A morning spent sightseeing provides a fresh burst of energy, and the Welsh women’s team captain claims an unlikely scalp in the strangest of chess-playing settings
Michael Healey
On leaving the tournament hall I am asked by the Jersey girls whether I’m going to the Bermuda party; I suggest we don’t need a second English chessplayer making international headlines for partying violence. Despite sharing a hotel with Bermuda, it has nothing to do with them any more. Some of the Welshies attend and return in the wee small hours. The music is loud, the people many, the alcohol mixerless and the banquets of food completely unnecessary. Lorin D’Costa, the England women’s coach, manages to hospitalise himself. Otherwise I don’t have much gossip to report; find a cooler blog.
I had intended going (even brought a suit out from the UK), but felt too fed up after the Tunisia match; especially as the party involved bussing back to near the tournament venue. I find myself up at 6am, my usual time in India to fret about the next day’s prep, and wonder why the aircon is so fricking cold. However, today I’m thinking about team morale. An Olympian friend back in the UK has suggested cake and alcohol. So I should make my semi-teen team alcoholic full-on diabetics, if Indian desserts haven’t already accomplished this. Such is chess.
On the rest day, Liv is keen to Uber to the local Mahabalipuram temples early before the trips arrive. I agree to join. The Ketts and Greg Toczek, top board in the Welsh Open team, complete this daring dawn expedition. Everywhere are granite statue shops; before lockdown the sound of chipping was apparently 24 hours a day. Now things are quiet: a couple of tour guides, a few motorbikes and some stray dogs. The element of surprise has been achieved. Liv negotiates our tour guide’s price down, while I look embarrassed. The temples are in three sections, the Rathas being the most impressive. There are five separate temples in different styles, as well as an elephant, a lion and a lovely bull – all carved from one single rock. Properly impressive.
The cave temples are pleasant, with some very interesting carvings. The guide informs us of all the different gods and their families, but I’m more interested in the chimaeric ones. There are supposedly four different styles of lion; when I point out that one seems to be a griffin, that’s clearly not in the script. We move on to more temples and a big balancing boulder, which I decide would make a decent photo. I pull out my ever-present set from my sweat-covered backpack and invite Tim to play: then an Indian lady shows interest, and I suggest she plays instead.
It turns out this is none other than the missing fifth India 2 player, their board two rested against my girls in round one, IM Padmini Rout! We have a quick game under the rock, and I recover some pride from that whitewash. Padmini is lovely, from a different part of India and has always wanted to visit these famous temples.
When we finish, a local journalist is keen to take my details – not the first time I’ve had to spell out WALES. I rejoin the others, and such is my glee at winning the game I spend an obscene amount of money on a local bit of tat by an interesting up-and-coming artist – a display of dancing gods, with hidden sections of what can only be described as “doodles” of animals and … well, porn. I can’t stop smiling, but Liv is livid with the price, quality and pornographic nature of my purchase. I explain that it means something different to me: forever after, when I flick through these crude pornographic sketches, I’ll remember my victorious rook endgame against Padmini.
The final temple, the largest, is by the sea. It is quite the “Thalatta! Thalatta!” moment; Trapped in the cruel circuit of hotel-venue-hotel-venue, we’ve only seen the sea from certain hotel room windows. Here it is for real, a beach with sand and waves and salty breeze. We have a paddle in the Bay of Bengal, whilst Greg strips off to his boxers and goes full Daniel Craig. We pose for photos with locals. How different life will be when people don’t think I’m incredibly famous. (To be honest, the pretty, freckly, blue-eyed Liv is probably the real photo target, but I grin just the same.) It’s been a great morning, and as we leave stuff is opening up, the tourists proper a-coming.
In the taxi back, Tim sets a Kobayashi Maru test. Should a captain prioritise:
1. Team result
2. Individual title possibilities
3. All-round team happiness through squad rotation and balanced colours
Thank goodness this wasn’t on the job application! First thing to note is that these are mutually exclusive, and that they can’t just be sorted out by muddling through ex tempore. I’ve heard enough about Olympiad teams dramatically imploding, causing players to refuse to play, leave, be banned or even switch federations. I acknowledge 1 and 2 are very important, but would prefer a happy team which will live to fight another day, rather than one which falls apart with several rounds left.
Thankfully with only four players proper, I don’t have to worry about colours, rotation and all that jazz. Back at the hotel one of our assigned volunteers is astonished not only that we met national heroine Padmini, but that I got a result against her. When she is shown my precious porno purchase, I quickly return to laughable moron status. It’s what I’m most comfortable with.
We are up against Saudi Arabia in round seven. They are a completely ungraded team, and we have little idea what we’re facing. Liv decides to chance a king’s gambit, the Saudi coach placing a hand over his face at 2. f4. A 14-move win. Hiya offers a draw to stop the rot, and we’re 1.5-0.5 up. My prep nearly works for Khushi and Kim; Khushi gets a fantastic position, but Kim’s opponent plays a sideline. After a frankly inexplicable game, Kim wins – she was due a bit of luck – but Khushi can’t convert and loses another endgame. At least my prep worked. More important, it is a win – a palpable win!
Round eight pits us against Ethiopia. Massively underrated, the top two boards can clearly move the bits; indeed their board one, Lidet Abate Haile, is having a fantastic tournament and took a WIM to rook versus rook and bishop. In the morning, Liv and I teach Khushi an entirely new system – which works! Unfortunately having got to a decent middlegame, she promptly misses Qd6, intending Qxh2#. It’s been a long tournament, and she’s had so many great games. This is pretty much her only big blip. Hiya as so often comes out of the traps at full speed, and then continues to absolutely railroad her opponent. A great show of dominance, proving what she can do.
Kim faces an early h6?!, which completely frazzles her. Soon her position is a mess, and she drops a piece. Instead of resigning, she shows Healey-esque lack of respect and goes into full-out cheapo mode. Her opponent is inattentive, and finds herself bizarrely losing either a rook or queen, then succumbs to the re-energised Chong.
Liv on one has outplayed her opponent in the opening with Black, pinning her up against the first rank wall; but White won’t give up. Liv overpresses in the centre, and things are going wrong. In time trouble the Ethiopian player makes a few unchoice moves and falls into a mating net. 3-1 from 0-1 down!
Those of age retreat to a hotel room and celebrate with some illicitly smuggled beers, kindly donated by Khushi’s dad. The Welsh women’s team is back from the dead!
