Ultras
Me and my Dad? We’re diehards. Mum never got it. Few do. Most people don’t get the passion, the sheer life-affirming adrenaline of following something you’d put your life on the line for. Different people give us different names; Ultras, Gambit Heads, the Black and White Army. But it doesn’t matter what you call us. We’ll be there, in our scarves, banners out, chanting, shouting at the other fans. Cheering him on rain or shine, home or away, blitz or classical. We’re Richard Higgins fans till we die.
People ask us why we like him so much. “Why don’t you support an actually good player like Magnus Carlson?”, “Richard Higgins isn’t even your local player,” “Why don’t you like a normal sport like football? Why Chess?”
For me, that’s Dad to blame, I suppose. I didn’t have a choice. I was a Higgins fan from birth. The moment I was born, he had me in a baby-gro with Higgins’ famous Queen sacrifice from the 1994 Goole Masters on the front, playing with a cuddly bishop. He and his father, my Grandad, had been Higgins fans for years. Higgins’ own father had played too and I think that’s how it started. Grandad had passed away just before I was born so, when I was old enough, me and Dad started following Richard as much as we could. All his matches at weekends and all the ones midweek we could fit in around work and school. It didn’t matter where Higgins went, we’d be there.
This weekend started like any other. Qualifying rounds for the Cornish Open and we had Mike Tobey first up at 10 o’clock in Crantock. Me and Dad had our routine down to a fine art. 6.30 from Paddington to get there in time. First cans cracked open as we pulled out the station. Gone by Reading, on our individual 3rd or 4th wee by Bristol. By the time we pulled into the station and hailed a cab, we were in fine voice.
We were ushered through to the away end of the village hall by the steward (someone new called Meryl, Barbara was off sick) and got into place just as the players were finishing their warmups. Tobey was frowning at some notes in the corner. Richard was having his normal cup of tea, this week in a styrofoam cup, chatting to one of the officials.
Time to get an atmosphere going as officials set out the tables. I started banging our timpani. Dad blasted out the opening bars of ‘7 Nation Army’.
‘OOOOOH RICHIE F HIGGINS,’
‘OOOOOH RICHIE F HIGGINS,’
Richard looked up and gave us a sheepish wave.
We went ballistic.
The home end had been completely drowned out already. A couple of Magda Pugsley fans were watching. That was to be expected, it was a local fixture and she was playing later. But we were scanning for Tobey fans and we spotted one. Steve Milligan. We knew him from various away days over the years. Often in a big group of Tobey fans. Today, though, he was sitting on his own, trying half-heartedly to get some chants going himself.
Pathetic.
We chanted some more. Steve was wearing chinos – so we chanted ‘CHINOS’ at him until he cried. Then stewards got involved and told us we were disturbing the u12s match and asked us to be quiet. I hate it when they do that. The SW Premier Chess league is a pressure cooker and the kids need to learn. Mollycoddling them hinders their development, in my humble opinion.
The table, board and clock were set up now. Richard had set aside his tea and taken his place. Rearranging the white pieces so they were all perfectly aligned. One of his superstitions before the game. Tobey put his notes away and shuffled over and Richard offered him a handshake, which he took. We stood and applauded. That was great to see.
It was time for the national anthem, and we belted it out as loud as we could. It wasn’t a scheduled part of the match and no one else joined in. But we felt it was right for such an important match. Then the match could begin. Rapid game, ten minutes on the clock.
Tobey opened with d4.
“Boring!” we shouted
Richard quickly responded with c5.
Fuck. Off.
The Old Benoni?
Richard hadn’t played this defence for a decade since the 2013 Culmstock Grand Prix. We all gasped - then cheered. What a maverick.
Tobey stared, confused for a few seconds, unsure of what to play next. This hadn’t been in his notes.
We were going wild in the stands, Dad set off his flare and they paused the game while the referee opened the windows and told us we were on our final warning.
Once the smoke cleared, it was obvious Tobey had been rattled by the break. Steve was looking even more worried in the stand opposite him. Tobey was a Queen’s Gambit player - but he couldn’t stick to his strategy now, and he was low on time.
We were starting to chant ‘YOU’RE NOT SINGING, YOU’RE NOT SINGING ANYMORE’ as Tobey nudged his pawn forward one more square. Quick as a flash, Richard pushed his Queen’s pawn forward to meet it.
Tobey looked perplexed and played e4.
Richard bought his knight out onto f6. Tobey put his light squared Bishop onto b5, putting Richard’s King in check. Richard blocked with his knight.
“YOU’RE SHIT. AND YOU KNOW YOU ARE!”
Tobey twitched. We could see we were getting to him. Steve was trying to get to our side of the hall but was being restrained by an official and we could tell he wasn’t trying too hard to resist. Meryl was barely trying and kept him at bay easily. Tobey moved his bishop back a square, anticipating a6. Instead, Richard played took the undefended King’s pawn. One point up already. Me and dad were playing Thunderstruck by ACDC out of a portable speaker with our shirts off by now.
Tobey saw the threat, too late. He played Nc3, swapping knights and Richard bought his Queen into the game. The best book move for Tobey was for his light-squared bishop to take Richard’s Knight on d7, but you could tell Tobey wasn’t thinking straight. He played bd2.
Richard’s queen took the other bishop. 4-0.
Tobey knew he had to castle, so played Nf3. Richard checked the king, Tobey moved the King away and tried to manoeuvre an attack on the weak f7 square, offering a Queen trade. Richard jumped on the undefended bishop. Tobey played Qxf7. Richard moved the King away. They swapped a knight for a bishop and Richard gobbled up some more pawns. Tobey tried to give his King an escape route as Richard won his rook, blocking his route with pawns. He was on the ropes and everyone knew it. He was well down on time now and Richard played a surprising H5. Tobey took and, suddenly, Richard’s rook was in on the action. Tobey attacked it with his queen, which Richard ignored and advanced his knight. Tobey paused, looked perplexed and took. Higgins put his Knight on f4.
Oh my god. He’d forked him.
Tobey had to move his King, but in doing so would lose his Queen.
Steve in the opposite stand threw up his hands and stood up to beat the traffic. In a flash, it was all over. After a few moves, Higgins bought his bishop out and delivered the final crushing blow.
Checkmate. In just 26 moves. Higgins and Tobey shook hands
We. Went. Ballistic.
We threw our pints in the air, took off what remained of our clothes and jumped over the barrier to invade the playing area. Dad tooted his air horn. Tobey had run off to the changing rooms, protected by security, but we caught Higgins. We grabbed him and hugged each other and cried.
“You did it Rich! You did it!! We’re going to Newquay!!”
Richard was smiling too but looked sheepish. ‘Thanks guys. Think you really helped me out there today.’
We beamed back at him and Dad offered him a can of Red Stripe. ‘I’ve got another 5 games today. I shouldn’t,’ he declined politely.
We could see the stewards gathering on the sides of the hall, ready to remove us from the room. Meryl was pointing at us to two burly looking police officers who hadn’t been there at the start. We reluctantly released Richard from our grasp.
‘Guess we’ll see you next week, Rich.’
‘Thanks guys. I… I know this is a bit of an odd question, but why me? Why every week?’
We didn’t have time to answer as the police tackled us both to the floor, forced us onto our fronts and handcuffed us. As we lay; shirtless, trouser-less and pant-less in the middle of the village hall, I twisted and caught my Dad’s eye. He met mine and smiled. We never said it out loud, least of all to Higgins.
But it wasn’t about him. It wasn’t even about chess. It was about sharing something. About being together, spending time with one another until we can’t anymore. Doesn’t matter what it is, or where, as long as we get to do it together, we’ll be there every week.
“Because we’re diehards.”
Match "Higgins vs Tobey"
Location “Crantock”
Date "30.03.24"
Round "1"
White "Tobey"
Black "Higgins"
Result "0-1"
1. d4 c5 2. d5 d6 3. e4 Nf6 4. Bb5+ Nbd7 5. Ba4 5... a6 (5... Nxe4 6. c4 (6. Nf3 ) (6. Bf4 ) (6. Ne2 ) (6. Nc3 Nxc3 7. bxc3 Qa5 8. Bd2 Qxa4 9. Nf3 Qe4+ 10. Qe2 (10. Kf1 Nb6 11. Ng5 Qxd5 12. Qf3 Qxd2 13. Qxf7+ Kd8 14. Ne6+ Bxe6 15. Qxe6 Qxc3 16. g4 Qxa1+ 17. Kg2 Qd4 18. Qe3 (18. f3 h5 19. gxh5 Rxh5 20. Qg6 Nd5 21. Qxh5 Nf4+ 22. Kg3 Nxh5+ 23. Kh3 Qf2 24. c4 24... Qg3+ (24... Qxf3+ 25. Kh4 e5 26. Rf1 Be7# )
Cheers
Happy Christmas! This is the start of series 2 and plan is going to be to release the rest of this series over the Wednesdays in January. Thanks for reading! I’ve got no idea how you market a newsletter if I’m honest but I’d super appreciate it if you wanted to tell people about it by sharing it on social media or telling friends in person (which I think would be coolest). Subscribe if you haven’t already too. It’s free! Although you can pay (which some people have very kindly done) and I might reward people who do that by putting the old stories behind a paywall. If you haven’t caught up with Series 1 yet now is your chance to do so! See you next week for a Traitors-themed story.