The Beautiful Game speaks for itself. I try to let my moves do the talking. But sometimes the language of chess is overshadowed by events. So this is my story.

I returned to County Sligo in the Republic of Ireland for the annual Spring Tournament. This year it was held in the Diamond Coast Hotel in the seaside town of Enniscrone. This is, in most respects, a very good tournament. Generous sponsorship lies behind the quality wooden boards and sets, the latest DGT 3000 clocks, and live streaming of all games in the top section (the Masters) through DGT technology. I was playing in the Masters in a small but strong field of 22 with 8 titled players including Ireland’s only GM, Alexander Baburin. The winner on 4.5/5 was Jonathan Pein, son of the well-known player and organiser Malcolm Pein. 

In accordance with the FIDE anti-cheating regulations, players were required to remain in the playing area for the duration of their games. This large hall (the hotel ballroom) had its own dedicated toilets. The playing area was also defined to included a separate but adjacent room where players could smoke during the round. The playing hall itself was non-smoking. In Ireland, smoking is mostly banned in public places, but it is allowed in designated hotel areas.

Why am I telling you this? It was not relevant in rounds 1 to 4. In round 5, however, I was paired against Oleg Gubanov (FIDE 2266), a Ukrainian IM and professional smoker. By this I mean that he smokes for a living and finances his expensive habit through his winnings at the chess board. In the early stages of our game, he went into the smoking room two or three times to indulge his habit. On returning to the board, his whole being reeked of smoke and his smoke-filled breath permeated the immediate area. Passive smoking is a novel and unwelcome experience for me. Not only the adverse health effects and unpleasant smell. I found inhaling it made it hard to concentrate on the game and I started to develop a headache.

I went off to speak to the arbiter about this. He was sympathetic but could do nothing since the tournament regulations permitted smoking in the designated area (and by implication its after-effects for other players, including many juniors). I could not bear to sit through this so I removed myself and my possessions to a separate space about 10 yards away, observing the board from afar and returning only when it was my move. The other players must have thought it strange to see Gubanov sitting at the board and facing an empty chair.

It’s not ideal to play chess like this. I gave a good account of myself but could not manage the serious and prolonged thought that such an event requires.

Things went from bad to worse when Gubanov started making his moves immediately in response to mine without first writing down the move I had made. I thought (mistakenly) that this was illegal, and spoke to the arbiter again, but apparently the Laws of Chess do permit players to make their own moves before recording their opponents’ moves. This is contrary to the universal practice, and is unsporting since you save a little time on the clock if you don’t bother to write down your opponents’ moves in your own time. 

Over time, Gubanov made repeated visits to the smoking room. My headache got worse and my position deteriorated until I was actually losing. At this stage I experienced one of those “What am I doing here?” moments. I realised that the result of the game no longer mattered. What is the point of playing competitive chess if you have to endure conditions as unpleasant as this?

With about 30 minutes left on my clock, I went to the arbiter again and said that I could not continue to play. I said I would not resign, but neither would I make any more moves and would allow my clock to run down. He advised me that in order to lose on time, I needed to remain in the playing area. If I left the playing area before the end, my game would be forfeit. So I stayed in place, watching the other games and waiting for my flag to fall. The arbiter was present for this and formally confirmed that my opponent had won.

So I finished the event on 2.5/5, a par result, scoring 50% against opponents rated FIDE 2084 on average. This was what I expected at the start, although I could not have foreseen how it would end. As soon as my game was finished I left the playing area, returned to my room, packed forthwith and checked out. I left the venue like a bat out of hell and drove 160 miles back to Dublin ready for an early flight tomorrow. This is one chess experience I hope never to repeat.