Archive for the ‘Life beyond the chess board’ Category

Yesterday I had a plan. That plan was to take the skytrain and enter the city. Stop off at my favourite Indian restaurant for a vegetable curry. Get back on the skytrain and go to my hospital for my medication (I have hypermania), then go to the chess club. But that way go it did not. Within minutes of getting on the skytrain I fell critically ill. My whole world collapsed around me because the week before (subject of The visit that never was) I suffered so immensely from my life being threatened that I have been in a state of near collapse ever since. All I could do was hang on for dear life on the skytrain, try my hardest to walk to the hospital, collect my medication, and go back home. It was not very pleasant to arrive at the station I was supposed to get off to go to the chess club and then watch it go by but I had no choice, I was so sick mentally. By the time I got home, it wasn’t even 7pm but I had to fall into bed immediately and lie still all night long. Being the true hypermaniac that I am, of course sleep was not possible, and yes of course it’s not possible tonight also and no it won’t be possible tomorrow night either but these are trivialities. Like I said in the previous post, when your life is close to being taken away from you, you aren’t going to like it and you aren’t going to know what to do. What I didn’t say was it’s not something you can just walk away from and expect to be as right as rain the next day either. And what I couldn’t say was how sure I was of what was happening around me. Was I so startled that I couldn’t see things straight? The answers are coming, the answers are coming, a conclusion will be created… .

Yesterday, I didn’t have the power to play chess. I felt so wounded. I felt confused. I just wanted to go home, close my eyes and make everything go away. I could not speak to anyone, not even my own daughter. All I could do was lie still for many hours, not even hoping that my wounds would heal. I cannot put into words how hurt I have been and if that isn’t bad enough I must wait weeks before I can learn if I have been left with a terminal illness too, one which will eventually destroy my immune system and take my life from me.

Mark. J. McCready, 02.13 am, Sunday April 30th 2023

A quiet and lonely place where I have cried most days this week, Laksi, Bangkok.

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Next Friday I will go to play in a blitz tournament at Bangkok Chess Club. Next Saturday I will play in a Rapid Tournament. Next Sunday I will play in another rapid tournament in the city. Triple whammy in play.

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Friday the 13th January 2023 it was but there was nothing ominous or sinister in the air at Bangkok Chess Club tonight. No appearances from Hollywood’s ‘Freddie’ but three schools rolled into town to promote upcoming tournaments, so we were super busy. I did the best I could to try and capture the atmosphere as well as thrown in some extra content for my own purposes. Enjoy.

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Check out this #chess game: MarkJMcCready vs mostafa1981 – https://www.chess.com/live/game/65083870917

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Last weekend, my return to Bangkok Chess Club was a truly joyous occasion on all levels, it was everything I could have hoped for and much more. My return to OTB was triumphant and set the scene for a highly charged, bar-hoping night out which continued on past 3am.

One week later rain came, and poured in some parts of the city but flood it did not. The storms that fell across the city made it more difficult to get around it. I got soaked getting in and sat alone in the chess club upon arrival, drying off. When it rains, many don’t come, and with the time 7.30pm already, I had concerns there would be a no show. One of the more deplorable facets of Bangkok Chess Club is establishing a start time can’t be done with surety since the difficulties faced traversing its urban jungle vary greatly -it starts when it starts, whenever that may be most often around 8pm, an hour either side perhaps.

Kai Tourila, International Arbiter, and the main organizer strutted on in and spoke up to say there was going to be a FIDE rated blitz tournament tonight and that we had a visiting GM, his name already on the list but he only announced that to me because I sat alone still. Eventually members straggled in in drips and drabs, and some played friendlies whilst they waited for proceedings to start…well no they didn’t, they just played friendlies because they turned up to play chess, and in case you haven’t noticed already, chess players are remarkably inept at doing anything other than just play chess when they arrive at the chess club of their choosing. To say they’ve got a one-track mind and that its rather detrimental to their character on the whole is something of an understatement as well as a tragedy that will forever lie unresolved. Contrarily, I just sat around, drank cider, surfed on line, and for want of a better term, indulged in some people-watching. And why did I do that? Well read on and find out. Within an hour there was about 15 members milling around, acting like the archetypal chess player -totally lacking in social skills and ardently anti-social. Nothing was getting done, and nothing much was going on, so I pulled out of the tournament and refused to play. And why was that might you ask? The reason was multiform. First and foremost I’m not a fan of blitz and did notice last week I am too out of practice to stop myself from slipping into time trouble. Much more importantly, I have been overly critical of chess literature as a genre for well over a decide now. The principle reason that chess books continue to be published is because the chess playing public prioritize improvement over contentment, so they buy into the many publications put out these days. I don’t buy into that bollocks, and for many reasons. So there was a FIDE rated blitz tournament that very night. Yes of course I have an official blitz rating but I don’t know what it is, couldn’t give a fuck care less -just not interested. To define yourself in terms of your rating is the most widespread mistake FIDE rated chess players make, leaving themselves with a very narrow definition of what they are to put it mildly, due to a propensity of placing over importance on that year’s rating. There are many myths surrounding chess, one of which is that chess players are intelligent, since chess is typically defined as an intellectual pursuit. But if the degree of significance almost all attach to their rating was exposed -that myth would not just be crushed, it would be stomped on into the dust.

Officiating things doesn’t mean anything to me, so there was that to take into consideration. But most importantly of all is location. You know what they say in the property market, ‘location, location, location’. Well, they don’t say that in the chess world, if I were to guess, I’d say they are more likely to say ‘Do you know where I can buy a blow up doll’, well anyway, that’s up to those randy fuckers who play chess. But anyway: location.

You might want to ask how the location of a chess can be important. That question is not easily answered because its largely dependent on which country you are from. In England, for example, the location of a chess club never matters because its members will always go there no matter where it is. And why do they do that? Because there is absolutely fuck all else to do…except go down the pub and get hammered…oh and go to gay clubs to beat the crap out of who you find hanging around in the stairwell as I once did on my birthday. Anyway, to return to the point in question: location. Bangkok is a large international city, the downtown area is vibrant and has something for everyone -and an abundance of it too. It’s crammed full of life, bustling and bristling, all sorts goes on at all hours. So why do I want to get absolutely soaked on a motorbike, then spend over an hour on a skytrain excited about my journey into the city, exit at a prime location in the hub of downtown so that I can sit in a club where all the players present portrayed themselves as archetypical anti-social chess players, making no effort whatsoever to socialize, make small talk even, or simply smile at you dare I say. You could be forgiven for thinking they were method acting for an up coming zombie flick and doing a fucking good job of it too. Explain to me why I should be excited to enter the heart of the city and see something I saw in the 80s countless times, 90s countless times, 00s countless times,10s,countless times, and 20’s also, coupled with an opinion of chess players which is both far from complementary and rather cynical. It was all rather lifeless and insipid but moves were being made to make a start. And so we return to my main point: location. Why would I chose to sit silently through that when absolutely everything you could want or dream of is right at your doorstep? If you asked most chess players which they would prefer, yet another night at the chess club, or a visit to a bar where some babe is going to shove her tits in your mouth, which one do you think they are more likely to go for? If you can’t answer that, you are either fucked in the head, pissed up. on something or all three combined.

Editors Advice avoid the latter of those options and for fucks sake ensure you don’t enter tournaments whilst ‘on something’. Explanation Educated guess ‘When you’re fucked, you fuck it up over the board.’

Location: an evening far too slow to get off the ground and rife with anti-social tendencies in full force seemed less appealing than having naked women clamber all over me and force me into performing certain ‘acts’ on stage whilst necking tequila. Hardly surprising is it? One of the consequences of spending decades abroad is that sooner or later you are going to end up a man of the world, especially if you were intent of living a very colourful life in the street for many years, or to put it differently, chose a lifestyle that was the antithesis of the one you opted for in good old England. Men love to fuck women, and many can’t stop themselves, unbeknown to themselves. If every town in England had strip clubs in it, chess would die out within years, well most likely. Unless of course they combine the two, so that you could quickly make your move, rush downstairs, shove some women’s tit in your mouth, then rush back up to make your next move -that might work (Erm, Mark, in case you have forgotten, Newmarket went that way rebranding itself as not just a racetrack town where bridle paths were put far too close to where country matches were played, so said those who found the stench of horse shit distasteful, but also somewhere where several tacky nightclubs appeared, promising the exploits of women on the dole, with a few chavs thrown in for good measure). And on the note, and in hour of my beloved county, I would like to confirm that never at any point after county matches had finished there did any of our players stop off at these establishments…I can’t say they were more into masturbation whilst reading crumpled jazz mags either because I don’t know. We just focused on our chess. Women weren’t important and were never factored into conversations or evenings out ever. We thought they were all crap at chess and nothing more than a bunch of troublemakers -so fuck that.

Location: being spoilt for choice is a tricky thing to get a handle on but its undeniably true that Bangkok Chess Club has good nights and bad nights. The good nights make it worth while, the bad nights are best avoided. It’s always worth remembering, chess is just a board game. That’s all it is, there’s much more to life than some fucking board game chess itself.

Author’s note Retract that last sentence Mark. The reader could be fucked in the head and not understand it.

So, location, location, location. Just perhaps a downtown location isn’t where the chess club should be. Well ideologically speaking perhaps the past proves that so but its been long since decided upon, we stay downtown, and that’s that irrespective of how calamitous the choice of location is. I should know I had to find a new venue once -then got death threats for doing it! I chose what was called The Queen Victoria Pub on Sukhumvit Soi 23. The owner agreed. Members asked me to appear at the opening evening but I didn’t, I don’t remember why. I never could quite work out if it was because the floor they gave us access to was almost perfect or if it was because we were as close to Soi Cowboy as was humanely possible. Apologies for my crude sense of humour but I did spend my entire adult life reading viz, but the bottom line is given the choice between a game of chess, and having some babe shove her tits in your mouth, no one is going to choose chess. So just perhaps in moving to the doorstop of where the action is hot, those at the club were a stones throw from where their deepest, darkest, dirtiest fantasies could be fulfilled off the chess board.

Facebook comment from club member

‘Fucking bastard that Mark was. Put the chess club in view of Soi Cowboy. On my first visit, I bar-fined some bird with big knockers and came home with the clap. My wife beat me up, threatened to cut my cock off and grounded me for two months. Then she said I have to sleep with blow up dolls from now on in the spare room. Thanks for everything Mark, really good choice of location that was.’

Another Facebook comment from club member

‘That fucking McCready has gone and got me the clap the bastard, and its affected my play. I can’t concentrate anymore. When I whipped my chopper out to show my opponent in the last club match he said I could end up with knob rot if I wasn’t careful. I lost all heart in the game and lost quickly. What the fuck did he stick the chess club right next to Soi Cowboy for? What was he thinking? I brought two friends with me also. They had a foursome. One got herpes, the other got VD, and neither of them could come so had to fake their orgasms to get it over and done with. I’m not going back to the chess club, it’s got seedy and rife with disease. My doctor told me my bollocks will never be the same again and my cock will go all yellow.

Comments from Bar Management

Some bloke from Luton came in and asked if the chess club could run from upstairs. He told me they had plenty of members so I would do good business out of it but within weeks hardly anyone came. They kept all sneaking off to Soi Cowboy and came down with the clap, which affected their chess. Bloody dirty bastards, they can bugger off elsewhere.’

Comment from passer by on the street

‘Yes I did go in that chess club once but many of them had AIDS. The ones that didn’t whisked me off to that place round the corner, soi cowboy I think it was. Well the next morning my balls swelled up and went all purpley. So I didn’t go back to that chess club again.’

They all hated me back then. I had a pint thrown at me when I entered once. But it wasn’t my fault, if they leave home to go and play chess but come back with the clap, that’s their fault, it wasn’t mine. They said I put ideas in their head. They said they lost interest in chess. They said I ruined the club. They said if anyone else comes down with the clap they were going to pay a hitman to take me out. That’s how bad it got. I did try to tell them most would be envious and it was just jolly bad luck. But the decision to remove me from the location finding role in the club was unanimous, and since then I had to stay in retirement.

Remark from FIDE President

I’m very excited to announce I will visit the club shortly for a PR stunt. Should I bring condoms? Can I buy dildos on the street there also?

‘Time it waits for no man’

2016 brought an end to our stay at the Queen Victoria Pub. With so many members in and out of the nearest VD clinic, hardly anyone came, aso the manager decided to charge us 2000 Baht a night for use of the premises. And so we moved further up the street to ‘The Crossbar’, and so it became easier for members to stay in the club and finish their games instead of wandering off where the ladies of the night gather. I did manage to make my time at the club easier, or make myself less approachable with anyone bearing a grudge. December 2016: you could say I underwent a transmogrification in the two months prior to that although that’s rather blase. I suffered a major accident whilst cycling because I liked to hit 40kms on my bike on the major roads whilst drunk and tranquilized whilst blasting my way into the city. From October onwards it was not possible to be myself. With major head injuries the sense of self is quickly lost. This meant I reintegrated into society but wasn’t me at all, and was in fact far from it. Instead of being unbothered by someone’s impatience whilst setting a board up, I beat the living shit out of him in front of everyone instead, which they seemed rather taken aback by. So I got reassigned to being ‘crazy’, and to be avoided. I was suffering from a massive head injury because I accidentally left a blood clot in my brain for five days without doing anything about it. Unfortunately I had so many injuries (about 70), it just seemed like one of very many but it meant that they couldn’t get the fucking thing out and this led to a very great many complications, including radical changes to my personality. With that said, I thoroughly recommend you suffer with a massive head injury because it changes everything and if you are diagnosed with hypermania you will be over the moon for months if not years. Just be careful which bit of the skull you choose. I opted for the frontal parietal lobe, which is a fairly safe bet…oh and I should add, when you do regain consciousness, you aren’t going to know what your name is or where you are, and if your family fly in, you won’t be able to recognize them and will have to be introduced to them. It’s also going to take you about two weeks to learn how to eat properly, and about the same amount of time to learn how to walk. But all that aside, it’s well worth it, it really is. Chess wise, the first time you see a chess board, you won’t know what it is. So yes, I wasn’t myself at all, more like an intensified extrovert in an emotionally charged state dominated by hypermania. Under such conditions, your emotions have much greater force and are much more dominant than usual. This can make you impulsive and aggressive, it did with me for about 7 months.

So to conclude, should you wish to frequent Bangkok Chess Club, it would be better if you knew why you are going there beforehand, and in addition, had a broader conception over the importance of chess per se than your average club member. Because at least then you can weigh up your options, and in case you haven’t noticed, there are many things in life that are far more important than chess, and like I said, the nature of Bangkok factors in elements of unpredictability into the club itself, and its never going to be the case that you will know what’s going on an any particular evening. If chess is important enough for you to tolerate that then okay, its your life. But to choose to play chess without considering alternative options is, in my opinion not particularly life-affirming.

Author’s final note

Mark, how many fucking times have I told you, if you don’t have much to write or nothing to write then don’t write anything. Didn’t we agree on that as a way forwards earlier in this year/ This post says nothing, its not very funny, and in addition, if I may put it more eloquently ‘its a load of fucking bollocks you cunt’

McCready’s reply and closing remarks

I understand your frustrations but lets be honest. You only said that because when I leant you my mates blow up doll, you went and got the clap off it and blamed me for it, now am I right or am I right?

Webmaster’s interjection

I went to Manhattan Chess club and got syphilis there. They had a swingers convention going on in the next room and wanted the players with the biggest choppers to come and join in. Good night but nasty disease.

Fan of the site writes

I went to Moscow chess club and got crabs there. Some bint was a right fucking slapper not a good choice of partner. Everyone at the chess club thought it was funny and wanted to shake my hand.

A visiting guest writes

I went to Abu Dhabi chess club and got gonorrhoea off the club president’s wife. When I told him about it he smacked me in the mouth. So I came back and used a screwdriver on him -he didn’t like that I can assure you.

Office colleague adds

I went to Shanghai Chess Club once and got Hepititus. Most players got blowjobs off the waitresses whilst they were playing, making them easy to beat. It was quite lively and expensive too.

Facebook friend writes

I went to Leighton Buzzard Chess club once and got chlamydia. I shagged the cleaner in the bogs during my game and the bitch gave it to me. And I’m not joking, in all my life I’ve never seen any women with such a hairy fanny as her. It was like a fucking jungle. The next time I went back, there was a new cleaner and wasn’t interested when I whipped my chopper out in the corridor.

Concluding remarks

Most people don’t question what they do on a daily basis. But I reiterate, if you intend to visit Bangkok Chess Club, make sure you have a Plan B in play at all times because sometimes its best avoided. Bangkok is a rich, opulent city. There are far better ways to spend time there than enduring a quiet night at the chess club with hardly anyone there. It’s better to enjoy your life than succumb to a quiet night at the chess club -of which there are more than enough throughout the year -especially when it rains.

And now, I really have run out of things to say.

Mark. J. McCready, 11.35, November 22nd

My office, Chachoengsao, Thailand

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Perhaps, just perhaps, not the ideal preparation for a night of chess in BKK, and yes that is Magners cider.

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Greetings my beloved audience. I’ve just left a Q&A session with a top Grandmaster and can relay the answers to my three questions. Here they are:

Question 1 If you come down with the clap, could it affect your opening repertoire?

Question 2 If you wake up with crabs, could they affect your clock management?

Question 3 if you get herpes, could it affect your end game play?

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It helps if I listen to music when I write. My mood should be altered also, that makes an even bigger difference. The humour I make attempts at seems to come by itself as the post progresses. They don’t take very long at all. When I start laughing at what I’ve wrote, I know I am doing well, that’s when I go into overdrive. I think some of the stuff I right is absolutely hilarious but I understand not everyone will. No matter what anyone thinks, I enjoy doing it greatly.

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What exactly am I meant to say? I have nothing to say. I don’t want to communicate. I want to be left alone.

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