Open to the Open, Part Two

Double Click above image to enlarge.   Phrase at right says 'musicals'

[a.  Up and coming post: '400 Points in 4,000 Days:  Not so rapid chess improvement for the adult class player: A five-year program (Part I).

b.  Update:  Friday, 24 August, I still plan to write this, but one among three or four others in next, say, three weeks.]


When back east for a year or so, I had the very good fortune to not only find a chess club that was very strong while also being extremely friendly, as well as doubly blessed with a great location with fabulous amenities at almost zero cost, BUT--and this is key--while also afforded rated tournaments spread out over many weeks, played on the same weeknight.

From this I discovered that even a SINGLE rated game took me sometimes three days to get over.  I found that with the level of tension and effort that I put into a chess game, this exhausted me more than most people.

And from this club, I also had the opportunity to compete in the World Team Amateur in nearby Parsippany New Jersey (about an hour outside one of the greatest cities in the world, New York).  This gigantic tournament has over one thousand contestants in the east coast part alone, and is the largest team tournament in the world.

Its not that I just drove down the street and somehow wound up there.  Not that.  People travel from all over the east coast just to compete there--from Boston, Philadelphia, all over, and my mother's house, where I was living for a year or so ago, was a thirty-five minute drive.  Patience, I am getting to my point:

In the 2011 41st USATE (US Team Amateur) I played six rated games spread out over three days.  I was tired for an entire week afterwards.  It was a though I had competed in The Ironman Triathlon.

It was then that I understood the wisdom, of for example, my friend Damon T. Garrett [1], who while living about an hour away, still stayed at the feature hotel, The Hilton.  Pricy?  Yes.  Is it worth it?  Yes.  It was then that I realized the need to consolidate my energy, if I was to do this.  The next year, in 2012, I also stayed at the Hilton.

I vowed to myself, that I would never again compete in a chess tournament, spread out over several days, unless I was accommodated on-site, with lodgings.  Its just too harsh to play two rated games per day, driving to the tournament, being held over with nowhere to go between rounds if not nowhere to take a short nap, then drive home, sleep, drive to the tournament, compete, go home, etc.  Terrible.

So when I heard that the 2012 US Open Blitz Tournament was being held on a Saturday at nearby Vancouver Washington [2] [3] [4], near the end of its long nine round competition, I jumped on it.  Thus I could get in a lot of chess, without this need to lodge (read great cost, as well as time expenditure).  I could get lots of chess in, get in, and get out.  One day.  One trip there, one trip home.

I can get myself up physically and mentally up for a single, even if very long, day of competition, without fear of getting killed.

Chess is, for me, very taxing.  It exhausts me.  And it is a great cost, in terms of life energy.  I cannot spend it that often.  I say this all as a man who runs for two hours every Saturday, then go back the next day, and do it again, about four hours running across a 25 hour period.  Its not like I am some weakling!

So there it is:  give me a tournament where I have a bed and shower three minutes away, if not two, with no travel, or god please, let it be for no more than one long day.  That I can do.

Chess is mental torture.  No point making it worse with additional physical torture!  Which it also is.

[1] I long since dispensed with my middle initial, the vestigial trace of childhood, which I gave up after my freshman year, at The Cooper Union. I was once David A. Korn, and how I loved it. Err!

But somehow, I had the good sense, when reestablishing my USCF membership in early 2011, to call myself David Allan Korn, after checking and seeing that there was another David Korn's.

It can get confusing out there. So for all of you who might consider taking the plunge--check first, and use a middle initial or name if you have one! Kudo's to Damon for the T. in Garrett. Smart man in more ways than one.

[2] For those unaware, Vancouver WA is just across the mighty Columbia River, from Portland Oregon. It is barely ten miles from downtown Portland, an area far bigger than most know, some 2.2M people: Wiki: 'The Portland–Vancouver–Hillsboro Metropolitan Statistical Area (MSA), the 23rd largest in the United States,[3][4] has a population of 2,226,009 (2010 Census). Of them, 1,789,580 live in Oregon (46.7% of the state's population) while the remaining 436,429 live in Washington (6.7% of state's population).' 

{Kind readers, second link is worth a glance, MSA defined.  This is important.  This is what the planet is really comprised of now, as far as key factors goes.  So goes the MSA's, so goes earth!  Image linked here.  Fantastically cogent list, here.

[3] I had moved to Portland in late May 2012. I left Seattle, twenty years to THE week, at the end of October 2010, seeking refuge back at my childhood home, in West Caldwell, NJ. The last place outside New York where there is a farm. True. Running in the woods, I saw many dear. 55 minutes from NY. Just imagine.

[4]. I did get to see my dear old friend GM Yasser Seirawan (USCF Elo 2674), in the lobby of the Hilton for about ten minutes. Got to hug his wife Yvette, who I last saw over teriyaki with Yaz in, what was in, about 2007? I asked Yasser what she thought of me, shamelessly asking. She said that 'you have interesting friends'. Very nice lady. Very modest, like Yasser, unlike me. He and I could not arrange social time, and how did I try!

In the past I had always succeeded. He did, however, much to my surprise, honor his promise to watch me play in the Blitz Tournament. What round(s), I do not know. I cringe. He did write me the day after the tournament, where he placed 2nd, out of about 505 persons, so I was not totally out of the loop. Talk about tired. As Ron Daws once said, in his article in Playbook, what was it, some 1973 or so (I am that old), about how he felt after a marathon, 'I feel like a bag of smashed assholes'.

Not exactly sure about that, but if I played nine rounds against 2000, 2100's, and garden variety 2400's, I would be tired. Watched his round eight, till one in the morning. What did he do, after? Go to the mensroom. Are you kidding. No. Went straight to the skittles room, with his opponent, to do a post mortem. Gave him a hug, intrusive, from behind, almost grabbing him, 'I have to go. I probably won't see you for a few years'.

The last time, was 2.5 years ago, with my girlfriend C. at Starbux. Ouch. Let me forget this woman. He told us about his match at the Olympiad with Tal, recounted in his book Duals, My Games With The World Chess Champions. Don't get me started. Its too late now. 12:50 am. Ran for three hours yesterday, 1:35 today, about 4:35 in a 26 hour period. Not even tired this second.

One can of cheap malt liqueur under my belt now. Two Mexican Taco stand taco's, with tons of cilantro and raw onion, and as much not sauce as I could bear after. Tons of water. One chocolate almond cluster after grocery shopping, in the last hour. Not low fat. Terrible. I am a bad person. I am not pure.