The rapidplay in question was at CCF - an unusually demanding 7-round affair, FIDE-rated as well. They are single-section Opens, with a grading spread of over 200 at times. I've played two before (August 2010 and July 2011), when they were graded and only 6 rounds, and had a so-so showing in both; hopefully I could improve this time.
I was primarily concerned, of course, for the recent changes in my opening repertoire. My one rule for the event was that I couldn't play the same opening twice; I had intended to rule out 1. e4 altogether, but it did crop up once when I had run out of alternatives and had a serious chance of winning the whole tournament. But that was all in the future at the start.
Indeed, after the first round I would never have guessed I would be up near the top of the crosstable before round 6. My regular employment of closed Queenside openings got off to an inauspicious start when I lost to a 69-graded junior! He's not showing signs of improvement either. Perhaps frustrated by his refusal to fall apart, the stable advantage I had nurtured for most of the game disappeared quickly. Afterwards I thought I had just been outplayed throughout, but now it seems it was just the first of many tactical oversights on the day:
Not the start I had been aiming for, needless to say. Forced to fall back on the dark art of the Swiss Gambit, I now had no choice but to try and scythe through the next few opponents. However, I seem to be in my element in such situations (consider my 2012 Megafinal heroics) and obliged by rocketing up the crosstable over the next few rounds. That's not to say it was plain sailing, however! I thought my round 2 victory over David Wallis (120) was smooth enough, but computer analysis reveals that he missed a few chances:
If I had been happy with the second game, I had no illusions about the third, against 118-graded Barry Miles. Once again, a pleasant position out of the opening went sour when I disregarded the tactics, and perhaps it was only through sheer force of will that I could have found a way to draw, let alone win as I did:
Round 4 highlighted that my performances with white and black were very different. In an unusual variation of the Sicilian against Phil Foley (116), I finally produced a performance that left no room for doubt that the full point was deserved:
So, not entirely as planned, I had finally reached a respectable score in the shape of 3/4. But this also meant that the opposition became a lot tougher. I played a 185, Kevin White, who has been in the 190s for a while. However it was actually your author who had the white pieces (sorry) and the obligatory 1. c4 of the day brought me to the brink of a fine victory. As it was, I had to be content with the better side of a draw, because I was uncharacteristically afraid of weaknesses. After the opening, my only two pawn moves were both recaptures:
Nevertheless, that game showed that even against strong opposition, I can more than hold my own in the right (tactic-free!) position. In the penultimate round, I played another 185, Kevin Bailey. Trying to capitalise on an outside chance of winning the whole event, I went far outside my comfort zone and got a position that was too big an ask of my swindling powers:
That collapse meant that any hope of tournament victory was gone. Still, I hadn't really been thinking of it beforehand, and I was still in with a shot at the U-2000 grading prize. I had to beat a 145 with black, and so what to do? Play my winning weapon of choice, naturally:
I daresay that your computer was no more a fan of that cluster of flash players than mine was, but there you have it - the end of the event. I finished with 4.5/7, a grading performance of 154, and perhaps most importantly, I won £25, the first time I've won money at a chess tournament since Chipping Sodbury in October.
My decision to play different openings throughout the event was challenging; it was not long ago that I had a Sicilian in all 5 rounds of the BUCA Championship. But, pretentiously or not, I had in mind Botvinnik's observation that it is "very unsatisfactory for a master to play only one opening; his opponents will be well prepared for play against him, and above all his chess horizon will be too narrow, in many positions he will simply play by rote." The difference in my showing with white (1.5/4, 138) and black (3/3, 177) was hard to ignore. The Czech Benoni I had in round 1 definitely did not suit me, and whilst the Catalan in round 3 went much better, I still nearly threw it away. Unsurprisingly, the English was my best showing; I have more practice with it and was able to shut down the tactics far more successfully than elsewhere.
That leads me on to the predictable observation that tactics are still a huge problem for me. I can't say here that it's because I play tougher opposition any more - the difficulties struck against Burch, Wallis and Miles no less than against Bailey. It may well have been the awareness of this, or the bad positions that arose as a result, that left me with time trouble in several games, particularly in the early rounds. Then again, perhaps it was lack of practice - I've only played 15 graded rapidplay games since January, which for me is not many at all.
The only compensation for a marked decline in both of these areas was that, out of nowhere, I seem to have become much better at endgames. I can't really explain why - I've done no recent work on that area of the game, but I really should not have won against Miles or Graham. The only thing that I can suggest is that in many recent blitz games I have deliberately aimed to get into endings as quickly as possible - another recommendation by everyone's favourite electrical engineer. It certainly seems to have worked so far.
My next game after this was a second as a filler in the Open section of the CCF Summer Cup.
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