Luke McShane is chess columnist for The Spectator.
Black to play. From Stepanov–Romanovsky, Lenin-grad 1926. Stepanov resigned two moves earlier, seeing that he would soon lose his queen. Romanovsky has just one winning move. Which one? Answers to ‘Chess’ at The Spectator by Tuesday 29 October or via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery.
White to play, Black to win. Shirov-Caruana from the Isle of Man. Caruana threatens 53... d1=Q 54.Qxd1 Qxb2 mate. Shirov resigned, rather than try 53.Bf7-b3 to block the b-file. What finishing touch had he foreseen for Caruana? Difficulty: Moderate. Answers via email to victoria@spectator.-co.uk by Tuesday 22 October. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery.
‘Poor indoor air quality hampers cognitive performance significantly’, concluded a recent study in the IZA (Institute of Labour Economics). Of course, ‘fresh air is good for you’ fits squarely in the category of things you knew already, but the research was specifically about chess: ‘An increase in the indoor concentration of fine particulate matter (PM2.5) by 10 µg/m3 increases a player’s probability of making an erroneous move by 26.3 per cent.’ Intriguingly, the effect seems most pronounced when players are in time pressure. By my reckoning, that makes it pretty easy to induce mild stultification: burning a few incense sticks ought to do it. It’s scarcely credible now, but smoking at the board was once commonplace.
White to play. The final game of the match between Radjabov and Ding. White’s safer king confers a huge advantage, but Radjabov finished with a flourish. What did he play? Difficulty: easy. Answers to me at The Spectator by Tuesday 15 September or via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery.
‘Chess is a constant struggle between my desire not to lose and my desire not to think.’ I’m fond of that wry insight, neatly expressed by German grandmaster Jan Gustafsson. For a select few, such as the late, irrepressible Viktor Korchnoi, the desire not to lose burns through life like the Olympic flame. For the rest of us, only youthful naivety makes it easy to summon maximal mental effort. Thereafter, the struggle is perennial, like a pile of dirty plates in the sink; sometimes you can’t bring yourself to care. But letting this notion occur to you too early in life is a career-limiting move for a chess-player. Upon reaching the final of the World Cup, Teimour Radjabov spoke frankly, reflecting on the tension endured by the players.
Black to play. Here is my own tragedy, from Yuffa-McShane, Khanty-Mansiysk 2019. Needing a win, I tried 81 … Kg7-f7 to corral the knight, but it soon escaped. What should I have played instead? Difficulty: easy, but not for me! Answers via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk by Tuesday 8 October. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery.
‘Visky,’ said the man driving the taxi. ‘Risky?’ ‘Visky.’ ‘Ah… whisky! Or vodka.’ I grinned as I got out. ‘Maybe see you last year,’ I ventured in bungled Russian. There was no bottle to hand, but my wounded ego was soothed by the prescription. I’d been freshly eliminated from the World Cup in Siberia in a blitz tiebreak by Daniil Yuffa, an amiable young Russian. Two years ago, Daniil appeared on a Russian talent show (and YouTube). He simultaneously played three games of chess — blindfolded — and accompanied his own spectacle with a classical piano medley. Two days after beating me, he was out too. So it goes.