Down to the wire. For whom the bell tolls. It ain’t over till the fat lady sings. Kill or be killed.
These corny verses are part of VAS’ DNA. They ring in our heads constantly, waking us at night, written in our morning cappuccinos. We just don’t know how to walk a straight line. Words like “security” and “safety” are foreign to this team. VAS1 men play Russian roulette with 5 bullets in the chamber. We play for drama, for the fans, to earn Niels’ approval.
May 10th was never going to be different. Needing 5-5 against a valiant team who battled giants all year long, the challenge lay ahead. Bad news was coming in: Beton Anton could not attend; Mr Smooth Silky Hilke decided it was better to enjoy the sun on his motorcycle, shirtless and drinking frosty milkshakes, rather than to report for duty; the Spanish Etos Marcos got poisoned by someone who wished us ill; Pascal the Vandal was attempting yet again to succeed his bitterballen course after failing twice. Fortunately, our friends from the East, Novak and Toni were available to heed the call. Victor, who was sunbathing in a spa nearby, also jumped in as a last minute replacement for Marcos.
The first hour was indicative of things to come and did not disappoint. Victor, who had a shaky season, decided to sacrifice a piece on move 8… Tex and Ramon, our 2 leaders, had achieved little with white. Job, Rafael, Daan all had suspicious openings with black. Novak spent no less than 45 minutes on move 4. After a lukewarm season, I had been placed on board 7, away from danger of the top boards, but was given the challenge of their favorite, IM Ivo Maris. All bad omens. Fortunately, sometimes Caissa (the chess Goddess, not the mischievous-yet-always-
On my end, I’ve been battling all season between caution and bloodlust, never knowing where I should stand in the intricate dynamics of team competition. Maris made that decision easy for me: he got me out of book on move 3 (a common theme this year) and essentially provoked me to attack him. I didn’t know the guy and had assumed somewhat that he was a positional player (I learned later he was rather a killer tactician). Fortune favors the misinformed. I threw pieces around which landed on all the right squares and got a quick win for the team. Funny anecdote, after the game, Novak asked me with a sly smile: “I don’t understand Marc. You asked everyone to play good and respectable chess. Yet you go full pitch crazy and play h4 on move 4…”
Rebel Rafael. Answers to no one. Delivers his own merchandise. His way. No menu on his card. In a delicate defensive task, he was offered a dubious piece sack. He took it, defended well a few moves, and converted the endgame extremely confidently. Savvy score at an uncertain time for our youngster.
Furor Victor was still playing quickly and confidently, which convinced everyone that his piece sacrifice (on move 8 in case you weren’t following) was brilliant. Truth be told, the engine disagreed. Fortune favors the misinformed (again): Vic fooled everyone (including himself) and ended up being a pawn up and mopped up nicely in a sweet finale. Everyone was happy for the man.
4-0. One point away from deliciousness. And things looking brightly on other boards. Dunkirk Sierk (couldn’t find other words that rhymed, but it fits perfectly to the man and situation, don’t you think?) faced Assen’s second in command. With black, Sierk equalized, then took a small edge, and had a type of position that he nurses so well. Things became tricky after an exchange of rooks and suddenly, unexpectedly, the game entered an endgame that was simply losing. Chesswise, a slight setback for the team. Personally, it’s a treat to have such a true fan of the game within our ranks.
Ramon the Canon, leaves no one indifferent on his path. You cannot not hear him. You cannot ignore his virile manhood. He’s enthusiastic, brash, and likes to eat at the most awkward times. The son-of-a-gun can also play a mean game of chess. We all followed his journey towards the IM norm (which he narrowly missed). For one rare time, he lacked energy for this last round clash, but he played well enough to earn a very crucial draw.
Melancholiac Novak. They don’t make IMs like that anymore. Philosphical, humanistic, deep. For him, chess is an allegory about ontological metaphysics painted on a backdrop of romantic post-modernism. He can sing. He can tell a joke. He can play b6 on the 1st move. And waste half his time on move 4. Wonderful addition to VAS chess, and an even better addition to celebrations.
Job the positional Blob. Rarely have I seen a guy completely worriless about his openings. Yet again, his opponent appeared to be developing a dangerous attack. Sweat was pouring everywhere, except on Job’s forehead. Completely calm, he liquidated the position and even had chances for an upset.
Sneaky Toni (who you may not know but is a silver medalist at the 2024 Olympiads, ahead of Prag, So, Wei, …) came back to Amsterdam to help out for our mission. As fate would have it, he faced the lowest rated player. But it took quite a mighty effort and some positional contortions to earn the full point. Classy classy guy all around.
Apex Tex. Fits nicely. He just wins. Good opening. Bad opening. Good energy. Bad energy. Nothing really matters, he piles up the points by working his opponent until they tumble. And they do so methodically. In a late endgame, he sacrificed a pawn for some sneaky activity with Knight and Queen. Defendable perhaps, but an impossible task for his valiant opponent on increment alone.
There it is. Qualification attained at the finish line, just like last year. A crazy magnificent season. Coupled with an amazing last round by VAS2 who promoted. And great news, iconic GM Friso Nijboer will join our ranks to help us fight for the top honors. I’ll finish this chronicle the same way it started, with corny banalities. Here goes: