P*ssed at work and no instant dismissal, where do i sign up.
Roistering Russian grandmaster Vladislav Tkachiev, long famed as the Oliver Reed of the international pro chess circuit, reportedly passed out drunk during a tournament match in India and "had to be carried off". According to the Indian Express, grog-swilling brainbox Tkachiev - born in Russia but nowadays playing as a …
He visited Ireland back in 1994 and was due to meet the Irish Prime Minister at Shannon Airport.
However, he failed to exit from the plane and rumours abounded that the man had a heart attack/stroke - call it what you will..
Enlightens us more
Another Red in the bed conspiracy theory.
...playing chess when you're sober is one of the single most boring things one can participate in.
Playing chess while ratted out your tits, however, is like a roller-coaster ride without any thing to hold onto. They should make it compulsory that you have to be at least three sheets to the wind before you even decide who goes first.
Plus, I've found that I've always played my best chess when both me and my opponent is snottered wi' the drink.
..white goes first by the way...
chess ain't dull, I love chess; although I will grant you it is more entertaining with a lovely single malt and a large reefa.
The only board game you can play over and over again relentlessly, with each game being entirely different, and you never stop learning. Genius.
I used to play a bit of Chess casually, my favorite event in Ireland was the Kilkenny Congress held every November. On Sunday Nights, the Blitz section was preceded by an open bar, according to this years entry form its sponsored by Smithwicks Brewery. Good times, getting hammered and playing against masters.
Thought I was alright at it until I went to India and played against a 13 year old boy who wiped the floor with me over and over and over, day in, day out for three weeks. Didn't win once. He reckoned that, out of all his mates, he was about average skill. Very demoralising!
And the best players I know of can play equally well or better when rat arsed and/or stoned outta their gourds, the bastards!
I watched a "man vs machine" chess exhibition at the New York Athletic Club about 5 years ago, and while I cannot remember which Russian grandmaster was playing, I DO remember that I passed through the floor below the exhibition, where they were setting up for one HELL of a party post-match, with plenty of food, bar staff at ready, and a horde of Russian women with impossibly high cheekbones, blonder than blonde hair, and 5" heels parading around with champaign glasses half-full, awaiting the end of the match. This was, of course, out of the public eye, and I only found it because I was their with a NYAC member who could go anywhere in the club. I remember thinking that chess was such an intellectual game, so pure, so innocent - and then...and then I wished I was a grandmaster!!!
I know a few people from that part of the world (Ukraine, Poland, Belarus, and Russia itself) and one thing they all have in common is their superhuman capacity for holding alcohol. My Ukrainian acquaintance makes her own vodka, with which you could launch the space shuttle. The Polish guy chugs HALF A LITRE of Polish firewater FOR BREAKFAST every day, and seems none the worse for it!
So if this guy passed out at the chess table, I can only imagine that his 'refreshment' must have consisted of at least a petrol tank's worth of neat Smirnoff, and I hope the the people who carried him off didn't smoke anywhere near him...
Robert Hill wrote:
"I watched a "man vs machine" chess exhibition at the New York Athletic Club about 5 years ago [...] one HELL of a party post-match [...] a horde of Russian women with impossibly high cheekbones, blonder than blonde hair, and 5" heels parading around with champaign glasses half-full, awaiting the end of the match."
So what happened when the robots won?
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