TDR cannot be checkmated

 

It is indeed strange when it takes almost half a century to realise what the initials of a dear friend’s name stands for. But then again, when someone has always been addressed and referred to by the initials of a name, it becomes in fact ‘The Name’ for all intents and purposes. No disrespect intended and none taken.

TDR. We will get to his ‘full name’ later. Peiris. I knew his surname because it appeared on pairing cards at chess tournaments which we both played in.

TDR was older and by the late 1970s was already one of the top players in the country. The first time we crossed swords over the chess board was at the Open Qualifying Tournament in 1979. The top finishers would make it to the ‘Open Finals’ where those who played in the Premier Division, the National Women’s Champion and the Outstation Champion also competed.  

I believe I met TDR in the penultimate round of the tournament which was held at Hotel Ranmuthu. It was a must-win game for me. I was 13 or 14 and was excited. And hopeful. TDR beat me. I held back my tears, shook hands, signed the score sheet and left. I intended to come back, so I left behind my chess board, set of pieces, score sheets etc.

Once out of the hotel and out of sight of chess players including close friends, I could grieve. I still remember walking along Galle Road in the direction of Bambalapitiya. All of a sudden, TDR was there. He had noticed and probably felt sorry for me. He came up to me, put his arm around my shoulder and tried to comfort me. He even promised never to beat me if we ever played again.

The next time was the Anatoly Karpov Championship. It was held at the Soviet Cultural House, at the time located on W A D Ramanayake Mawatha. We were paired in one of the rounds. I can’t remember who offered the draw, but it was accepted. I don’t know if I deserved a draw, i.e. the position didn’t show a clear win for him. He was probably keeping his promise.

There were other occasions over the next several years. TDR never defeated me. There were a few draws and a couple of times when I beat him. To this day whenever we meet, he reminds me of one particular tournament, probably an Open Final. He claims that my father beat him in one round as did my older brother in the following round. He had to play me in the next round and he says I beat him and this almost made him give up chess. He didn’t.

The last time we met in a tournament was about 7 or 8 years ago: the National Senior Championship. A draw. Neither of us were keen on ‘playing hard.’ TDR won. I came third. By this time, almost 40 years since that sad evening at Ranmuthu Hotel, we were beyond or above winning (and losing). TDR never really retired. Even today he competes in top tournaments, decades after I played my final serious chess game.

We are friends. He was already a seasoned player when I made it to the national team in 1986. We were team-mates. I played in the nationals just once. TDR probably played over 30 times. Maybe over 40. He is a four-time national champion and also won the senior national title (for players over 50 years of age) 10 years in a row.

TDR first played in the nationals in 1979. He scored just half a point. The following year he won his first time. He won again in 1983, 1995 and 2004. He won the National Open title in 1983, the first player to win the nationals and the ‘Open’ in the same year.

Today, as I look back, I realise that all I remember of him is that he was for the most part self-taught. Attacking. Fast. In another time, another century in fact, he would have easily earned a Grandmaster title. He didn’t and doesn’t complain. He just laughs it off.  

A few days ago, the Chess Federation of Sri Lanka celebrated International Chess Day by organising a special event at the Havelock City Mall. Women’s National Champion Dahamdi Sanudula agreed to a simultaneous exhibition, playing against several persons with disabilities. It was a fun event and attracted several active young chess players as well as people much older who came because they loved the game. TDR was one of them.

The event celebrated inclusivity. It also attracted a lot of kids whose parents somehow thought there was going to be a tournament. Then there were shoppers who stopped by and wanted to play. There were enough tables, chairs, boards and pieces for all of them.

I told TDR that he has to play simultaneously against 10-15 players.

‘Sure.’

That’s all.

He played. He won each and every game and even agreed to a second game with those who requested. Watching him move from table to table, almost 70 years now and having lost the sight of one eye, I couldn’t help but feel immensely privileged to be his friend and just to know that there was someone like him whose love for the game has not diminished one bit in the almost half a century that I’ve known him.


Telge Dantha Ravindra Peiris. I had to ask him this morning. He was chuckling as he said it and added that he used other names ‘for jobs and girls.’ Years ago, that is, But now, as it was back in 1979, it’s ‘TDR.’  

TDR will always make me think of brilliance, dedication, passion and humility. He has won so much. He has suffered his share of losses. He cannot be checkmated, in a sense.

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The long road to ‘Gold’ at the Chess Olympiad

It’s a long way from Colombo to Tromso.  Indeed, a few years ago none who undertook the journey to the distant fishing ‘village’ in the northern part of Norway would have heard the name.  That is, not until FIDE, the world body governing chess announced that the 2014 Chess Olympiad would be held there.  The journey was long.  It was arduous too because a cash-strapped Chess Federation had to arrange a flight + train + bus journey.  There were no tickets by the time the visas came through.  In fact the manager got his visa so late that the team left without him.  He left the following day, but due to fortuitous scheduling of trains, arrived in Tromso just a few hours after the team did.

No one complained.   They took a flight to Stockholm, followed by a 22 hour train ride to Narvik, Norway and a 4 hour bus ride to Tromso.  They still managed to arrive a day before the tournament started without any loss of enthusiasm.  Sri Lanka fielded a solid team which included three national champions, G.C. Anuruddha (who was playing in his 6^th Olympiad), Chamika Perera (National Champion 2011) and Isuru Alahakoon (National Champion 2012, 2013 and 2014), the last two playing in their second Olympiad.  It was Prasanna Kurukulasuriya’s first Olympiad but he has been consistently among the top 10 players in Sri Lanka for more than a decade now.  Rajeendra Kalugampitiya, currently the No 1 blitz and rapid player in Sri Lanka, first played in the Olympiad in 2006 when he was a schoolboy.  This was his second Olympiad.

There was also a women’s team, led by Anuththara Chandrasiri of Girls’ High School, Kandy.  They performed creditably, winning 5 and losing 6 of their matches.  This story, however, is about the men’s team, competing in the Open Section. 

The team had been put through a tough training program organized by the Federation which secured the services of a top coach from Greece, Efstratios Grivas.  He spent two weeks in Sri Lanka and the players agree that this was the best preparation they had seen in many years.  Grivas, a key member of FIDE’s training program, was at hand in Tromso to help the team.  He spent a vital 2 hours with them every morning, going through the games they had played and helping them prepare for the particular opponents in the afternoon.   Most importantly, he infused a sense of purpose and gave the players ample confidence especially when they took on opponents with higher ratings.  None of the players would ever be intimated by titles such as Grandmaster (GM) or International Master (IM). 

Sri Lanka was ranked 120^th in a field of 172 teams.  The team didn’t have a single IM or GM.  They ended 74^th.   That leap was enough to secure a Gold for the team according to the tournament format which offered ‘category prizes’ for the best performing teams in 5 different rating-related segments.  It was tough going all the way.  As the coach pointed out, there are no bad teams, everyone comes to play chess and you have to be totally focused in order to win. 

Sri Lanka’s low ranking assured a strong opponent in the first round.  Sweden, ranked 34^th, had 4 GMs.  Sri Lanka lost 1-3, Alahakoon and Kalugampitiya drawing their respective games, the latter actually missing a relatively easy win.  Sri Lanka beat Honduras (125^th) 3-1 in the next round but lost to 66^th Ranked Scotland in the 3^rd round, 1-3. Scotland boasted of 2GMs.  Anuruddha drew with one of them while Alahakoon drew with FIDE Master Alan Tate.  The loss gave Sri Lanka a weaker opponent in the 4^th round, Malawi (134^th).  A 3-1 win saw Sri Lanka being paired with Venezuela (61^st) in the 6^th round. Venezuela, with 1 GM and 1 IM had a tough time.  Mistakes under pressure saw what ought to have been a  2.5-1.5 victory turn into a 1.5-2.5 defeat.  Anuruddha drew against an IM while Chamika defeated an FM. 

The pattern of loss followed by victory was wrecked when Sri Lanka defeated Afghanistan 4-0 and Jamaica 2.5-1.5 in the next two rounds.  It was at this point that Sri Lanka became a contender for the category prize.  The next two assignments, however, were tough.  Finland, ranked 56^th with a GM and 2 IMs, defeated Sri Lanka 4-0 while Sri Lanka went down to 55^th ranked Bangladesh 1-3.  In the latter match, had opportunities not been squandered, a draw or even a victory might have been possible. 

It all came down to the last round.  Sri Lanka was drawn to play New Zealand, a team with 3 IMs and ranked 44 spots higher.  Kurukulasuriya lost relatively quickly on Board 1, adding pressure to the other 3 players.  Anuruddha got into difficulties but fought as tenaciously as he had throughout the tournament to secure a draw.   He remained the only unbeaten player in the team and won an FM title for his efforts.  Chamika and Isuru battled hard to score memorable wins over considerably higher ranked players.  They held their nerve although down to a few seconds on the ‘clock’, unfazed even by the huge commotion caused by a Swiss player collapsing with a heart attack. 

That 2.5-1.5 win pushed Sri Lanka marginally higher than Lebanon on the tie break for the category prize.  There was jubilation, naturally, for Sri Lanka had not won a category prize in over 30 years.  The entire team put it down to better preparation courtesy the foresight of the Federation to secure Mr Grivas’ services.  The players themselves kept their motivational levels high despite setbacks, determined to do their best without being intimated by players stronger on paper. 

Anuruddha, in particular, brought all his experience into play.  Isuru Alahakoon, the team’s captain, gets the credit for both his excellent play and for convincing his teammates that the team should not be happy with consolation prizes of securing the odd draw with a GM or IM, instead they should aim to win the particular match.  Kurukulasuriya, handed the toughest assignment of playing on Board 1, played game after tough game without complaint.  Chamika Perera offered solidity on Boards 2 and 3, while Kalugampitya was gracious to acknowledge form loss.  This did not stop him from constantly backing his team and reveling in their victories.  It was, in this sense, an excellent team effort.  A well deserved Gold. 

[The writer accompanied the team as Manager cum Non-Playing Captain]

     

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Eriyagama is not a place or a bend in the road

Place names fascinate me.  Years ago I even made a list of place names ending with deniya.  I remember ‘collecting’ about 75 such villages.  Peradeniya, Penideniya, Ududeniya, Udadeniya, Dambadeniya, Randeniya, Middeniya, Meedeniya, Madeniya, Dehideniya, Deldeniya, Padeniya, Pindeniya, Gandeniya, Gangodadeniya, Bangadeniya, Theldeniya, Embuldeniya, Paragahadeniya, Dummaladeniya, Dunakadeniya, Apaladeniya, Bangadeniya, Puwakdeniya, Gorakadeniya, Moonamaldeniya, Dandeniya, Ududeniya, Karandeniya, Kiriwandeniya, Thoradeniya, Weweldeniya, Nelundeniya, Elemaldeniya, Pothukoladeniya, Waduwadeniya, Ratmaldeniya, Gadaladeniya, Watadeniya, Kotadeniya and some 35 others which have left me over the past 18 years or so.

Place names roll off the tongue like poetry.  I am thinking of Eriyagama.  I do not know the etymology. I know nothing of the history. I don’t even know if Eriyagama is anything more than a bend in the Colombo-Kandy road, within a hoove-dura (the ‘distance of a hoot’) from Peradeniya.  I know there’s a wine-store cum bar in Eriyagama. That’s it. Well, this, and then Eriyagama.  Sarath. 

I assume Sarath Eriyagama hails from Eriyagama. Makes sense to assume this. I haven’t asked him, although I’ve known him for almost thirty years. We’ve not have many conversations.  Eriyagama, for me, is synonymous with ‘Sarath’ and ‘Chess’.  Other associations are marginal to me. 

I remember Sarath Aiya first as a chess player and then as a coach.  I know him as a man who single-handedly took chess out of the so-called elite schools or, to put another way, out of the circle of domination by schools such as Royal, St. Thomas’ and Trinity and later Ananda.  Dharmaraja was not a ‘name’ in the seventies. It was, after 1980 or so.  That’s thanks to Sarath Eriyagama. 

Sarath Aiya has been coaching since the seventies.  As a player and later coach from what could be called a rival school, I had many run-ins with him, especially in the eighties.  There were no harsh words.  Just disagreements.  I felt that he was wont to tweak the rules now and then and I am sure he may have thought the same of me.  It’s all so long ago and I don’t even remember moment and incident.  I remember this: through it all, there was respect and admiration for all that he had done to develop chess in Sri Lanka. 

In the early seventies, there were only a handful of schools playing chess in Sri Lanka.  Apart from those mentioned above, there were two or three big-name schools in Kandy, St John’s and Jaffna Hindu from the peninsula and the occasional ‘outsider’.  Today there are hundreds of schools playing chess in all parts of the country.  Few will remember and fewer still will acknowledge Sarath Eriyagama’s role in all this. 

I am not saying that no one else did anything for chess in Sri Lanka of course, but few can claim to have done anything close to what he did to popularize the game.  He coached many schools in Kandy. He took the game to other parts of the country or went out of his way to help uplift the game if someone wanted his assistance.  Matale will remember his name. Kegalle too. Kurunegala owes much to him. Other parts of the Central Province too. 

He played a key role in setting up the Central Province Chess Association whose activities over the past several decades have unearthed a wealth of chess talent and helped hone the skills of countless players.  He was also instrumental in setting up the Schools Chess Association. If I remember right, this was at a time when for some reason there was some tension between the Chess Federation and himself.  Anyway, today, that institution, for all its flaws, plays a key role in chess development and is clearly in the forefront of promoting the game in places far away from the capital.

I wonder how many players acknowledge what Sarath Eriyagama did to turn them into who they are.  Not many I am sure, because students rarely acknowledge the contribution of teachers. I know for a fact what a thankless task Sarath Aiya has set himself, the abuse he has suffered and the costs that no one bothers to count or compensate.

He has been coaching Kandy High School for 18 years now and I learnt that KHS has been placed among the first 3 in over 200 tournaments since he took over.  That alone is enough by way of ‘lifetime achievement’. 

Tireless. Ageless. Committed. That’s Sarath Eriyagama. He loves chess, clearly.  May his tribe increase!

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