Bangkok Chess Club meets every Friday evening above The Royal Oak Pub (previously The Bull), and so it was only fitting that I returned to the club which I have been frequenting since 2003. For map, see here: https://www.google.com/maps/place/The+Royal+Oak/@13.7324472,100.5662752,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x30e29f02051edc49:0x14f2a19a89270b09!8m2!3d13.7324447!4d100.5684728 And given that it’s two years since I was there last, I had a very pleasant return indeed which had a sense of being somewhat overdue. It’s nice to see old friends, and see them happy to meet again, and the sense of familiarity which comes with that is always a welcome reminder of why friends remain what they are irrespective of how little you have in common beyond a shared love of chess.
There was about fifteen members present, arriving at various times, including the sister of Alexandra Kosteniuk. They look so alike I thought it was her at first as its not uncommon to have visiting Grand masters or titled players of a lower category turn up once in a while under the guise of some tourist passing by. The usual blitz tournament started around 8, which is earlier than usual, however, this proved not to be advantageous. I started drinking cider almost immediately upon arrival, partly due to being a piss head and partly because cider is my tipple anyway…oh and partly down to being an impulsive little shit so-and-so at times who is remarkably adept at not thinking things through clearly and just doing what he wants instead…oh and that I was in a pub anyway with the usual pomp and circumstance ensuing, and you could also argue that enjoying the evening on the whole mattered much more than my results given that contentment and not improvement is what I tend to gravitate towards chesswise: it matters not whether I get any better but enjoying my chess is always of greater value. So most unfortunately I got not just tipsy and not just rather merry but pissed up instead, perhaps the sense of occasion took centre stage and it seemed like the most natural thing to do. Why wouldn’t it? After all, you enter downtown and are at a bustling English pub in one of the better suburbs. Hard not to join in and have a drink…when in Rome and all that shit…
So the evening was characterized by drinking, chatting to old friends, being not quite quick enough for such rapid time controls, and drinking, and yet more drinking. Good evening all round in which the results didn’t really matter too much. I took some pictures and made some videos of the club itself, which you can find below. It was with great affection that I began to look forwards to OTB chess last month, and my first visit to the club showed exactly why that was so. Rightly so. And must remain so.
Listen up: under no circumstances whatsoever should I still be alive. The blood clot which reeked havoc in my brain was removed in a hospital along the road you see here.
In this video I don’t express very well just how much I used to boss that road on my Trek, and that I am still proud of it.
McCreadyandChess 