstiege in a Thames Valley League match against Hounslow but missed a lovely trick to convert my positional advantage into a winning endgame. The opportunity arose in this position:

That Hounslow game also contained a missed opportunity for my opponent in a king and pawn endgame, where a misguided pawn advance by me permitted an instant counter-strike that would have won the game for Black. Happily (for me at least) my opponent missed it and his opportunity was lost. In the next day or so, if I awoke at night, the possibility of having lost that game in such a manner made it difficult to nod off again. The missed opportunities on both sides in that game made me ponder other such moments in my 50-plus years of competitive chess.

The three examples below set a high bar in terms of both the significance of the opportunity and the degree of mental anguish which followed (though there is, as you will discover, a pleasurable coda to the third “missed” opportunity). All three games were against players higher rated than me, so winning would have been at least a worthwhile achievement and maybe one of those red-letter days to be enjoyed for the rest of one’s chess career. They might have given me the illusion that I could really play at the same level as these people, rather than approach it occasionally like an FA Cup upset.

They all involved good play up to the point of the opportunity. Perhaps that is to be expected. If one is to have an opportunity against a player stronger than oneself, it is natural that one has to play above oneself. And they feature attractive play at the critical point. Combining these factors means that the opportunity will be rare – there may never again be another chance to beat that particular opponent or play that particular combination.

All that leads to a regret so palpable that it can resurface after over 40 years. It is an emotion slightly different from that of the memory of a blunder. It is a sadness at something unfulfilled, rather than embarrassment or humiliation – a little like being out in the nineties at cricket before one has made one’s maiden century. No surprise, no shame, but the chance of a lifetime forsaken. Fortunately, to the best of my recollection, none of the three examples below was costly for my team, so there is no guilt on top of the regret.

In each of these examples, I give a diagram showing the crucial position, to allow you to find what I missed before the winning move is shown, alongside some game context.

Position 1: Brandon Kwan v Peter Andrews

This position was included in Chess magazine’s Find the Winning Move in October 2023. I was Black in this game, playing for the Bank of England, against Brandon Kwan of Barclays in the final of the City Chess Association‘s Major Cup on 17 May 2023. Barclays, perennial league winners, are the Manchester City of the CCA. Kwan is a little stronger than me, rated in the 2080s at the time of the game. I failed to find the brilliant win.

Why did I miss this? I had about six minutes to Brandon’s two, and the opportunity to win material and keep an advantage in an important game was so clear as to preclude spending precious time on looking for something else. Fundamentally, I did not see the mating net that Black could weave in mid-board. A shame after achieving such a crushing position as Black against a stronger opponent in only 23 moves. Because I won the game and the BoE won the match anyway, the regret is less sharp than it would have been, but mere competitive success pales alongside not having played the game that I might have done.

Position 2: Peter Andrews v Marcus Osborne

I was White against Marcus Osborne for Kingston B against South Norwood on 29 May 2023, less than two weeks after the Kwan game. Marcus is rated around 2250. I must have only a dozen or so wins against players over 2200 in my life, so it would have been one to remember. And it was an important match – avoiding a large defeat meant that Kingston B avoided relegation from Surrey League Division 2.

I felt at the time, and Stockfish confirmed the next morning, that I had outplayed him up to this point, but time was short and I was not surprisingly worried that his passed d-pawn, supported by his queen, would promote near my king and mate me. I felt that 32. Rf7 was the right move, but if 32… d2 33. Bxg7+ Rxg7 I could not see how to win. The answer of course is 34. Qd8+ Rg8 35. Qf6+ mating, a backward diagonal queen move, notoriously hard to see.

Having missed Rf7, I blundered in the time scramble and got mated. Fortunately we won the match anyway.

Position 3: Glenn Flear v Peter Andrews

Sometimes the lost opportunity is an illusion. In March 1981 I played the strongest opposition of my life. I played IM Paul Littlewood (and lost in 18 moves) in the National Club Championship on 8 March, GM John Nunn in the Oxford University college league on 12 March, and David Goodman, also in the college league, on Friday 13th. I lost both of those as well, unluckily against Nunn where I blundered away a draw just before the 30-move time control (that game was a candidate for this column too, but belongs in the blunder rather than the missed opportunity bucket). On the Saturday I was due to play for Oxfordshire against Surrey in a county match. In those days few university players played for Oxfordshire (whereas the Cambridgeshire county team more or less was the university plus some dons), so the county side was very weak and on this occasion I found myself, with some trepidation, on board 1 against Glenn Flear, already close to 2300 and on his way to becoming a GM.

As I looked at the game for the first time since then, it was clear that the modest 37. Kh1 is a draw, although he might have missed it or been reluctant to concede it against a much weaker opponent. Writing this blog has finally exorcised that regret, as compensation for reliving more recent ones. Perhaps if you have an idle moment over the holiday season, putting your old games through an engine will similarly console you.

So what of the other questions with which I started? Are these missed opportunities over the chessboard a metaphor for life? I can think of a few occasions in my professional life when I should have said something in a meeting that I did not, which might have led to better career outcomes as well as better policy-making, and the odd occasion in my personal life. But those lost opportunities were mainly a failure of courage, whereas my first two examples above were really failures of imagination. Perhaps the last example leads to a saner conclusion: there are all sorts of alternative avenues which one might have tried, some of them superficially attractive, some of them pressed by those around you, but often they might not have made much difference; you end up with what you deserve.

And as for my last question: can one’s friends enjoy our creations even if they only come to light afterwards? That I leave to you.