Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Is Maurice Ashley an Alien?

While watching the video commentary for the first game of the Kamsky-Shulman match, I was struck by the stunning enormity of Maurice Ashley's cranium.

I was reminded of the following dialogue about the exceptionally large-headed boy "Head" in So I Married An Axe Murderer:

Stuart: Look at the size of that boy's heed.
Tony: Shhh!
Stuart: I'm not kidding, it's like an orange on a toothpick.
Tony: Shhh, you're going to give the boy a complex.
Stuart: Well, that's a huge noggin. That's a virtual planetoid.
Tony: Shh!
Stuart: Has it's own weather system.
Tony: Sh, sh, shh.
Stuart: HEAD! MOVE!
The suspiciously macrocephalous Ashley.

 
Since it's well-known that aliens--being approximately three times smarter than humans--need correspondingly expanded craniums to contain their oversized brains, an unusually large head is often a dead giveaway that an extra-terrestrial is in your midst.

Bearing that in mind, take a look at the rather extensive noggin in the photo to the right, and ask yourself: is Maurice Ashley an alien?

And if he is an alien (as is almost certainly the case) : what the heck are we gonna do about it?!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Zatonskih-Abrahamyan: When Groovy Birds Collide

Well, it looks like we've got ourselves an old-fashioned Sexy-Chick Smackdown in the US Women's Championship Finals, with #1 seed Anna "Zadonkadonk" Zatonskih facing off against Tatev "Totty the Hottie" Abrahamyan.




Personally, I've been rooting for Tatev throughout the event, having been smitten with her ever since she inflicted a crushing defeat upon me in a sidewalk blitz event in LA several years ago (plus she's Armenian, and I can't resist hairy women). The fact that Tatev was the second-lowest rated player in the tournament, yet is now within one match of being crowned Miss Chess America, really testifies to her skill.

Number-two seed (and 2010 champion) Irina "the Seahorse" Krush was unfortunately eliminated in the semifinal round, after putting up a heroic fight to extend her match vs. Zatonskih all the way to the last hurdle, before finally getting "tonsked" in the blitz phase.

(Some of my quillions of readers have asked why Krush is known as "the Seahorse." This stretches back to a cryptic comment made years ago by my friend Igor Yagglemeister, in connection with an obscure Russian saying about guinea pigs; but though no one quite grasped the Slavic allusion, the nickname stuck anyway, and is now in parlance among chessplayers from the towering cliffs of Sheboygan to the tapir-infested jungles of Boston. For what it's worth, the staff here at Chess Indeed don't think Krush resembles a seahorse at all, unless maybe in the schnozz area a little bit.)

Regarding the outcome of the final, Chess Indeed's man on the street Sir Robin of Sheboygan says: "I am hoping for a naked-Jell-O wrestling Armageddon match to decide the winner if they end up all tied!" A tie-break system I have been promoting to the USCF for quite some time now (with cream corn being an acceptable alternative to Jell-O).

In conclusion, I'd just like to wish Tatev inch bes es, which is Armenian for how are you, because I don't know how to say "good luck."

Monday, April 18, 2011

A Chain of Plaskettian Coincidences

The other day, my dear English friend Carol Towny (the daughter, as it turns out, of Peter Wollin, chess champion of the County of Hertfordshire in the 1960s), happened to mention a BBC Radio 2 personality with the odd name Fenella Fudge. I assumed this curious moniker must be a "stage name" (perhaps an allusion to the 70's rock band Vanilla Fudge), since it seemed to me few parents would be so cruel as to stamp their baby daughter with the highly mockable label "Fenella Fudge".

But when Carol professed ignorance of said rock band, I decided to do a little research, to determine once and for all the origin of this woman's psilly-psounding pseudonym. After searching for some time, I finally came across this page in the "Quite Interesting" talk forum, whereon it is peremptorily stated that not only is the name "Fenella Fudge" completely unconnected to the 70's rock band, it isn't a stage name at all: it's the woman's actual (if somewhat unfortunate) post-matrimonial designation.

But it was something else on that page that led me to the rather remarkable coincidence which is the subject of today's Chess Indeed post. A few entries further down in that discussion thread is a post about the Edgar Allan Poe novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, in which a sailor named Richard Parker is cannibalized by his starving companions. This fictional episode prefigured, with haunting accuracy, an identical true event which occurred 80 years later, in which a man with the same name perished in exactly the same way.

The link which accompanied this uncanny revelation pointed to a rather garish page of some UK psychic website, on which an excerpt from the Fortean Times had been pasted--and to my surprise, I found mentioned in that extract the names of two well-known chessplayers, Jonathan Tisdall and Michael Stean. It turned out the article was written by none other than GM James Plaskett, the one-time British chess champion who, among other notable achievements, once won a quarter of a million pounds in the UK version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

As it happens, Plaskett has a blog called Living the Dream: A Coincidence Diary, in which he recounts various coincidences which occur in his life, and also in the lives of people he knows. Clearly fascinated by coincidences, Plaskett has gone so far as to write a book about them, titled (appropriately) Coincidences.

Thus, a chance remark warbled out by an English bird, about a BBC radio personality with an absurd name, led me, by the unlikely route of Edgar Allan Poe and cannibalism, to the chess champion and quiz show winner James Plaskett: a condign conclusion to a curious concatenation of coincidences (though truth be told, I don't consider Plaskett the end of this particular chain of synchronicities, but rather a midway link--and I am currently perusing his blog to find the next link, whatever that may turn out to be--and wherever in this bizarre world it may lead in the end).

As always, my quillions of readers will be the first to know of any further developments along this intriguing line.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Who's That Girl?

This picture was sent in by one of Chess Indeed's most valued correspondents, Sir Robin of Sheboygan, who has a knack for finding the most remarkable images on the Internet.


In this case, however, it's not a web image--it's a photograph Sir Robin took of his girlfriend, Marian, during a recent skittles game the couple played at their palatial Sheboygan estate.

"She happened to be wearing an outfit that nicely matched our kitchen decor," writes Sir Robin, "so I snapped a quick shot with my i-Phone and and sent it on to the finest chess blog the world has ever known."

Thanks, Sir Robin--for both the photo and the compliment! Modesty forbids me to accept the latter, but it would be perverse to deny that Chess Indeed  has, in the few short weeks of its existence, more or less eclipsed all other chess blogs. It's all in the numbers: quillions of readers can't be wrong!

Meanwhile, Sir Robin: you might consider entering Maid Marian in my upcoming Sexy Chicks of Chess contest. More on that soon!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

U.S. Championship Looms Large...As Do Chubby Arbiters

The word from Sheboygan this morning is that the 2011 US Championships begin Friday in St. Louis.

(I'm told that St. Louis himself is not expected to participate in this year's event, having been dead for over eight hundred years--though that didn't stop Korchnoi from playing him in a 2006 "seance match.")

Two separate Round Robins will determine who plays in the semifinals. This actually irks me, because first of all: who the hell are these Robin guys? And what does their body type have to do with it? What, like a Svelte Robin or a Gangly Robin wouldn't be qualified to make this determination?

More importantly: what gives these guys the right to just arbitrarily determine who plays in the semifinals? Why not have the players compete to determine that, as in previous championships?

Nevertheless, as the table below indicates, these corpulent arbiters (who, in true Dr. Seuss fashion, have been designated "#1" and #2) have already divided the field as they see fit:


Round Robin 1
Round Robin 2
No.
First Name
Last Name
 FIDE Rating
No.
First Name
Last Name
FIDE Rating
1.
Gata
Kamsky
2733
1.
Alexander
Onischuk
2678
2.
Yury
Shulman
2622
2.
Yasser
Seirawan
2636
3.
Varuzhan
Akobian
2611
3.
Alexander
Shabalov
2590
4.
Jaan
Ehlvest
2586
4.
Larry
Christiansen
2586
5.
Alexander
Stripunsky
2578
5.
Gregory
Kaidanov
2569
6.
Alexander
Ivanov
2540
6.
Robert
Hess
2565
7.
Ray
Robson
2522
7.
Sam
Shankland
2512
8.
Daniel
Naroditsky
2438
8.
Ben
Finegold
2500
Average Rating
2578.75
Average Rating
2579.5


The women--while much more interesting-looking than the men--apparently don't get their own crosstable: 
  1. IM Anna Zatonskih
  2. IM Irina Krush
  3. IM Rusadan Goletiani
  4. WGM Camilla Baginskaite
  5. WIM Tatev Abrahamyan
  6. WIM Sabina Foisor
  7. FM Alisa Melekhina
  8. WIM Iryna Zenyuk

Monday, April 11, 2011

Spotlight on Sheboygan: Call for Submissions

Each week on Chess Indeed, we showcase the chess of one talented resident of Sheboygan, Wisconsin, the chess mecca of the Western Hemisphere. At the end of the year, my quillions of readers vote on the best game, and the winner receives a certified check for $1,000!*

So Sheboyganites, send in your games! And remember: there just might be a thousand smackers in it for you! **


* Or else a chess book--depending on how well my used guinea pig business happens to be doing that year.
** Probably not, though.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Monokroussan Erratum

Dennis "the Menace" Monokroussos, in his "Chess Mind" blog, claimed today that Judit Polgar "tied for third" at the recent European Individual Championships in France.

However, that is not true. Judit tied for first. She came third on tiebreaks.

"Tied for third" is a nonsense term, as it suggests that others joined her in third place. In truth, three others joined her in first place, and therefore she tied for first, not third.

It is precisely this sort of sloppy reporting that has earned Mr. Monokroussos the epithet "the Menace."

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Trampled by Tots: World Champions Who Bit the Dust Against Children

The news that Vishy Anand got his 2816-rated kiester kicked by the tiny but surprisingly powerful foot of a ten-year-old child in a recent Tashkent simul made me wonder: how young was the youngest child ever to defeat a World Champion?

The ensuing research led to some surprising discoveries! Read on....

1988

Garry Kasparov loses to a 9-year-old Romanian girl named Sarmisa Bilcescu, then accuses her of cheating.

1977

An 8-year-old boy named Nikolai Notkin defeats Anatoly Karpov at the Leningrad Palace of Pioneers. Nikolai is so excited that he wets his pants.

1967

Tigran Petrosian is vanquished by a 7-year-old Rigan boy named Mikhail Flodgâets--who then compounds the Armenian's humiliation by dropping his trousers and bending over (an acceptable form of "victory dance" in Latvia, but frowned upon elsewhere in the world).

1957

Six-year-old Helêne Chateaubriand of Marseilles whips Vassily Smyslov's tuckus in 19 moves, then follows the champion from board to board doing a schoolyard taunt.

1931

A drunken Alexander Alekhine leaves his queen en prise to a fat 5-year-old German named Hansel Grüber, who snatches the hanging piece from the board "as if it were a sausage".

1922

Jose Capablanca, fresh from his recent World Championship victory over Lasker, overlooks a knight fork against 4-year-old Simon Plummer of Manchester, and resigns on move 26.

1899

Emmanuel Lasker forgets the en passant rule and is mercilessly crushed by an Austrian 3-year-old (whose name, alas, has been lost to posterity).

1892

A 2-year-old Swedish prodigy named Ulf Krummhorn utilizes the principle of triangulation to outwit Wilhelm Steinitz--who at that moment begins his notorious slide into madness.


But while some of these cases are quite surprising, none can compare with the most shocking defeat of all: that of the French de facto champion François-André Danican Philidor, who in the year 1769 played a simultaneous exhibition in a Paris salon against eight people: seven adults, and a one-year-old baby named Hêloise Antoinette Lumiêre.

"She barely knew how the pieces moved," Philidor wrote in Analyse du jeu des Échecs (2nd edition), "yet at the crucial moment she produced a mating combination of astonishing brilliance. And then, worst of all--worse by far than the loss itself--she returned to loudly sucking at her bottle, as if by this cruel reminder of her infancy to rub my nose in the shame of my defeat."

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

The Chess Legacy of Sir William Jones

A lovely dryad rang'd the Thracian wild,
Her air enchanting, and her aspect mild:
To chase the bounding hart was all her joy,
Averse from Hymen, and the Cyprian boy;
O'er hills an valleys was her beauty fam'd,
And fair Caissa was the damsel nam'd.

The great claim to fame of the 18th-century British philologist Sir William Jones was that he discovered a link between Sanskrit and Western languages like Latin and Greek. This discovery was a great leap forward in solving the mystery of the world's languages, because it led to the establishment of the hypothetical lost language known as "Proto-Indo-European," which now forms a major pillar of linguistics.

But Jones also gave the chess world a long and beautiful poem called "Caissa, or the Game at Chess," from which the stanza above is taken. Originally written in Latin when Jones was just seventeen years old, the poem elucidates the history and identity of Caïssa (pronounced ky-EE-suh), the mysterious "Thracian dryad" who, thanks to Sir William's poem, presides over our royal game as its "muse" to this day.

If any of my quillions of readers are interested in perusing this worthy work further, it can be found here.

Monday, April 4, 2011

When Grandmasters Suck: 3 Blind Spots

While playing through some old games from the Roaring '20s recently, I happened upon a curious tactical trap, into which no fewer than three grandmasters had fallen (actually, two--one of them fell for it twice). As it is a rather instructive tactic, I decided to share it here, for the benefit of my quillions of readers.

The first game in which the trap occurred was Alekhine-Yates, Baden-Baden 1925, where after 14 moves the following position appeared:

Alekhine-Yates, Baden-Baden 1925
Position after 14...hg

Due to the black queen's lack of luft, White now has the combination 15.Nd5! Since taking the knight allows 16.Bc7, Black is obliged to part with the pawn for no compensation. Alekhine went on to win both the game and the tournament, while Yates went on to drown his sorrows at the local pub.

Three years later this same tactical motif occurred in the game Euwe-Rubinstein, Bad Kissingen 1928. The following position arose after Black's rather dubious 12th move:

Euwe-Rubinstein, Bad Kissingen 1928
Position after 12...Nh5?

That knight on the rim looks a bit dim, because it no longer protects d5, and therefore 13.Nd5! becomes possible. According to Fritz Saemisch, when Rubinstein saw this move appear on the board, eine kleine Menge Pipi ("a little bit of pee") involuntarily escaped him, before the Polish grandmaster regained his composure and bladder control.

But despite that humiliation, Rubinstein fell for the trap a second time, just two years later--and against its inventor, Alexander Alekhine, of all people:

Alekhine-Rubinstein, San Remo 1930
Position after 12...f5

By now the shot 13.Nd5! should come as a surprise to no one except the bewildered Rubinstein--who is said to have swept the pieces from the board at this point and declared, "I am sorry, sir: but the pieces appear to have fallen from the board, and I'm afraid I can no longer remember their positions; therefore it is a draw."

A similar stratagem was attempted in the game Antonius Block-Grim Reaper, Sweden 1349; in both cases, the ruse failed.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Judit Kicks Ass at Euro Championship

Playing some of her most brilliant and exciting chess in years, Judit Polgar finished in a three-way tie for first place at the European Individual Championships in Aix Les Bains, France. Although the tiebreaks may not favor Judit with an outright victory, in this blog she is the winner of the event, since this is a decidedly pro-Judit blog (and anyone who has a problem with that is likely to receive a cyber-boot in their virtual tuckus--you've been warned).

One of Judit's many brilliant combinations from the tournament:

Polgar - Iordachescu, Round 10
Position after 15...a6

Here Polgar showed her legendary courage with 16.cd!, sacrificing the bishop for a long-term attack, which led eventually to a won endgame for the rather plump (but still quite sexy) Hungarian genius. Way to go, Judit! (You can play through the game here.)

This is the first time Judit has taken first place in this strong event, which bodes well for her recent return to full-time chess. It is her second stellar result in six months, following her stunning victory over both Ivanchuk and Topalov at the UNAM Quadrangular in Mexico City last November.

Friday, April 1, 2011

A Curious Position

This curious position was sent in by one of our readers, Sir Robin of Sheboygan, who had played skillfully with the black pieces to reach it in a club game.



Advanced players may spot the mate (1...Qcb1#) without too much difficulty, but alas, good Sir Robin went astray:
"I remembered the rule 'In the endgame, bring your king to the center,' and confidently banged out 1...Kh7--realizing a moment too late that this created stalemate. Son of a bitch!"
Easy there, Sir Robin--it happens to the best of us! The important thing is, you learned a valuable lesson: when you have 42 queens, go on the attack.

A useful rule of thumb to keep in mind.
.

Welcome to Chess Indeed!

A number of people--who shall remain nameless, both to protect their privacy and because I can't be bothered to invent them at the moment--have been pestering me lately to start a chess blog.

It seems that a growing number of individuals in the chess community have grown disenchanted with the trite and hackneyed factual approach to chess coverage, and hunger for something a bit more colorful, a bit more Kafkaesque and surreal.

It is to these people (many of whom are actually alternate personalities of my own) that this blog is dedicated.