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.
Q&A with Epsom Chess Club’s president Marcus Gosling (pictured above). Kingston’s Stephen Moss, Marcus’s friend and arch-foe in the fight for Surrey club honours, asks the questions
Kingston play in two local leagues – Surrey and Thames Valley. All our rivals in division 1 of each league are dangerous, but some are more dangerous than others. Epsom are more dangerous than most, and in the 2023/24 season they pipped us to the Surrey League title. Their triumph was remarkable in several ways. They had been promoted from division 2 the previous season, so won it at the first attempt. But even more startling is the fact that the club has only existed in its modern form for six years. It was refounded in 2018 by the then 23-year-old Marcus Gosling , the old Epsom club having foundered (like many other clubs) decades previously. In this Q&A, I ask Marcus how he managed not just to get Epsom up and running again, but to turn it so quickly into a powerhouse of Surrey chess.
Q: Cast your mind back to 2018, Marcus. Why did you decide to refound Epsom Chess Club and what did you hope to achieve?
I have always believed I am a creative person, but I probably lack the raw talent, and in truth probably the self-discipline, to be really competent in a particular field. I am always adamant to do things my own way, and that attribute is mainly a curse, but it can also be a blessing. A person’s greatest strength and biggest weakness are rarely far apart. In a competitive sense, my ambition in 2018 was for Epsom to reach Division 1 of the Surrey League within five years. This seemed laughably unlikely, not least after finishing next-to-last in our first season in Division 4.
Q: I believe the old Epsom club had originally been founded in 1929. How long did it exist, what had it achieved, and when and why did it fold?
That’s right. Here, I must pay tribute to the late Surrey League archivist Martin Cath, who was instrumental in helping me delve a little into the history of the original Epsom club, which existed from 1929-67. These records actually dated back to 1931, and it was only thanks to Streatham & Brixton Chess Club sending us a local newspaper cutting from December 1929, heralding the arrival of a new club in Epsom, that we actually managed to trace the club back to source.
The original Epsom club was led almost throughout by a legend of Surrey chess, Hector Marshall. He was quite a strong player by all accounts and was still playing despite failing eyesight until shortly before his death in 2000. I managed to get in touch with his granddaughter, who was pleased to hear that we had reformed. By an unusual twist of fate, the flat where I am living at the moment was built on the site of a large house formerly owned by Hector Marshall. When I looked through the plans before moving in, I could hardly believe my eyes. The only regret is that we don’t have a picture of Hector to hang up somewhere prominent at the club.
It doesn’t sound as though the original Epsom club won much in the way of silverware, only thrice winning the “Waechter Shield” (which may have been the third or perhaps fourth tier of the Surrey League at the time, and is now the trophy awarded to the winners of the Surrey Border League). We certainly never won the Surrey Trophy [the Surrey Div 1 title], our best finish being third in the top tier, or the Alexander Cup, where our best effort was losing to Battersea in the final in 1939.
As far as I am aware, our downfall began when a new chess club in Stoneleigh entered the fray in the 1960s, masterminded by “an ambitious and flamboyant man with a penchant for self-promotion”. Hmm, sounds familiar…
Q: Was there a community of chess players in Epsom eager for the club to be reformed, or were you taking a shot in the dark?
I had no idea, but I figured that there must be dormant chess players lurking somewhere. There are plenty of chess aficionados, and surely Epsom was no exception. The initial plan was to rely on a mixture of loanees from other clubs and home-grown players to get the club off the ground, before gathering enough momentum to stand on our own two feet. Within a couple of seasons, we were able to wean ourselves off the multi-club players and greatly expand our number of teams. We recommended this approach to Chessington Chess Club when their club was launched during the pandemic, and that has brought them moderate success too.
A very hirsute Gosling with some key early Epsom members, including the late Mike Basman (far left)
Q: I believe there you have one member who played for the old Epsom club. He must be very happy to see the club back in business.
Yes, that man is Mike Wickham, who is an absolute delight. Mike played briefly for the original club in the 1960s when it met at the Cricketers pub on the fringes of Epsom, before heading off to university. By the time he’d completed his degree, the club had folded. A mere 52 years later (surely some kind of record), Mike attended our reformation celebration at the Rising Sun pub and played in our first match in 2018 against Dorking. I am pleased to say that Mike has been instrumental in our rise as a club, overseeing our monthly blitz events as tournament controller, captaining various league teams, representing his county, attending the occasional congress and generally being as reliable and supportive a member as any club could hope for.
Q: You could have joined another club and happily played there. Why did you feel the need to start (or perhaps restart) a new club?
After returning from Russia [Marcus speaks and teaches Russian] a second time in 2017, I swiftly joined Surbiton Chess Club on the recommendation of Chris Briscoe, who had run the lunchtime chess club at my school. Surbiton are a fantastic entity, led by the inspirational Paul Durrant and supported by a host of other aficionados. I consider the one season I played for them in 2017-18 to have been an important step, as I was able to observe from the backbenches how a successful chess club is run. Midway through that season, the thought of setting up a new club was already germinating in my mind.
Q: Did you find other local chess clubs unsatisfactory in some way? Best not to name names – we want to keep on friendly terms with all our rivals! But was there really no other Surrey club that suited you?
Surbiton were great, but I would say that almost half the clubs in the Surrey League are poorly run and deeply unappealing to potential newcomers. I could probably go on a long rant here, so here is a short one instead.
Without wishing to appear ageist, many clubs, both in Surrey and around the UK, are in desperate need of a fresh perspective. Many seem to be run by middle-aged men, probably ex-bank clerk types, Luddites trapped in loveless marriages, lacking liveliness, libido and enough holes on their belts, angry at what they believe the world owes them. They use chess as a counterbalance – a way of taking out their frustration and disdain for everyone and everything. Running a chess club is, for them, a power trip rather than a community project and God forbid that anyone should try to challenge them. Everything they touch turns to ice. Now imagine a twentysomething woman in this environment. How long before she turns around and walks straight back out the door? This sounds harsh I know, and I am playfully exaggerating, but I really do think there are clubs who exist like this.
Q: What were your founding principles?
To be the polar opposite of what I have mentioned above. It is very important to me that Epsom Chess Club is a hospitable place with community spirit at its very essence. When a new player rocks up, we try to welcome them with open arms.
Q: What makes a good chess club?
That is certainly a harder question. I think it has to be something to do with meeting the needs of all members and this is certainly an area that Epsom can improve. Some clubs are very competition-orientated with no social element, whilst others are effectively social clubs who happen to play chess. The key is finding a good balance and regularly consulting members to hear what they have to say.
Q: Your Surrey League success has, I think it’s fair to say, been founded on having three IMs – Peter Large, Graeme Buckley and Susan Lalić – on boards 1, 2 and 3. Did you go out of your way to recruit what might be called these “bedrock players”?
It was quite funny when IM Peter Large walked into the club one day, modestly introducing himself and telling us he “played a bit online”. After challenging him to a handful of games and losing all of them, I dared to ask who was the strongest player he had faced in a tournament. “I drew with Smyslov once” was the reply. Safe to say we had a talent on our hands and it wasn’t long before the unfortunate board ones in the Surrey fourth division were finding that out too.
Graeme and Susan are more recent acquisitions, who were perhaps attracted to the story behind our revived club and wanted to be part of it. I would imagine they also saw Peter in our ranks and realised we had at least one player who would give them both a decent game. The trouble is bridging the gap between the IMs and the mere mortals, although with Peter leaving the club soon there may not be a gap to bridge.
Q: You also lured former British champion Peter Lee, who is now 80 years old, back into chess after a 50-year gap in competitive play. How did you manage that?
That was mainly down to Graeme and Susan, who know Peter quite well and live close to where he does. Many thanks to them for their efforts, not least with providing the former British champion (of both bridge and chess) with a lift to matches. As I mentioned previously, strength tends to attract strength, so having three well-known top-class players at Epsom probably had some positive effect.
I am proud that Epsom Chess Club has been able to welcome Peter and reignite his passion to compete as part of a team. He even played on top board for the Surrey Open team earlier in the season, albeit off a Fide rating dating from the early 1970s. For an octogenarian, this is nothing short of magnificent.
Key members of the Epsom committee: David Flewellen, Marcus Gosling and Lucy Emery
Q: Was your intention to grow through proactive recruitment or organically – waiting for players to come through the door?
With the exception of Peter Large, strong players rarely just walk through the door of any club. I reckon in another life I could have been a football scout – part of the fun of running a club is sourcing talent. This is helped by the fact that I am just looking for chess enthusiasts, not necessarily master-level players.
Personally, I enjoy playing in tournaments outside of the Surrey League umbrella, so get to meet quite a few players that way. In the first round of one Kensington Rapidplay event, I was paired with the brilliantly shirted and effervescent GM Stuart Conquest. The game quickly went south, but of course I did not pass up the opportunity to try to reel him in. A bit of a long shot, given that I think he lives somewhere near Heathrow airport (and was probably tempted to jump on a plane following our conversation, or even in front of it), but I would like to think I was playing the long game. Not on the board though of course.
Q: What marketing methods did you use?
A mixture of 21st- and 20th-century methods. It is of paramount importance for a modern chess club to have a strong online presence, including good SEO (search engine optimisation) and this is an area I was keen to get on top of back in 2018. Thanks to another keen member, Anthony Hunter, our website has recently been revamped, and we also have an active Twitter/X feed and a Facebook page. That said, we need to start uploading match reports like Kingston do. Maybe setting up TikTok and Instagram pages will be next.
But equally, we have relied a little on printed flyers and strategically placed banners outside the club on match nights, as well as the occasional public event. Last summer, we set up a few boards in Epsom town centre, but that wasn’t particularly successful. However, one of our most active and supportive members, David Flewellen, was recruited at a sort of village fête.
Q: What innovations did you introduce? I recall your club videos and also your electronic scoreboard at matches. Were you always determined to do things differently?
We can certainly do more in this area, but for sure I am determined for Epsom to remain a lively and innovative club. I always imagine myself as a new member stepping through the door for the first time – would I see a vibrant group of people or a glorified morgue? When I enter the club, would I be warmly greeted and introduced to other members or just ignored? From next season, we hope to bring back a projector screen and also a “welcome board” by the front door, explaining in writing what is going on at the club that night. I also want to introduce club merchandise for extra publicity, which is something that London clubs such as Battersea and Hammersmith do well. Maybe we could even shell out on the odd DGT board.
Q: With so many very strong players, where does that leave the rest? How does a club satisfy the needs of both the elite player and the less strong player? How can a club appeal successfully to IMs, 2000-strength players and 1500-strength players. Can it be one club, or is it a club with two or even three layers which in reality rarely intersect?
In all honesty, that is something Epsom is yet to master and we have paid the penalty by losing one of our IMs [Peter Large] and a few of our beginner-level members. I think Kingston are the gold standard in the Surrey League in this area, in the sense that top players are catered for with invitational events and all other members can attend lectures on a fairly regular basis. Our most successful whole-club events have been our blitz tournaments and Christmas meals, which bring together the whole club. A big thank you to Mike Wickham and Susan Lalić (and not forgetting her husband Graeme Buckley), who have been in charge of those events.
Q: Where do juniors fit in the club? I know you have a junior club and teach chess yourself. Are you satisfied with the club’s junior offering – something which at Kingston we are still striving to get right. Do you feel you have cracked the puzzle?
From unveiling a new Epsom Junior Chess Club with barely a dozen children in October 2019, we now have over 70 pupils attending our junior sessions, which I run with support from our punctilious club secretary David Flewellen and upcoming teenager Maya Keen on Thursday evenings. Both classes have been fully booked every term since the pandemic, and there are even more pupils on the waiting list. I am constantly staggered by the amount of interest, and without wishing to toot my own bugle I am immensely proud of this – it is a very pleasing endorsement of my chess teaching.
One thing I should mention is that I have always run the junior club independently, ie as a business opportunity, and parents pay me directly. I then feed the strongest juniors into the adult club setup (without saturating it). Currently we have around half a dozen children regularly competing in the Surrey League and doing very well. All the adults are immensely supportive of the juniors who play alongside them. This is different to at many clubs, where the junior wing is more closely tied to the adult club and is used as a money-making scheme for it, while the person in charge of teaching the kids is often an underappreciated volunteer.
I have enjoyed writing chess books for children too – probably the best ones I have written are Rambunctious Rooks and Quixotic Queens and Lunar Octopuses Can’t Play Chess.
Q: You have been successful at attracting women players. How have you achieved that?
Yes, I think we have more female players than the rest of the league combined. Just treat women with respect, involve them fully in club events, listen to what they have to say, meet at a comfortable venue in a well-lit area and they are more likely to enjoy coming along regularly. We are pleased that our club treasurer and diversity officer, Lucy Emery, has been asked to join the Surrey League board – a long overdue decision – and I am satisfied that positive steps are being taken to diversify the decision-makers in the SCCA.
Q: What can chess clubs – and the sport generally – do to become more female friendly?
Shut down the bigots more effectively. Unless misogynistic and abusive players and fans are identified and excluded, progress will remain slow and insignificant.
Q: How has running the club affected your own chess? My sense is that you haven’t progressed quite as much as you would have done if you were just concentrating on your own game.
It is certainly true that my own game stagnated some time ago, although that is in part due to teaching chess for a living. After teaching the beloved game five days a week, studying it in the remaining hours feels like a busman’s holiday. That said, I do immensely enjoy playing and I think there is progress still to be made, if only I could be bothered to set my mind to it. I know I won’t reach master level, but I enjoy the game nonetheless.
Q: Do you ever think you made the wrong choice: that you should have concentrated on your own play rather than on running a club?
Chess has never been the most important thing in my life – I have a number of other interests and hobbies – but it is somewhat true that I have neglected many of these to put plenty of effort into running Epsom Chess Club. That said, I get almost as much pleasure out of seeing my students and team-mates play well as I do from my own games. This is probably because my games aren’t especially pleasant to witness.
Q: What are your ambitions now for your own game? To get to 2000 ECF? To beat your eternal rival Peter Lalić?
Yes to both. Reaching 2000 ECF is a realistic target and I am almost within touching distance now. Whether I get there in the near future is another question, but I reckon it can be done. As for failing to beat Peter Lalić, that is surely one of the three certainties of life, along with death and taxes. It is a rivalry that dates back many years to our school days and Friday-evening matches in the Briant Poulter League. Peter and I are similar in some ways (other than sharing a birth year, 1994): I think he is very creative on the board but I am much more creative away from it.
Gosling playing in the Lauder Trophy final against Kingston’s Peter Andrews. Photograph: John Saunders
Q: You are very much all or nothing when it comes to running Epsom. You have high standards and want it to succeed. You have strong administrative allies at the club, but I think it is fair to say that much of the dynamism at the club relies on you. You have admitted that this can be draining. Does the amount it is taking out of you worry you?
I don’t particularly see the point in accepting mediocrity. Creating a chess club was the easy part, but making it successful is a different kettle of fish. I could take the easy way out and leave the dirty work to everyone else, but that isn’t really my style. However, the Epsom committee is superb. I have already mentioned Mike Wickham’s evergreen tendencies, but David Flewellen is absolutely tremendous at putting the club philosophy into practice and engaging with members in a positive way. I should not forget Lucy Emery too, for her hard work behind the scenes, namely managing the club’s finances. I could also mention many more members.
If I were to have a meltdown and step away from Epsom, there would be a plethora of dynamic members willing to drive the club forward. That is immensely reassuring and allows me to delegate responsibility a whole lot more these days, which is a lot better for my own well-being.
Q: Running a club and really trying to push it forward is something of a Faustian bargain: one enjoys the challenge but knows that it is exhausting and often frustrating. Do you ever reach a point of wondering if it’s all worth it?
Winning trophies brings a lot of joy to members, as everyone at the club is invested in how all of our teams are getting on, no matter what level they are. Usually at least one person is able to provide live updates on a particular match via our club WhatsApp group, and members regularly chip in with humorous and encouraging comments. I am fortunate not to be the only Epsom member with drive and determination, so together we are able to share the workload and continue to push the club forward.
Q: The Dutch GM Hans Ree said chess was a game “worth wasting your life on”. Can the same dictum be applied to running a chess club?
I don’t feel I am wasting my time at all, and in fact I am hugely proud of the community that has flourished at Epsom Chess Club – a group of people who otherwise would never have met or be playing chess at all. What matters most to me is that members look forward to attending the club – for some it is perhaps the highlight of their week. As for chess itself, I regularly dream about those cursèd 64 squares and playing in imaginary tournaments in made-up places that have been amalgamated in my mind – I cannot escape chess’s grip for long. I sometimes even “sleep-teach”, where I start reciting the Lucena position to an imaginary audience whilst half-asleep. Perhaps I should be worried!
Q: You have suffered considerable problems with venues since the clubs was reformed. Can you briefly explain the problems and do you feel you now have a venue, the Epsom Christian Fellowship, which will offer long-term stability for the club.
Yes, we have been round Epsom more times than Lester Piggott. The struggle to find a suitable venue is an issue that every chess club knows all too well. Until recently, I was of the opinion that pubs were the most natural stomping ground for chess clubs, with serious matches played in a separate function room and casual games in the bar. However, pubs tend to be more profit-orientated than places like church halls and community centres and of course chess players are naturally ascetic and stingy when it comes to buying drinks.
We were initially hampered by a lack of funds, having opted to keep our annual membership fees low, so I often orbited Epsom searching for quid pro quo agreements with down-at-heel pubs, who were desperate for extra trade. This once led to an embarrassing situation where we spent less than a month at one venue, which turned out to be entirely unsuitable for our needs. However, things are finally looking up, as our current venue – Epsom Christian Fellowship – is ideal.
Q: Is it fair to say that half (perhaps even more than half) the secret of running a chess club is finding a good venue?
Yes, that is probably true. An ideal venue would be close to the town centre and a railway station, quiet, well-lit, not too expensive, accessible to disabled players, junior-friendly, with separate areas for serious and casual games. But of course, it can be nigh-on impossible to tick all those boxes. “The Fellowship” (as we call it) is as close to perfect as we are likely to get.
Q: As you know, Kingston has just completed a hat-trick of victories in the Alexander Cup. Four other clubs have completed that hat-trick – Clapham Common, Richmond, Mitcham and Redhill. Of those, only Richmond still exists and even they are now based in Teddington. I sometimes dwell on this memento mori. Chess clubs come and go. Does that worry you and how does one future-proof them? What is the secret of creating a sustainable club?
Ultimately it comes down to how many people are willing to shoulder the administrative burden. If one key member leaves, does the club have enough cylinders to run on, or will it conk out and splutter to a halt? Moreover, as I have mentioned previously, involving younger members in running the club and listening to their ideas is the best way to prevent stagnation. At Epsom, we also fundraise whenever possible – for example, we regularly make £40-£50 in donations at our blitz events and cleared £70 with an impromptu raffle at our AGM last month.
In the space of just six years, President Gosling has created a very successful and highly competitive club
Q: You have said that winning the Surrey League is just the beginning for Epsom. What are the club’s ambitions now?
Next up is the 4NCL, which is a decidedly tougher world to conquer. The club has agreed to fund the entry fee and there are quite a few takers already. We will have to start at the bottom, but should rise fairly quickly if our stronger players are keen to take on the challenge.
However, we are looking at what other clubs in the Surrey League are doing better than us. For sure, there will be an Epsom Invitational event sometime in the next couple of years, following in Kingston’s footsteps, and we have plans to launch an Epsom Congress in 2025 to counter Guildford’s latest venture.
I also think it should be possible to re-establish a national club knockout competition, perhaps with regional early rounds and culminating with a semi-final and final at a central location. No doubt there are other ideas I have neglected to mention.
Q: You are on the verge of turning 30. Will you be running Epsom with the same energy and will to succeed at 40, or will others have to step up with their own vision for the club? I sometimes jokingly refer to you in match reports when we play you as President-for-Life, but are you?
I never like to look too far ahead actually. I don’t like the feeling of being on train tracks towards a specific goal – my interests and ideas change on a daily basis. I did laugh when you called me “president-for-life” in a recent match report, although I think that is less true nowadays with such an armada of brilliantly supportive members at Epsom. When we reformed in 2018, the joke was that everyone would vote on something and then I would make the final decision. Nowadays, I try to refrain from being too precious about my vision for the club. Maybe one day I will get off the Epsom merry-go-round for good. I just hope I don’t morph into the bitter, cantankerous ex-bank clerk type that I mocked earlier on. If I do, just shoot me.
Book review by John Foley: Originally published in British Chess News, 27 May 2024
I have a parochial interest in any book on Reginald Pryce Michell because he ended his playing career as a member of Kingston Chess Club of which I have the privilege to be president. His main career was in the first third of the 20th century. Other notable contemporary club members from the 1930s include the legendary Pakistani player Mir Sultan Khan, the chess author Edward Guthlac Sergeant and Joseph Henry Blake against whom we show some Michell games below.
This new book from Carsten Hansen is a welcome addition to the coverage of an important player who represented England. It is an update and expansion of the book originally published in 1947 by Pitman, London and compiled by Julius du Mont, the former editor of British Chess Magazine.
Julius du Mont, Editor of British Chess Magazine from 1940 to 1949
The original book has long been out of print, so the new book allows players to familiarise themselves with an almost forgotten former luminary of English chess.
R.P. Michell: A Master of British Chess by J. du Mont, Pitman, 1947
Reginald Pryce Michell
I share some background on R. P. Michell from my article on the history of Kingston Chess Club.
Reginald Pryce Michell, British Chess Magazine, Volume XLV1, April, 1926, photographer: Theo J. Gidden, Southport
Michell (1873-1938) was the British amateur chess champion in 1902 and played for Great Britain in the inaugural 1927 Olympiad in London and the 1933 Olympiad in Folkestone. He played in eight England v USA cable matches between 1901 and 1911. He participated in the Hastings Premier over 20 years, defeating both Sultan Khan and Vera Menchik in 1932/33. He finished second, third and fourth in the British championship (officially constituted in 1904), beating the multiple champion H.E. Atkins on several occasions. Modern estimates have placed him at the level of a strong international master.
Michell’s track record is all the more remarkable because he worked in a senior position at the Admiralty throughout his career which left him little time to study chess theory or enter competitions. He had a “wide knowledge of English and French literature, and a book of essays in either language was his standby for any unoccupied moment.” He died aged 65 which was the official retirement age at that time.
Michell excelled in the middle game and could hold his own in the endgame as attested by his draws against endgame maestros Capablanca and Rubinstein. In the only article he ever wrote about chess, he singled out books on the endgame as the most useful for practical purposes.
Portrait of R.P. Michell
E.G. Sergeant wrote of him: “Michell’s courtesy as a chess opponent was proverbial, and on the rare occasions when he lost he always took as much interest in playing the game over afterwards as when he had won, and never made excuses for losing. Of all my opponents, surely he was the most imperturbable. Onlookers might chatter, whisper, fall off chairs, make a noise of any kind, and it seemed not to disturb him; even when short of time, he just sat with his hands between his knees, thinking, thinking.”
Michell’s wife Edith (maiden name Edith Mary Ann Tapsell) was British women’s champion in 1931 (jointly), 1932 and 1935, and played alongside him for Kingston & Thames Valley chess club.
Edith Mary Ann Michell (née Tapsell)
A Master of British Chess – what’s new?
The original book covered 36 games; the new book has been expanded considerably to 67 games. Moreover, the additional games are against some of the most notable players of the era, including several world champions. Chess historians should be grateful for the revival of the original game selection, which du Mont described as “characteristic games”, by the addition of another 31 “notable games”.
Self-published books are a labour of love because the subject lacks the mileage to justify the attention of a conventional publisher. The author lacks the quality assurance tasks typically carried out by a publisher such as proofreading and fact-checking. This is apparent in the first part of the book which reproduces the text from the original, presumably using a scanner which hiccoughed over some obscure passages. The spelling has been converted to American, which grates for a book on a quintessentially English player.
A frustrating omission in the new book is a list of games to navigate the collection; the original book contained a list showing game numbers, players, event locations and dates. In mitigation, the new book does have a useful index of openings and ECO codes as well as an index of opponents. Hansen claims that the first book had 37 games whereas it had 36. Perhaps we can take comfort that later Amazon printings will correct these infelicities.
The new book has some significant improvements over the original. As one might expect, the moves are now in algebraic rather than the descriptive format with which most players under 50 are now unfamiliar. In the text, whilst d-pawn is the modern equivalent of the queen’s pawn, I still hanker after naming the pawn according to the name of the file; it would be a comforting continuity with descriptive notation. The openings are given their modern names with ECO classifications. Casual readers will appreciate the increased number of diagrams accompanying each game. For example, for the game Blake v Michell, Caterham 1926, the original book only had one diagram compared to a generous five for the new book. Many of the original games did not appear in any commercial database. No doubt this situation will be remedied in short order.
The most frequent opponents listed in the revised book include his strong English contemporaries: Sir George Thomas, William Winter and Fred Yates with four games apiece. Hansen added notable opponents who should have been included in the first book on account of their elevated status in the chess world, including five world champions: Alekhine, Botvinnik, Capablanca (two games), Euwe, Menchik (woman world champion) as well as Maroczy, Marshall, Rubinstein and Sultan Khan who were posthumously recognised as grandmasters.
The edited first part
The first part of the book carries the concise game summaries of the original, which were proofread by the precocious Leonard Barden whilst still at Whitgift School who lived a short cycle ride from du Mont in Thornton Heath. The book came out a year later in 1947 when Barden started his National Service.
The editor of Chess Magazine, Baruch Wood, was scathing in his book review: “Britain is far from the top of the chess tree and there must be a hundred British players with better justification for the publication of a book of their games than Michell. Mr du Mont’s graceful pen has made the most of his subject. The price of the book (10/6 for 108pp, 36 games) is so extraordinarily high that one feels some appeal is being made to sentiment.”
No doubt the fact that du Mont was the editor of a rival magazine may have diluted Wood’s objectivity. England did not have a surfeit of players and Michell would have been in the first rank.
Hansen has added his comments as italicised notes in the text in the contemporary, rather dry style redolent of engine and database analysis. Inevitably, he has identified some improvements and errors which were not noticed in the original. These include not only outright blunders but also the missed opportunities. The logic of this approach is harsh and sits somewhat uncomfortably with the convention that the chess public is more forgiving of a failure to play the best move than of making a blunder. Treating both these types of inaccuracy symmetrically makes the world feel less tolerant.
Misattribution
The most significant discovery by Hansen is that one of the games (game 27) had been misattributed regarding who played White. Du Mont had Michell defeating Max Euwe (world champion 1935-37) at Hastings 1931, whereas Michell had lost.
Hansen surmises that the game intended for the collection was the game they played in the following year’s Hastings tournament when Michell had Euwe on the ropes but the game ended in a draw. We don’t know exactly how this error occurred, but confusion sometimes arises when quoting games at Hastings. This famous long-running annual tournament traditionally takes place in the period between Christmas and the New Year and is described according to the year it starts and the year it ends. Michell lost the game played in 1930/31, but drew the game they played in 1931/32.
Biography untouched
Carsten Hansen is a chess analyst rather than a professional biographer so it is perhaps wise that he has not attempted to update the biographical sketch provided by Du Mont. When the chess analyst Daniel King wrote a book on Sultan Khan, he got into hot water regarding his contested account of the life of the grandmaster.
Modern analysis compared
We may compare annotations between the original and the revised version of the book regarding the above-mentioned game. Here we have (courtesy of CH) an excerpt of the new book on the game Blake v Michell, Caterham, 1926. Blake, although half a generation older than Michell, was described by Du Mont as “one of the brilliant band of British amateurs of which R. P. Michell was one.”
Excerpt of Game 22
and
Excerpt of Game 22
and
Excerpt of Game 22
and finally
Excerpt of Game 22
We may briefly examine the new analysis. The original text by Du Mont/Barden criticises Blake’s choice of opening: “This method of development in the Queen’s Pawn game has its disadvantages in that the dark squares on White’s queenside become temporarily weak, and White will have to spend some time on remedying this defect (e.g., 6.a3). That is why the Colle system has come into favour, the basic idea of which is the quiet development of all the white forces with pawns at c3, d4, and e3, starting an attack at the proper time with the move characteristic of the system: e3-e4.”
Hansen gives short shrift to this perspective:
“There is nothing wrong with the text move; in fact, it is a popular set-up for White, played by countless strong grandmasters.”
This blunt contradiction is based upon a century of games played thereafter. However, the original comment may have seemed plausible in the era in which Colle popularised the system and it had yet to be fully proven.
After Black’s 18th move (diagram above), the original annotation prefers an alternative to the move played 19. Bxc4: “Undoubtedly, White should play 19. bxc4. His game will now deteriorate due to this weak centre and the backward d-pawn.”
Hansen is again blunt:
“Indeed, the text move is a blunder, whereas after 19. bxc4, White would have had the upper hand.”
According to Deep Hiarcs (running for one minute), the difference in evaluation between 19. bxc4 and 19. Bxc4 is the difference between +0.2 and -0.3. So at worst, this “blunder” puts Blake a third of a pawn behind instead of being a fifth of a pawn ahead. Whilst masters thrive on small measures, it seems an exaggeration to describe capture by the bishop as a blunder. The original narrative merely says that the pawn capture would have been preferable without overstating the difference. Perhaps there is a tendency when aided by an engine to lose sight of the natural uncertainties felt by chess players when ruminating on which piece to recapture with.
Drama at Hastings 1934-35
The foreword to the original book noted that the most dramatic moment of Michell’s career occurred at the annual Hastings Premier 1934-35. He was pitted in the last round against Sir George Thomas, who was then half a point ahead of Dr Euwe, having beaten Capablanca and Botvinnik. Some observers felt that the decent and patriotic course of action was to give Sir George an easy game.
As one later commentator remarked, “In almost any other country, at any other time, the result would have been foreordained: a friendly draw and Thomas finishes no worse than a tie for first. Indeed, many players had to be rooting for the universally beloved Thomas to win and come in sole first.”
There had not been a home winner since Henry Ernest Atkins in 1921, the first year the annual tournament was held. Thomas and Michell were England team-mates. However, Thomas slipped up and Michell pressed home his advantage. Thomas lost the game but tied for first place with Euwe and Flohr. Curiously, the original book did not include this crucial game. Hansen includes the game and praises Michell for his principled stance: “But there was a happy ending; Max Euwe, in a better position against tail-ender Norman, made a sporting gesture of his own by offering a draw unnecessarily and settling for a first-place tie with Thomas and Flohr.”
The second part
Hansen annotates the games in the new second part of the book in a readable style and does not let Stockfish intrude too much. He even offers his thoughts on some moves rather than taking the engine recommendations. The prose is functional: the game introductions lack the charm of the original game summaries. Whilst sometimes providing background information on the opponent, there is little attempt in the header to identify the key points from each game.
Hansen is consistent with the narrative style in the first part by avoiding long algebraic variations. Even if his move criticisms are sometimes anachronistic, he has been considerate in generally referring to older games when citing continuations. It must have been tempting to refer to games played in the database era.
The original book held to the hagiographic compiler’s conceit of not showing any losses save for the aforementioned misattribution. The reader would perhaps have gained more of an understanding of the subject’s character if presented with some games in which he struggled or indeed blundered. For example, Michell was crushed in 21 moves by Atkins at Blackpool in 1937 when he was still in his prime, even if he died a year later.
Hansen does not resist presenting Michell’s loss to Capablanca at Hastings in the Victory Congress of 1919. It was clear even then that Capablanca would be one of the next holders of the world championship. The game’s introductory text is misleading: “You don’t often get chances to play the best players in the world, let alone take points from them, even if it is ‘just’ a draw.” The implication is that this game (No. 41) is drawn whereas it is a win for Capablanca. In total the book contains two losses, 14 draws and 51 wins for Michell.
In the majority of the games in the second part, Hansen focuses on blunders by Michell or his opponent. There is no doubt that the top players from a century ago were not as strong as the top players of today, but it seems churlish to show so many games with blunders. Comparatively few moves have been awarded an exclamation mark. Perhaps the book should have been shorter, with higher-quality games. However, on closer inspection, the “blunders” are treated in the modern sense as discussed above. They are not the traditional blunders, bad moves losing the game, that would have been described by a contemporary annotator. Rather, they are blunders in which the game evaluation has switched by a certain margin.
Michell, a follower of Nimzovich, focused on positional advantages; tactical skirmishes and sacrifices were few and far between. A slight exception to this style was found in the game Blake v Michell, Hastings, 29 December 1923:
Conclusion
R. P. Michell should be an inspiration to amateur players with a full-time career. He made a mark in the chess world using solid play, eschewing theoretical or sharp lines. He held his own against the strongest players in the world. Carsten Hansen has brought welcome attention to this forgotten English master. The new book nearly doubles the number of games covered and introduces modern engine analysis. The reader will find many examples of successful middle-game strategies. Above all, we learn that chess is a struggle: one should keep trying to improve the position and make things difficult for the opponent. I recommend this book, especially to club players looking for new chess ideas.
John Foley with the Alexander Cup won by Kingston in 2021/22, 2022/23 and 2023/24
Kingston won the Alexander Cup, the Surrey team knockout tournament, in 1931/32 with Michell.
The first 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
One of the first chess books I ever owned was not really a book at all, but a very slim booklet, produced by the Soviet press, with minimal production values, which somehow found itself in a bookshop in London in 1969. It contained the games of the recently concluded world championship match. The contenders were the ninth champion, Tigran Petrosian, and his successor, Boris Spassky.
I understood few of the moves, but that added to the mysterious fascination of the event. If the play of these two masters had been at all comprehensible to me it would have meant that there was nothing exalted about it. Likewise, I felt somehow – or rather read somewhere – that Petrosian was himself a player of special mystery. The American chess writer Irving Chernev, in another of my early chess books (The Most Instructive Games of Chess ever Played), had encouraged this belief by his comment on the game Petrosian-Korchnoi, 1946: “Petrosian must have the spark of genius! How else could he, with a few mysterious moves, cause the quick collapse of so eminent a player as Korchnoi?” I wasn’t aware at the time that in 1946 Korchnoi was only 15 years old.
In 1946 Petrosian himself was only 16 or 17. His already exceptional talent had its roots in a very tough childhood, as described by the man himself in an interview in Life magazine in April 1969. According to this, his Armenian parents were illiterate and he was orphaned at a young age. Growing up in wartime Tbilisi, Georgia, he had to work as a road-sweeper to earn some roubles, or perhaps kopeks, to survive. This was clearly a formative experience.
“I started sweeping streets in the middle of winter,” Petrosian recalled, “and it was horrible. Of course, there were no machines then, and everything had to be done by hand. Some of the older men helped me out. I was a weak boy. And I was ashamed of being a street sweeper – that’s natural, I suppose. It wasn’t too bad in the early morning when the streets were empty, but when it got light and the crowds came out I really hated it.”
Petrosian was one of the golden generation of Soviet players who peaked in the 1960s. This also included Viktor Korchnoi, Mikhail Tal, Spassky and Efim Geller. All of them grew up in hard times: the second world war and the final years of Stalinism. To those of us who followed the chess of that era, each player seemed to have a distinct personality and style, but Petrosian’s style was probably the most singular.
One might speculate as to whether the experiences of his early years had an influence on this. With the kopeks saved from his road-sweeping he had bought Nimzowitsch’s My System, and he often afterwards stated how significant that positional chess manual had been for him. In his games there is usually an emphasis on the permanent features of the position – pawn structures, strong and weak squares, the long-term relative values of the pieces and so on. Curiously, like Mikhail Tal, Petrosian was known for his sacrifices, but, unlike Tal, Petrosian’s were often defensive, the most famous being his exchange sacrifices. Again, in contrast to Tal, Petrosian sacrificed material not to gain time but for long-term positional reasons.
As an example, here is the position after White’s 25th move in the game Reshevsky-Petrosian from the 1953 Candidates’ Tournament, Zurich:
However, with Petrosian it can sometimes be difficult to say whether a sacrifice like this is defensive or offensive. His game against Czech (and later German) grandmaster Vlastimil Hort from the 1970 European Team Championships is an example. Petrosian is Black and plays the Winawer Variation of the French Defence.
One reason Petrosian’s style attracted me was that commentors often referred to his deep understanding of the mysteries of positional chess. Of course, as a novice player, I was far from understanding even some basic aspects of the game, let alone its deep mysteries, but I was hopeful that studying Petrosian’s games might initiate me into some of these.
One aspect of his play which I could hope to find myself copying at my own undistinguished level was his pragmatism, in particular his readiness to make the moves required by the position even if they looked ugly or humbling. Petrosian seemed to be saying that it was OK to retreat a piece or to repeat a move if necessary. The following position in the fourth game of the world championship match against Mikhail Botvinnik in 1963 is an example of this.
In retrospect, I think another reason why I was drawn to Petrosian’s style of play was my misconception that if you were a master of strategy you didn’t need to worry so much about tactical details – and I was weak at tactics. In fact, as many commentators have noted, Petrosian was actually a superb tactician. You can’t base your game on strategy if the tactics are wrong. In addition, it’s been pointed out that Petrosian’s image as a purely defensive player is false. He could also play attacking combinations and, according to Spassky, “It is to Petrosian’s advantage that his opponents never know when he is suddenly going to play like Mikhail Tal.”
The 10th game from Spassky’s world championship match with Petrosian in 1966 must have been the kind of thing he had in mind. Petrosian has White against Spassky’s King’s Indian Defence.
Interestingly, Petrosian had perpetrated a very similar combination 10 years before on Vladimir Simagin (Petrosian-Simagin, Moscow Championship play-off 1956):
For more than a decade Petrosian fought his way through zonals, interzonals and candidates tournaments against his peers, until he finally qualified to play Botvinnik for the world title in 1963. He won this match convincingly 12.5-9.5. It might be said that he was fortunate that Botvinnik’s right to a return match had been abolished by Fide, but Petrosian proved he was a worthy champion by defending his title against Boris Spassky in 1966 with a score of 12.5-11.5. He lost to Spassky in 1969, but he remained one of the top players in the world until his death in 1984 at the early age of 55. He won the Soviet Chess Championship four times; the only players to record more wins were Botvinnik and Tal with six titles.
The ways in which Petrosian is sometimes described make it seem as if he inhabited a chess world of his own. This could be seen as implying either his limitations (he is often regarded as too cautious, with a very high percentage of draws) or as a sign of his unique understanding of the game. I have to accept that he did draw many games, but he also lost very few (his record playing for the Soviet Union in 10 Olympiads was +78, = 50, -1).
To conclude, in my view, playing through his best games can enrich any player’s understanding of chess’s infinite possibilities. This was brought home to me again recently when Kingston’s head of training, FM Julian Way, led an online discussion of the fifth game of the match with Botvinnik. It was a great choice; there is so much to learn from it.
Grandmaster John Nunn has been made an honorary fellow of Oriel College, Oxford, the highest award that a college can make. It symbolises recognition of the enormous contributions John has made to chess as well as his academic achievements. John can place this honour alongside that of honorary life vice-president of Kingston Chess Club. The college interviewed John Nunn last October, and he explained that the difference between playing chess as a young man and now is that once it was about improving and learning whereas now it is managed decline.
John played for Kingston Chess Club as a junior, winning the club championship in 1969 and 1970. He went up to Oxford in 1970 to read mathematics at the age of 15, the youngest undergraduate since 1520. He became a grandmaster and was awarded his doctorate in the same year, 1978, when he was aged 23.
John kindly returned to play for Kingston in the 2018 Alexander Cup final. He won his game in a narrow defeat to Surbiton. The previous time John had played for us was in 1974, a golden period for the club when it won both the Surrey Trophy and the Alexander Cup. The gap of 44 years in games played for the club must be a record. Kingston finally captured the coveted cup again in 2022.
John Foley
John Nunn early 1970s
Chris Briscoe v John Nunn, Alexander Cup Final, 2018
A grandmaster class in defence. Chris Briscoe goes all out in a kingside attack, but John Nunn has it covered.
John Nunn v Matthew Sadler, Lloyds Bank, 1993
John Nunn at his peak at brushing aside the 19-year-old Matthew Sadler, who went on to be one of England’s strongest grandmasters.
We are delighted that Mir Sultan Khan has been officially recognised with the title of international grandmaster. He played at the highest levels from when he arrived in England in 1928 to 1933, becoming British champion in 1929, 1932 and 1933, and was top board for England in three Olympiads. He returned to his native Punjab in Pakistan in 1933, leaving the international chess scene.
Image: GM Sultan Khan (right) playing against his patron Sir Umar Hayat Khan
The international grandmaster title was launched in 1950 by Fide, which granted the title to the leading players in the world who were still alive at that date. There was never any question regarding whether Sultan Khan deserved the title. He was regarded as one of the strongest players in the world during his playing years. He defeated José Raúl Capablanca, world champion from 1921 to 1927 (see game below), at the Hastings tournament in 1930/31. Capablanca described Sultan Khan as a genius.
In a meteoric career, Sultan Khan also beat Rubinstein, Marshall, Yates, Menchik, Colle, Thomas, Alexander, Tartakower, Flohr, Johner, Grob and Bernstein. The issue in 1950 was a practical one – Fide officials were unable to contact him. He had stayed in England as part of the household of his sponsor, Sir Umar Hayat Khan, who had also then returned to his home country.
The Pakistan Chess Federation lobbied Fide during 2023 and finally, on 2 February 2024, Sultan Khan received retrospective conferment of his honorary international grandmaster title during a ceremony with the president and prime minister of Pakistan in Islamabad.
Sultan Khan had been a member of Kingston Chess Club and played for Surrey for a period towards the end of his stay in London. The club pledged its support to the president of the Pakistan Chess Federation, Hanif Qureshi, when he visited London as part of the London Chess Conference in 2023.
There are two ways to respond to a defeat – cry about it or learn from it. The second method is generally better, as this instructive assessment by FM Julian Way of the Dragon Variation of the Sicilian Defence demonstrates
Julian Way in action in the recent Alexander Cup semi-final against Coulsdon. Photograph: John Saunders
I lost a rather insipid game against Jenith Wiratunga in a match against Maidenhead in December. The opening was the Dragon variation of the Sicilian Defence. After a few days licking my wounds, I resolved to investigate some classic games in this line and at least come out of the game with greater knowledge to compensate for my lost rating points and damaged ego.
The games which I found for this article offer three different approaches: in game 1 Bobby Fischer plays the Soltis variation of the Yugoslav Attack (9. Bc4) and crushes Bent Larsen after opening lines on the kingside; in game 2 Anatoly Karpov plays a nice endgame against Tony Miles which shows that White often has good chances when there is reduced material; in game 3 Nigel Short responds to Julian Hodgson’s early d5 break in the centre with convincing attacking play.
There are a lot more games to analyse, especially ones from contemporary grandmaster play, but I genuinely think my understanding has improved and I thank Jenith Wiratunga for the free chess lesson.
Game 1: Robert Fischer v Bent Larsen(Portoroz, 1958)
Game 2: Anatoly Karpov v Tony Miles(London, 1982)
Game 3: Nigel Short v Julian Hodgson (Brighton, 1982)
Kingston members outline what they plan to do differently this year – and admit to whether they kept to the resolutions they made in 2023
Peter Lalić: In 2024, I will play the longest tournament games ever recorded. Photograph: John Saunders
Peter Lalić: In 2023, I achieved all of my New Year’s resolutions, except for one. Alas, I am not celebrating. I did quit 1. h3, but I pioneered dubious gambits instead. I did play faster, but I still suffered from time trouble. I did continue to study zero endgames, but I was tempted by some rook and bishop versus rook endgames that I spectated. I did win more games in the opening, but I also lost more. I did not become a Fide master. In fact, my Fide rating fell more than 100 elo points to a decade low of 2081. In 2024, I will play the longest tournament games ever recorded. I will never offer a draw.
Graeme Buckley: (1) Don’t get into time trouble. (2) Don’t take any notice whatsoever of the rating difference between you and your opponent, especially if your opponent is unknown to you.
David Maycock: I didn’t accomplish my main objective in 2023, which was gaining rating points. However, I did manage to study more chess than in 2022, which is good. I have set three objectives for 2024:
(1) Understand openings better. It is difficult to play an opening that is not part of your normal repertoire, but I nevertheless intend to venture into new lines and experiment more. This will enable me both to widen my repertoire and to gain a more general understanding of openings. There may be short-term pain, but in the interests of long-term gain.
(2) Develop my puzzle-solving skills. I need to be sharper, so will be solving more calculation problems. I strongly dislike calculation exercises, but I have to accept that they improve your general vision.
(3) Practise more blindfold chess. Not looking at the board has proved to be useful for some players, such as Vasyl Ivanchuk. Which is not to suggest that by the end of 2024 I will necessarily be playing like Ivanchuk.
David Maycock: I need to be sharper, so will be solving more calculation problems. Photograph: John Saunders
Gregor Smith: My 2023 resolutions were: (1) Reduce gambits with White. I seem to always play as Black, it’s about 80% of my league games, and when I rarely play as White, my opponents seem to always play the Scandinavian, so the success of this resolution is inconclusive. (2) Study more. I completed two Chessable courses and watched hundreds of videos. I’m happy with that. (3) Stop playing blitz into the early hours. Chess.com tells me I played 1,941 games in 2023. That feels like a lot, but I did try to switch off at midnight and let Daniel Naroditsky’s dulcet YouTube tones put me to sleep instead. Semi-successful. This year, it’s time to try and gain confidence in endgames, where too often my lack of understanding of the fundamentals lets me down.
Mike Healey: In 2023 I said that “as brain cells swiftly disappear” I would “find some openings which try to mask the decline”. I found some new openings, but they certainly didn’t mask the decline.
Mike Healey: I found some new openings, but they certainly didn’t mask my decline. Photograph: John Saunders
John Foley: Although I had no interest in improving my rating, it climbed 40 points at one point in 2023, putting me out of reach of the Surrey second team where I had been enjoying some victories. I continue to assert indifference to my rating and hope that the enjoyment of play is sufficient motivation.
The focus on chess in education has been fruitful. I ran the London Chess Conference in March with the support of Fide, the European Chess Union (ECU) and Chess in Schools and Communities (CSC). I hope to do so again in 2024 depending upon sponsors. I ran both a summer chess camp and a Christmas chess camp for children. I hope to extend this by adding an Easter chess camp. At these camps I teach not only chess but also strategy games such as Halma, Reversi and Slimetrail.
I have been regularly volunteering at Tudor Drive library in Kingston, where children drop in to play chess after school. The main challenge of the year ahead will be to establish the Kingston Chess Academy. This will be a local resource for youngsters to play and develop at chess. As president of Kingston Chess Club, I wish for the club to continue to thrive. I have been intimately involved in the evolution of the website using WordPress and in managing the membership system MemberMojo. I hope we are able to relaunch a club newsletter in the not too distant future.
John Foley: The main challenge for 2024 will be to set up the Kingston Chess Academy. Photograph: John Saunders
Peter Andrews: In 2023 I resolved to vary my openings when playing online blitz, so as to deceive prospective opponents who might prepare for me by looking through those games. In practice I played some different lines, some of them offbeat, against opponents below about 1950 and more often when I was White. That might give an opponent a bit more to look at, but hardly deception on the George Smiley scale. Those who have seen my recent blog (the game against Marcus Osborne) and the report of the Kingston B v Maidenhead B match will know that twice in recent months I have lost from good positions through missing the possibility of a backward diagonal move by my own queen. So for 2024 I must pay more attention to those.
Ed Mospan: My chess resolution for 2024 is to reach 1600 ECF in standard classical play. Hahaha!!
Ian Mason: To read one chess book (rather than observe it on the shelf); to learn the Caro-Kann; to improve my endgame play.
David Rowson: Until just now I’d largely forgotten what my 2023 resolutions were, which suggests how well I put them into practice. Looking at the blog from last year, I’m surprised to find that I did completely fulfil one of them – “As captain of Kingston’s first team, help our excellent squad to fulfil their potential by winning everything we can (ie the Surrey League and Thames Valley division 1)” – which was thanks to the great efforts of our first-team players. I also partially (very partially) fulfilled another – study the endgame – simply because I had to teach some endgame principles to a chess class I had at City Lit. I think it’s traditional to make the same resolutions every year, isn’t it, so I’ll go with that for 2024. More seriously, I’d like to show more toughness and concentration at crunch points in games, assuming that I’m aware when these arise.
David Rowson: I’d like to show more toughness and concentration at crunch points. Photograph: John Saunders
Stephen Moss: As Peter Lalić pointed out to me, I make the same resolution every year – to give up playing the horribly passive Nf6 Scandinavian. The one time I tried to played the Lalić gambit version of the Scandinavian I was crushed, so at the moment I have no idea what to play against 1. e4, which clearly in chess is a bit of a problem. (As Hein Donner said of e4: “I don’t like this move. And my opponents know it.”) So, can I resolve to learn the Sicilian, all 114 pages of it in Modern Chess Openings? Probably not.
I had a kind of epiphany at the 4NCL in November when I played a long game which I actually enjoyed and got a draw against psychologist and chess writer Barry Hymer, who is rated 1950-plus. I hadn’t enjoyed a game so much in years, and on the strength of it I agreed to resurrect the Rookie for a column in Chess Magazine. It will run monthly from February, so I resolve to try to play some chess that is worthy of including in it.
Julian Way: I will develop a new repertoire against the Sicilian Defence in 2024. Photograph: John Saunders
Julian Way: I find having structure in my life helpful and necessary, and would like more structure – set times for doing things, an ordered pattern of work, even more organised chess study – as I plan for 2024. That in itself should help my chess, but, as well as carrying on writing articles on great players for Chess Magazine and analysing their games, I will also think about a new chess project in the New Year – maybe developing a fresh repertoire v the Sicilian Defence.
Ljubica Lazarevic: Play some chess!
John Saunders: My chess resolution for 2024, as every year, is not to play any chess!
Alan Scrimgour: My resolution is to improve my calculation skills with daily practice. Having just read Peter Andrews’ excellent blog I was reminded of my many missed opportunities. I think I have played too many moves based on general principles and not on concrete analysis, probably linked also to not working hard enough at the board. So, more calculation practice and more focused effort at the board. Sorted.
Alan Scrimgour: More calculation practice and more focused effort at the board. Photograph: John Saunders
Jaden Mistry (aged 12): My chess resolution in 2023 was to improve my focus in the longer format of the game. My father, who taught me chess, told me I played as if I might miss my bus. That also meant he got little time to enjoy his Guinness at the Willoughby Arms. So how did I do? The average duration of my games in league matches increased as the season progressed. (So I ended up giving my father a bit more time to enjoy his Guinness while waiting for me to finish.) While my consistency in performance when playing for the club in third-team matches did not improve as much as I would have wanted, I did manage to score my first memorable win (on 20 March 2023). My performance in the shorter format though, especially in blitz, improved more than in the classical format. I managed to spring some surprises by beating some giants in blitz tournaments organised locally by our club, and in the process win the Giantkiller prize twice in 2023.
My goal for 2024 is to improve my performance, especially in endgames. I want to study some advanced strategies, nail those tricky endgames, and improve my performance for the club. My aim is to improve my rating, which has slumped a bit in recent months, perhaps partly due to having to make the transition to secondary school life. Overall, I want to help my club shine in the divisions I currently play in. I hope to make 2024 the year we at KCC rule the chessboard together!
Jaden Mistry (in red hoodie) in action in a league match against Surbiton’s Colin Li. Photograph: Stephen Moss
Malcolm Mistry: Technically, I don’t play for the club and would rather call myself a chess dad and not a player. While I don’t mind an occasional game to get bruised and battered by my son Jaden, who I have been religiously accompanying to the club over the past two years, machine-learning algorithms and AI in chess have fascinated me most. I have vivid memories of Deep Blue in its early days in the mid- and late 1990s. My chess resolution for 2024 is to read up on the progress made by artificial intelligence in modern chess, and understand the anatomy of chess algorithms such as AlphaZero, developed by David Silver and colleagues. Should time permit from my regular academic and research life, I would like to write a review article documenting the historical timeline of the different machine algorithms and their performance against GMs.
Nick Grey: (1) Drink less when playing chess. Even soft drinks or water make me want to go to the loo, so no drinking will help me concentrate on chess. (2) Analyse my games. Spend twice as much time analysing afterwards as time spent playing is a good measure. Should improve my rating and my game. (3) Learn white and black closed openings and middle games. This should balance my games and stop me from being too aggressive with either colour. (4) Enjoy playing chess even if my individual results are bad.
Vladimir Li: In 2023 I fulfilled my main objective – returning to competitive chess. In 2024 I resolve to read five non-opening chess books, play at least one classical Fide-rated tournament, become a more well-rounded player and make fewer draws.
Vladimir Li: I will aim to become a more well-rounded player and make fewer draws. Photograph: John Saunders
Dieter McDougall: My resolution is to improve my visualisation to the point where I can play a blindfold game. My visualisation of the board isn’t great and it’s something I’ve wanted to be able to do for ages, so this year I need to make it a regular thing to practise.
David Shalom: I must curb my impulsivity.
Will Taylor: Rather predictably, I failed to achieve last year’s resolution to stop getting into time trouble. I won’t bother to make the same resolution again this year. This year’s resolution is to work less on openings and more on identifying and then resolving the problems which actually cost me most points (I’m pretty sure that’s not the opening). I’m interested in working with a sports psychologist, so I’ll look into that.
Will Taylor: I’m interested in working with a sports psychologist, so I’ll look into that. Photograph: John Saunders
David Bickerstaff: Over the past few months, I have been experiencing a growing sense of confidence in my understanding of positional ideas, middlegame strategies and practical endgames. However, I have recognised a deficiency in my knowledge of concrete theory, and thus my immediate goals revolve around addressing this gap. I have a five-point plan:
(1) I aim to develop a comprehensive opening repertoire, ensuring a thorough grasp of various strategies, ideas, common themes and resulting pawn structures. This will prevent me from constantly switching between different opening lines.
(2) I intend to expand my knowledge of theoretical endgames.
(3) I need to invest more effort in analysing my games, and plan to use database software to organise my analysis.
(4) Although I differ from most players in my lack of enthusiasm for puzzles, I understand the importance of sharpening my tactical skills. Therefore, I will commit to a daily plan that includes puzzle-solving, despite finding them somewhat tedious compared to playing actual games.
(5) I recognise the necessity of creating a study plan and adhering to it consistently.
Mark Sheridan: My resolution is to continue studying the endgame, as I did not get very far with it in 2023. I did buy a book, but seem to have forgotten how to download it into my brain.
Ergo Nobel: My resolution for 2024 is to learn to play an incredibly annoying variation of the Sicilian Defence. I want to annoy other players as much as it annoys me to play against it as White.
A colourful wall and doors in Palermo: Sicilian Defences will be ubiquitous in 2024. Photograph: Cristina Gottardi
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
Peter Andrews reflects on what might have been
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.
It is time to modernise the way players are valued. Their contribution to the team’s performance should take into account the importance of the game given the margin of victory. I examine the recent Alexander Cup victory by Kingston
John Foley
This was the most successful season in our history. At our recent annual general meeting, the number of games played by each player was praised. Each person’s contribution over the season makes a difference. Traditionally there have been prizes awarded for the best performance over the season. At Kingston, we have trophy dedicated for that purpose – the elusive Silver Queen. However, this year we did not award the prize or pore over the game statistics, which was a welcome relief. Instead, we paid tribute to the effort made by our players. There were no defaults – we managed to get a full team out each match. This season we had 60 matches, double that of last season. Each match is a challenge in terms of assembling the team and travel logistics, quite apart from fretting about the chess itself.
We can reflect on what went well. Most of all, credit goes to the players. According to our club survey, most of our members are seeking to improve their chess. This is why we try to give each member as many games as possible. Even a draw can make a difference in a tight match. We want our players not only to perform well, but also to have a fighting spirit. No accepting draws to save some Elo points, but instead strive for a team victory. Several matches turned on just one game. If only there were a way to place a precise value on each player’s results, taking into account the importance of their game towards the overall result. Fortunately, there is a rigorous way of doing this – the Shapley value of a game.
Lloyd Shapley was a game theorist who won the Nobel Prize for Economics in 2012. His big idea was to find a way to unravel the contributions made by each member of a team towards a result. This problem could happen in many diverse contexts, for example sharing the cost of a taxi after a chess match where people travel home to different destinations, or indeed the cost of a celebratory meal.
Alexander Cup winning team v Battersea, 14 April 2023 Photograph: John Saunders
To illustrate the Shapley concept, consider the relative contribution made by members of our victorious Alexander Cup team, captained by Ljubica Lazarevic. We got a bye in the first round and won all three matches from the quarter-final. To keep things simple, I include only the five players who played in each round. Others made sterling contributions – one person winning both the two games they played – but we cannot evaluate their contribution to a match in which they did not participate.
To keep personalities out of this, I shall call the players Albert, Bill, Colin, Dylan and Ethan, A, B, C, D, E. Their results were as follows:
The traditional way of valuing contributions is to conclude that players B and C performed best because they got the best percentage results. There are two issues with such a inference. Firstly, the higher the board, the stronger the opponent. Of course, this is also a problem with the traditional method. A mitigating factor is that the players are in strength order so, at least in well-matched teams, the ratings of the opposing players are correlated. A more practical consideration is that we want to keep our assessments amenable to simple calculations. If we wanted to be precise, and take into account the expected likelihood of winning based upon Elo ratings, then our calculations would become unwieldy. The second issue is that securing a result in a tight match is more important than winning a game in a match in which one team thrashes the other – the winning point is diluted. This is where we can use the Shapley approach.
We start by considering all the possible combinations of the results of the players. With five players, there are 31 different combinations comprising five single results, 10 pairs, 10 triples, 5 quadruples and one quintuple. In each case, the test is if that combination of players’ results would have secured a victory. If you want to perform a similar calculation yourself, the combination listing for five players is set out at the foot of the column.
Against each combination you indicate whether it would have won the match. The results of the other five “irregular” players remain the same – they are not being evaluated. If a match could have been won, then all the players named in that combination are given a score of 1, otherwise zero. A drawn match can be ignored in the context of a knockout cup – we are only interest in results which contribute to a victory.
Having carried out the calculations, the rankings are as follows:
This shows quite a different picture from the traditional format. Perhaps the most notable difference is in relation to player D, who has been ranked equally with players B and C. This can be explained by what happened in the semi-final when player D only scored a draw and players B and C won their games. Our “irregular” players had racked up three points out of five games so that the five regular players needed to score 2.5 points. In fact, they won four games and drew one. Under this scenario, any combination involving results from only one or two players would be insufficient. However, if we look at combinations of three games, then whether we score 2.5 or 3 Kingston achieves victory. Hence, the contribution of Player B is worth the same as for players B and C. We can recognise D as equally deserving praise.
Another aspect of the Shapley approach is that it is a fairer description of the relative contribution of each player. On the traditional approach, B and C are given all the plaudits. However, under systematic scrutiny we can see that the contribution of all the players is much closer: each player contributes around one-fifth to the success of the team, with relatively small differences, which places three players at 21%, with the other two players being slightly below 20%. This is surely more reflective of how the team members and captain felt about their relative contributions.
Shapley values are different from Elo ratings. Both depend upon performance, but Shapley takes into account the state of the match, whereas Elo ratings only take into account the two players concerned. Shapley is about co-operative teams, whereas Elo is about competing individuals.
Chess should start to rank team players according to game theory. Each chess league, as a service to their constituent clubs, could publish the Shapley rankings for each of the players. Other sports can follow. This is what happened with Elo ratings, which other sports such as football adopted after several decades.
England win silver at the World Team Championships, Astana 2019. Photograph: Maria Emelianova