2003-02-15 - 11:54 p.m.

Amateur Teams, Day One

Once again I find that I've fallen behind in this journal. The main reason for this is the tournament I go to every year over Presidents' Day Weekend - the U.S. Amateur Team East, a rather long-winded name. Essentially, it's the U.S. Team championship, and it's held in four locations across the U.S., South, West, Midwest and East. The East is where it started more than 30 years ago, and it dwarfs the other three in size. It's so big that it attracts players from all over - for instance this year's winning team came from Texas, and could have easily played in the Team South - but I'm getting ahead of myself.

This year's event had the most players ever, 265 four-player teams, making it the biggest team chess tournament ever held in the Western Hemisphere. The site was a large corporate hotel in northern New Jersey, and when we arrived the place was totally thronged with chessplayers.

There were three teams coming from our area, two teams from the Frown Town Chess Club and one from the eastern part of our area. I was playing on the Frown Town "A" team, but I was playing board three.

There was a surreal moment just before the start of the first round. In the last couple of years there have been multiple chess teams from the armed forces, and the West Point team has been much in evidence. After the director made some introductory remarks, the cadets performed a flag ceremony, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance.

This display made me feel a little awkward: I don't think I've recited the Pledge since I was in grade school, and in this particular instance I had the uncomfortable feeling I was giving tacit approval to the military's upcoming adventure in Iraq. Still, I recited the Pledge along with everyone else: after all, I am an American.

Towards the end of the Pledge I became aware of a noise that sounded like a baby crying. It took a few seconds for me to realize that it was just a kid with an incredibly whiney voice complaining loudly. I couldn't really hear what he was saying completely, but he seemed to be objecting to the delay in getting the round started.

I made my way over to the table my team was playing at, only to discover that this squeaky guy was at the next table. Grandmaster Joel Benjamin was playing there as well and he told the complainer, a pudgy boy who looked around fifteen, to shut up. This had the opposite effect: the boy then started shouting at Benjamin saying: "Just because you're a grandmaster doesn't mean you can tell me what to do!" The boy got very agitated and tried to grab Benjamin, but his one of his teammates held his arms. He wriggled free and hit Benjamin a glancing blow that sent his glasses flying. His teammates restrained him again, and a minute later hotel security hustled him out of the room.

From what I could see, this wasn't a case of someone being a conscientious objector to the Pledge of Allegiance - it was more like a crackpot who didn't take his happy pills that morning having a temper tantrum.

Round 1: Uberhamster (1930) vs. Boston non-Master (1,990)

In typical fashion, my teammates and I were paired up in the first round, against some strong players from the Boston area. I recognized the players on the first three boards and I recollected that my opponent was of master strength.

He played a very theoretical line of the Sicilian Defense, a distressing prospect. I like playing the Open Sicilian, but it has the serious drawback that there are lines that have been studied so deeply that unless you have memorized them fifteen moves deep, you'll be lost in the opening. What on earth am I doing playing openings like this against strong players??

However, just by trying to play solid moves I was following the book line, in fact my opponent varied first, making a move that should have cost him a pawn. I didn't go into that variation, and so merely got a position that was slightly better. I tried to press him but the game soon became locked up and drawish. I was starting to get into time trouble when my opponent offered a draw - we had already lost two games and looked to be losing a third. He wanted to clinch the match, and I couldn't think of a way not to oblige him. Luckily my decision was made easier when we lost the third game.

After the game I found out that my opponent, a Russian fellow in his 50s, was not a master but only rated a few points higher than me. Oh well.

Game Two: Unlucky C-Player (1,450) vs. Uberhamster (1,930)

After our 3 1/2 - 1/2 drubbing the previous round we were paired way down, against a team that should have been easy pickings. As they say - with pride goeth before a fall.

My opponent played an unusual opening that I was a little familiar with, but I believe that my way of answering this opening is faulty. I gave up a center pawn for a wing pawn, and while my initial development was easy, I soon ran into problems against his rock-solid position. I added to my problems by giving up a bishop for a knight in order to mess up his pawns. Unfortunately, I couldn't take advantage of his weak pawns and now he could harass me with his two bishops.

I was in trouble and I knew it. I began to eat up a lot of time on the clock to try to find a way out of the mess I was in. Every line I looked at seem to wind up costing me a piece. Finally, I was down to five minutes for twenty moves, and I had to start blitzing. I played a bad move that mixed up the position, giving my opponent a pawn. He then made my life easier by trading off his deadly bishops. However, this left him with a rook ending that looked lost for me.

I was playing very fast, and very well under the circumstances, but my opponent was playing just as fast as I was in spite of having plenty of time. This is a mistake: when you have a time advantage you should TAKE YOUR TIME. If you play just as fast, you are essentially putting yourself on an equal footing with your time-short opponent.

I barely made the time control, but I was three pawns down and clearly lost. I continued playing quickly. After all, why bother tearing my brain up over a game that was just lost? For some strange reason my opponent was still playing as fast as I was, and this proved to be his undoing.

We both had dangerous passed pawns, and he had to let me take his so he could stop mine. Instead he pushed his passed pawn farther, and I attacked it with my rook. He then blocked the file with his rook, a terrible blunder. I traded rooks, and when he recaptured his king was too far away to stop my passed pawn, but my king could easily stop his. In a state of shock, my opponent played on a few more moves, then resigned.

My opponent, a college student, was furious with himself for throwing away a win against a player rated 500 points over his head, but he manfully kept his temper under control. Later one of my team-mates reported seeing him in the bar, complaining to someone about the One That Got Away.

I felt bad that I'd bamboozled him like that, and if it had been an individual event I might have offered a draw at the very end, but in a team event it was a luxury I couldn't afford. Every half-point is precious.