The first Olympiad

Everyone remembers their first Olympiad. As I boarded the flight to Chennai last month, it struck me that two full decades have passed since my Olympiad debut in Bled, 2002. Respectable in the seniority stakes, though one of the charms of this biennial team event is that you can count on meeting someone excited to reminisce about Dubai 1986, or perhaps Lugano 1968, and who hasn’t missed one since.

This year, teams from around 200 nations – perhaps 2,000 players in all – made the trip to India. The event was moved from Moscow with just a few months’ notice, but any fears about the hasty organisation were quickly allayed. The country’s abundant respect for chess was evident at every level, from the volunteers who met us warmly at the airport, to the presence of Narendra Modi at the opening ceremony.

If international chess can be said to have an oral tradition, then the Olympiad is its most important conduit. The two-week-long event is a generational and cultural melting pot, as retired grandmasters pass on their war stories and hard-won wisdom as captains and coaches. Meanwhile, each edition seems to thrust a number of brilliant young players into the spotlight. (Last week I wrote about the outstanding performance of India’s second team, comprised mostly of teenagers).

This year, England’s strongest individual performance came from David Howell, who was awarded a gold medal for his performance on board 3. Unfortunately, our final-round defeat to a dangerous team from Moldova knocked us back in the standings. (A variation from my own rather painful game appears in this weeks edition.)

Ireland’s second board, Conor Murphy, scored a notable success in Chennai. The Cambridge mathematics graduate lost his final game and narrowly missed out on an individual medal, but his result easily earned him his second grandmaster norm – a major step towards being awarded the title. He showed some fine technique against a strong Iranian grandmaster.

White clearly stands well, but the threat of Qxf2 is hard to meet, since 39 Kg1 Qf4 sets up a nuisance check on c1. Murphy heads for a bishop endgame, correctly judging that Black’s weak pawns on b6 and h4 will become the decisive factor.

Conor Murphy–Amin Tabatabaei

Fide Olympiad, Chennai, July 2022

(See diagram)

39 Qf3! Qxf3 40 gxf3 Be7 41 Bd4 Bd8 42 f4 Kf7 43 f5 This is not the only way to win, but the method which follows is particularly elegant. exf5 44 f4 Ke6 45 Kg2 Kd5 46 Bf2 This is the point. The Bd8 is tied to b6 and h4, and the king cannot advance: 46…Ke4 47 Bxb6 Bxb6 48 e6 Bc5 49 b6 and a pawn will promote. So Black marks time. Ke6 47 Kf3 Kd5 48 Ke2 Ke6 49 Kd3 Kd5 Now, White would like to pass the move to Black, hence the following bishop dance Bf2-e3-d4-f2. It’s counterpart has only c7 and d8, so cannot keep its position in parity. 50 Be3 Bc7 51 Bd4 Bd8 52 Bf2 Ke6 In case of 52…g6, White would repeat the same bishop manoeuvre. 53 Kc4 g5 54 fxg5 Kxe5 55 Bxh4 Winning a key pawn, and threatening g5-g6. The win follows easily after regrouping the king. Ke6 56 Kd3 Bc7 57 Ke3 Kf7 58 Kf3 Kg6 59 Bg3 Bd8 60 h4 Be7 61 Bf2 Bd8 62 Be3 Kh5 63 Kf4 Kg6 64 Bd4 Bc7+ 65 Be5 Bd8 66 Bd6 Black resigns