Part 4:
Did You Ever Have To Break Up Your Tie?
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| Once again, the title of Michigan Open Champion
has been awarded after tiebreaks. This sparked a few memories of
tournaments past, where the most insignificant results had the most far-reaching
consequences on the engraving of the Palmi Trophy. But, first, there
must be a digression. |
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| Ever think about the Swiss System? It’s become
such a standard part of the tournament scene that we take it for granted,
without really examining it and its implications. |
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| Possibly the best recognized of these is the proclivity
of the System to pair you against your friends, especially after a long
ride together. It seems an established fact that the probability
of getting paired in round 1 with the person you drove in with is directly
proportional to the distance you came together. |
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| Another result, which scoresheet mavens like Nick
Pope and myself can vouch for, is the amazing consistency of pairing within
scoresheet types. You see, there are three types of chess players:
(1) Players with good handwriting; (2) Players with illegible handwriting;
(3) Players who never hand in a scoresheet. The Swiss System invariably
pairs within these types, so you either get two perfect scoresheets, two
unintelligible scoresheets, or no scoresheets at all. |
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| But these are but unintended outcomes of the Swiss
System. In essence, it’s simply a knock-out tournament with unlimited
free re-entry privileges. When it works correctly, a single winner
is produced within the shortest period of time. |
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| Unfortunately, there are factors which tend to blur
this happy ending. There may be too many players for the number or
rounds, or too few. Draws throw the system into havoc. Thus,
despite the best efforts of the Swiss System, there are many people tied
for a single trophy or title. |
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| Let me say right off that tiebreaks stink.
The only legitimate way to break a tie is a play-off, an extension of the
knock-out system. But that can be hard to arrange, both logistically
and financially, so instead we call in the Hosts of Median, the Double
Solkoff, and the Cumumumumumumulative. |
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| The principle seems valid enough: the player who
has played the stronger schedule is more worthy of the higher placement.
Sounds fine. But how do you determine this? |
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| Average rating of the opposition is the first thought,
but this has several problems. What do you do about unrated players,
for instance? And who wants to add seven 4-digit numbers without
a calculator? |
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| No, it was decided early to take the scores of the
opponent in that particular tournament. Many other adjustments were
added, until the whole system has gone beyond the knowledge of mere mortals
and is usually left to the computer that did the pairings, which won't
compute them until ALL the results are in. And that, my friends,
is why we have sudden-death time controls, after all, so that everyone
can go home at a reasonable hour. |
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| This leads to the classic situation. Two Masters
tie for first place, and the abaci come out. It turns out that Joe
Duffer, who lost to Brilliantsky in round 1, is playing down on board 358
in the Fish Tank across the street against Ed Patzer, who earlier got creamed
by Polgarnidze. The outcome of their game will decide the championship
on tiebreaks. |
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| Brilliantsky and Polgarnidze watch intensely, taking
care not to touch anything and sterilizing their hands after each trip
to the playing room. The game seesaws till about 3:00 AM, when finally
it is drawn and Moody is declared the winner by default, the two Masters
having expired of heart attacks. |
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| Actually, the classical situation doesn’t happen
that much in reality. What usually happens is that later on some
incident comes to light that affects the outcome more picturesquely than
others with equal impact, and it is remembered. |
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| Probably the most legendary case of this occurred
in the 1955 U.S. Open. Some Random player, after winning over the
board, found that his opponent had cheated during the game. He demanded
that the win be scored as a forfeit for him instead, which it was.
However, remember that in determining adjusted scores for tiebreaks, a
forfeit win is considered only ½-point instead of 1 point. |
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| What difference could this possibly make?
Mr. Random had played Samuel Reshevsky. Scoring the game as a forfeit
lowered his adjusted score ½-point, which lowered Reshevsky’s tiebreaks
½-point—which was just enough to give the U.S. Open title
to Nicholas Rossolimo on tiebreaks! |
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| We’ve never had it quite that bad at the Michigan
Open, but here’s one interesting case of how the tournament was decided
by an Irrelevant Game: |
Steve Mellen (1987) - Marvin Kornhauser (1777)
[A07/11] Reti: King’s Indian
Lansing, Michigan Open, 1989, Round 7, Board 22
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1.Nf3 Nf6 2.g3 g6 3.Bg2 Bg7 4.0-0 0-0 5.d3 d5 6.Nbd2
Bg4 7.Rb1 Nbd7 8.h3 Bxf3 9.exf3 e5 10.Re1 Re8 11.b3 c6 12.c4 Qc7 13.Qc2
Rad8 14.cxd5 Nxd5 15.f4 Nb4 16.Qc4 Nxa2 17.Bb2 a5 18.fxe5 Nxe5 19.Qf4 Nb4
20.Be4 f5 21.d4 fxe4 22.dxe5 Nd3 23.Qxe4 Nxe1 24.Nc4 Nd3 25.Nd6 Qxd6 26.Rd1
Bxe5 27.Bxe5 Rxe5 28.Qc4+ Qd5 29.Rxd3
| Yep, your eyes do not deceive you—Black has a simple mate in two with
29...Re1+ and 30...Rh1#. |
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| These things happen in a long tournament.
So what? Well, earlier in the tournament, Mellen had played Robin
Cunningham. This totally undeserved half-point was just enough to
give Cunningham the title on tiebreaks. |
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| But my favorite case did follow the classical mode
to some extent. It involves the Saga of Don Mason. |
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| Back in 1985, the sudden-death time control was
not in use in the Michigan Open. You could play all night, and some
players tended to give it a shot. Don Mason was such a player. |
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| He played his first game Friday night, and won a
sprightly 29-mover. In round two, he lost a heartbreaker right at
the first time control, after four hours of play. His third round
game went 61 moves, finishing after 2:00 A.M. |
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| Round 4, he had to adjourn. In round 5, he
played until 1:30 A.M., then spent another hour finishing up the adjournment. |
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| You can guess, of course, who had one of the last
games in round 7. |
Robert Avery (2124) - Don Mason (2035)
[E32/07] Nimzo-Indian: Classical
East Lansing, Michigan Open, 1985, Round 7
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1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.Qc2 0-0 5.a3 Bxc3+ 6.Qxc3
d5 7.Nf3 Nbd7 8.b4 dxc4 9.Qxc4 Nb6 10.Qc2 Bd7 11.e3 Ba4 12.Qb1 a6 13.Bd3
h6 14.0-0 Bb5 15.Bd2 Ne8 16.Rc1 f5 17.Ne5 Nd6 18.Qb3 Re8 19.a4 Bxd3 20.Qxd3
c6 21.f3 Nd7 22.Bc3 Nf6 23.Re1 Nf7 24.Nxf7 Kxf7 25.e4 f4 26.Qc4 b5 27.Qb3
Re7 28.Ra2 Ne8 29.Rea1 Rc8 30.g3 fxg3 31.hxg3 Nd6 32.Re2 Nc4 33.f4 Qd7
34.Rf1 g6 35.Ba1 Rf8 36.Qc3 Ke8 37.Ra2 Ref7 38.Raf2 g5 39.axb5 axb5 40.Qc1
gxf4 41.gxf4 Qe7 42.Bc3 Qh4 43.Rh2 Qg3+ 44.Rg2 Qe3+ 45.Kh1 Qxe4 46.Re1
Qd5 47.Qa1 Rxf4 48.Qa8+ Ke7 49.Qa7+ Kd6 50.Qc5+ Kd7 51.Qa7+ ½-½.
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| Yes, Black is two pawns up, and probably winning.
But Mason was exhausted—and he had to go to work after the game!
Hence a draw was agreed, the tiebreaks were screwed up, and Gary Kitts
won the title instead of Dexter Thompson. |
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| Yes, I hate tiebreaks—even though I’ve been on the
good side of many of them over the years. I once won a trophy
on the seventh tiebreak, most Blacks, if you can believe that (worse yet,
I had to ride home with the guy I beat out!). And many’s the time
I’ve been glad that the prize was determined by those stray 3s and 4s and
1½s, instead of having the games being judged for quality like figure-skating... |
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| But then, that’s another story. |
