Luke McShane

A ‘Fair Play violation’ got the YouTube streamer DrLupo booted out of the most recent series of PogChamps, Chess.com’s online invitational tournament for streamers and athletes, which has a $100,000 prize fund. DrLupo’s transgression was not particularly subtle. In elementary fashion, he blundered his queen for two minor pieces at move 11, only to comprehensively outplay his opponent, WolfeyVGC, who outrated him by more than 700 points on the platform. At first, DrLupo didn’t make things any better by trying to pass it off as an accident. Internet streamers often have a chat window open while they are playing, and inevitably fans will sometimes suggest moves while the games are being played. But DrLupo had not just made one or two unusually good moves.

The other day, a top computer chess engine demolished the world no. 2 Hikaru Nakamura in a series of online blitz games by a 14-2 margin. Nothing unusual in that; computers have played at superhuman levels for decades now, to the point where scoring two points out of 16 counts as an achievement. But those games were also played with knight odds for Nakamura! His opponent, an online chess-playing bot named ‘LeelaKnightOdds’, has been specially tuned to play with a knight missing from the start position. It was adapted from ‘Leela Chess Zero’ (aka LCZero), an open source project based on the ideas behind the AlphaZero engine described in papers by Google DeepMind in 2017.

Vasyl Ivanchuk was at the centre of a heart-rending scene during the tenth round of the World Blitz Championship in New York in December. The former world no. 2 could certainly have won his dramatic game against Daniel Naroditsky, but he lost on time after his nerves let him down at the critical moment. Overcome by emotion, Ivanchuk broke down and sobbed at the board. The Ukrainian grandmaster is a true chess obsessive, loved by fans for his disarming eccentricity as well as his brilliant play. At 56, he had recently dropped out of the world’s top 100 players, but his passion for chess and creative spark appear undiminished.

Magnus Carlsen’s run of nine straight wins at the Grenke Freestyle Open was, even by his own standards, extraordinary. The world no. 1 is a zealous advocate for freestyle chess, in which the pieces on the first rank are placed in one of 960 possible configurations at the start of the game. The format has been tested in a series of elite events, but the Grenke Open – held in Karlsruhe over the Easter weekend – was one of very few freestyle events open to players of all levels. Based on the standard of Carlsen’s opposition (which included seven grandmasters), he would have expected to score 7/9 in normal chess (perhaps five wins and four draws). But the uncharted format makes it hard to compare his 9/9 score with historical precedents.

Women’s world champion Ju Wenjun has scored a convincing 6.5-2.5 victory over her challenger Tan Zhongyi in the Women’s World Championship match, held in China earlier this month. Tan took an early lead by grinding out a minuscule advantage in the second game, but Ju levelled the scores with an equally patient win in the next. She then took the lead in the fifth game, and never looked back. That was the first of four consecutive wins for Ju, where she repeatedly outclassed the challenger in her handling of technical positions. Her margin of victory was surprising, since the two should have been very closely matched, according to their international ratings.

Good, but why now? Did they only just notice? Those were my thoughts when Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016. I’m similarly pleased and bemused by the new BBC series Chess Masters: The Endgame. I recall evenings after school more than 30 years ago, watching the Kasparov-Short world championship match in London on TV. So hurrah for a new prime-time scheduling slot! But millions of people play chess. Did we really have to wait this long? The real issue must be that finding a format to make chess look good on TV is hard. Partly that’s a self-fulfilling prophecy; with so few attempts, it’s impossible to learn what works. Do you want to inform, educate, or entertain?

I like tournaments which award prizes for the best game, offering a welcome reminder that there is more to chess than points on the scoreboard. Naturally, who wins those is a subjective matter, and even what you call the award is up for debate. Should it be a ‘best game’ prize, in the sense of high-quality play with few mistakes? A brilliancy prize for a quick attack? Perhaps a beauty prize, for the game’s visual impact? At the end of the Fide Women’s Grand Prix held in Monaco in February, a beauty prize was awarded for the game below.

Almost 400 players, including more than 100 grandmasters, travelled to the European Individual Championships last month in Eforie Nord, a small Romanian town on the coast of the Black Sea. Dozens of players have a realistic shot at winning this fiercely competitive event, which in recent years was won by players seeded 33rd, 11th, 20th and 33rd. So it was remarkable that the German grandmaster Matthias Blübaum managed to win it for the second time in his career (after 2022, in Slovenia). He shared first place with two other players on 8.5/11, and won the title on tiebreak. Third placed Maxim Rodshtein from Israel won a thrilling game against the veteran elite grandmaster Vasyl Ivanchuk from Ukraine.

The best of Aesop’s fables is the one in which the Wind and the Sun compete to remove the coat from a passing man. The Wind goes first, assaulting the man with full force, but the harder it blows, the tighter the man grips his coat. When the Sun takes a turn, it radiates such glorious heat that the man takes off the coat of his own accord. Similar wisdom might inform an interview with a sporting figure. Forget the Paxmanesque inquisition: prepare some open-ended questions, establish a rapport and listen carefully to the responses. You would probably not strap your subject to a polygraph machine, point a camera at them and pepper them with questions like ‘Have you ever played chess while you were drunk?

The vast majority of winning blows in chess are delivered by a piece moving forwards. Powerful retreating moves are rare, but the very fact of going against the grain makes an aesthetic impact. Played for purely strategic reasons, such moves are all the more admirable, so I was duly impressed by a move played in the Varsity Match earlier this month. Ashvin Sivakumar, representing Oxford, holds the advantage, with pressure in the centre and the kingside, but it’s not obvious how to move forward. There’s the rub! By retreating his bishop from e3 to c1, he reroutes it to b2 to bear down on the kingside from afar – a fact which proves decisive a few moves later. Ashvin Sivakumar (Oxford) – Cameron Goh (Cambridge) Varsity Chess Match, March 2025 27 Bc1!