Luke McShane

For a chess player, delivering a check to the king always feels like asking a question, as if to say, ‘What are you going to do about that?’ And I was instructed as a child: ‘Don’t answer a question with a question!’ So naturally, I get an impish thrill from those rare occasions where a check is met by a move which simultaneously delivers a check to the opponent. Such a counter-check could even be mate. That circumstance is vanishingly rare in practical play, but composers of chess problems have often toyed with the idea. One shining example is the position in the first diagram, a mate in three composed by Sam Loyd in 1903.

Right before the end of my game against Alexei Shirov at the World Rapid Team Championships earlier in June, I had the better side of a drawn position and a full 20 seconds to make a move. Not too bad: Shirov is a former member of the world elite, whose brilliant games I had revered since childhood, and a draw would secure us victory in the match. At that moment, my mind left the chessboard. It pondered the winning position I had earlier in the game. And it drifted back, yet again, to the middlegame, which reached the position in the diagram below, right after I, playing Black, had captured a knight on f5. In response to 23 Nxf5 I intended Qxb2!, when White must choose between 24 Rxg7+ and 24 Nxh6+, but in either case Black emerges from the skirmish with an extra knight.

It was a treat to see so many of the world’s top players in London for the World Rapid and Blitz Team Championships last week. Now in its third edition, the event has an unusual format, in which teams of six must include one female player and one rated below 2000 (roughly, a strong club player). That drew a sociable mix of teams, including traditional clubs, both from the UK and abroad, some national teams, and some teams with corporate sponsorship. My team, Malcolm’s Mates (Malcolm Pein is the federation’s international director), had a considerable overlap with the English national team, with additional strong players from abroad.

Magnus Carlsen slammed the table with such force that the pieces jumped from the board. Immediately, he resigned his game against teenage world champion Gukesh Dommaraju, who thereby achieved his first victory in a classical (slow) game against the world no 1. His comment on Carlsen’s pique was typically gracious: ‘I’ve also banged a lot of tables in my career.’ It was surely the manner of the loss which exasperated Carlsen. The Norwegian had reached a winning position with plenty of time on the clock, but missed opportunities to convert. Gukesh clung on until they reached the position below, when Carlsen, with less than a minute left, made a critical miscalculation: Gukesh Dommaraju – Magnus Carlsen Norway Chess 2025 52... Ne2+?? 52...Re8!

The final weekend of the Four Nations Chess League (4NCL) took place on the early May bank holiday, and promised a close race between the defending champions Wood Green and the strong Manx Liberty team, who began the weekend a couple of match points in front. The league looked likely to be decided in a final round pairing between the two.     It was an underdog team, The Sharks, which played the role of kingmaker. They began by holding the Manx team to a draw, enabling Wood Green to narrow the gap in the title race. But in the next (penultimate) round, The Sharks faced Wood Green, who fielded England heavyweight Michael Adams on top board (whose win is shown below). Despite that, the Sharks scored a 4.5-3.5 upset.

Anyone who plays chess will know the feeling of reaching a winning position, only to screw it up and to lose the game instead. So far so normal, and the cliché about ‘snatching defeat from the jaws of victory’ can apply to any sport. But chess offers a far more piquant anguish, unavailable in most other endeavours. Even among chess players, only a tiny minority will experience it. Directly resigning in a winning position – that is the stuff of nightmares. It sounds ridiculous – why would you ever do that? All it takes is to overlook one crucial resource, and it happened last week to one of the best in the world.     The diagram position below is taken from an online game played in the Champions Chess Tour.

A ‘Fair Play violation’ got the YouTube streamer DrLupo booted out of the most recent series of PogChamps, Chess.com’s online invitational tournament for streamers and athletes, which has a $100,000 prize fund. DrLupo’s transgression was not particularly subtle. In elementary fashion, he blundered his queen for two minor pieces at move 11, only to comprehensively outplay his opponent, WolfeyVGC, who outrated him by more than 700 points on the platform. At first, DrLupo didn’t make things any better by trying to pass it off as an accident. Internet streamers often have a chat window open while they are playing, and inevitably fans will sometimes suggest moves while the games are being played. But DrLupo had not just made one or two unusually good moves.

The other day, a top computer chess engine demolished the world no. 2 Hikaru Nakamura in a series of online blitz games by a 14-2 margin. Nothing unusual in that; computers have played at superhuman levels for decades now, to the point where scoring two points out of 16 counts as an achievement. But those games were also played with knight odds for Nakamura! His opponent, an online chess-playing bot named ‘LeelaKnightOdds’, has been specially tuned to play with a knight missing from the start position. It was adapted from ‘Leela Chess Zero’ (aka LCZero), an open source project based on the ideas behind the AlphaZero engine described in papers by Google DeepMind in 2017.

Vasyl Ivanchuk was at the centre of a heart-rending scene during the tenth round of the World Blitz Championship in New York in December. The former world no. 2 could certainly have won his dramatic game against Daniel Naroditsky, but he lost on time after his nerves let him down at the critical moment. Overcome by emotion, Ivanchuk broke down and sobbed at the board. The Ukrainian grandmaster is a true chess obsessive, loved by fans for his disarming eccentricity as well as his brilliant play. At 56, he had recently dropped out of the world’s top 100 players, but his passion for chess and creative spark appear undiminished.

Magnus Carlsen’s run of nine straight wins at the Grenke Freestyle Open was, even by his own standards, extraordinary. The world no. 1 is a zealous advocate for freestyle chess, in which the pieces on the first rank are placed in one of 960 possible configurations at the start of the game. The format has been tested in a series of elite events, but the Grenke Open – held in Karlsruhe over the Easter weekend – was one of very few freestyle events open to players of all levels. Based on the standard of Carlsen’s opposition (which included seven grandmasters), he would have expected to score 7/9 in normal chess (perhaps five wins and four draws). But the uncharted format makes it hard to compare his 9/9 score with historical precedents.