My Experience at the 2018 Western Invitational Chess Camp

Before embarking on a monologue about an amazing chess camp, I would like to state that I write this anonymously. Please respect that (even though I'm obviously the only Valkyrie to attend camp).

 For those who are unfamiliar with the camp, I shall supply some general information: The camp went from July 15 to July 19 and took place at the Hilton El Conquistador Resort in Tucson, Arizona. Each day featured three lectures from the instructors, a lunch break, an unrated tournament game, game review (with an instructor), one more lecture, a dinner break, and a nightly activity (the last day was slightly different; it has been described below). The instructors this year included GM Melikset Khachiyan, GM Julio Sadorra, GM Daniel Naroditsky, GM Magesh Panchanathan, IM Danny Rensch, IM John Bartholomew, and IM Joel Banawa. The head of the camp, IM-elect Robby Adamson, didn't do any lectures himself, but he did assist in reviewing the camp tournament games (there were five rounds total, with one tournament game a day; while the games were unrated, awards were given to the tournament winners at the end of camp). In describing the events of the camp, I will attempt to keep everything in chronological order, but I can only guess the date of some things.

The camp instructors

 On the morning of the first day (July 15), everyone met in the tournament room for announcements, after which Robby Adamson sent the campers off to their respective groups (which were split by rating). My group's first lecture was taught by Naroditsky, who discussed methods of calculation. He had a self-deprecating, tongue-in-cheek sense of humor that he incorporated into some parts of his lecture nicely. Next, my group had Khachiyan, who went over more positional ideas; while described by Robby Adamson as the "happiest GM in the world" (an understatement), I must admit that Khachiyan becomes very serious whenever teaching. This is probably for the better, as some of the groups of campers can become a bit wild when unattended (strangely, my group this year was very composed and focused even during breaks). After Khachiyan was Sadorra, who I suppose I need to call Julio-sensei from now on, as he somehow infused karate into his chess teaching program.

 After eating lunch, I played my first tournament game in camp (I believe the time control was 30 minutes with 5 second delay). By some miracle, I got out first and was able to have my game analyzed immediately; the instructor who went over it was Panchanathan (the only newcomer among the instructors). Panchanathan did a very good job.

 The final lecture of the day was by Bartholomew, who I might describe as the calmest of the instructors; he went over opening preparation. Afterwards I attended the only mandatory night activity in the camp--the "meet and greet," where I received my camp shirt, hat, and board. The instructors were giving out autographs, but I was satisfied and left the area without any (I had already gotten most of their autographs from previous years).

 The next morning was picture day. Before attending any lectures, all the campers had to gather outside; Robby Adamson and his photographer would arrange us for each shot. To summarize the experience in one sentence, it was like herding cats. (Nevertheless, the pictures look great.)

 Panchanathan did the first lecture of the day and covered Rook endings (since I'm trying to improve my endings, Panchanathan's lectures proved extremely useful). He was fond of chess history, and quickly established that he'd give a pop quiz on world champions on the last/fifth day. Next was Banawa, who talked about dynamic play and showed some crazily beautiful games (I remember him covering exchange sacrifices by Tigran Petrosian in a previous year, so I think he must be very fond of sacrificial play). After Banawa came Bartholomew's second lecture with my group, after which I had lunch and played my second tournament game. The game was frustrating for me, as I kept feeling like I was better but couldn't find a breakthrough; when analyzing it later with Julio Sadorra, he evaluated that both sides played very solidly and the draw I got was normal. Near the end of the analysis, some of the other instructors started playing tandem blitz nearby and we couldn't concentrate anymore; Sadorra wrapped up the analysis, stating that we had to see the tandem game. I watched it, and it was beyond worth it. (One highlight for me was when one side was significantly down, but one of the instructors on the worse side insisted "We have better pawn structure!")

The camp tournament

 Shortly after the tandem shenanigans ended, my group had their first lecture with Rensch, who provided some very interesting, albeit very difficult positions for us to solve (it was a lecture on endgame-related calculation). Later came day two's nightly activity--the bughouse tournament. I don't play bughouse, so I did not attend.

 By day three, I noticed that Robby Adamson was everywhere. At first I presumed he was just keeping track of things, but later I discovered he was also dabbling in a bit of amusingly trollish behavior. During one of the breaks in between lectures, he sneakily poked his head in the room (I alone saw him; everyone else in my group was either on their phone or playing a casual game). After waiting a bit, he yelled "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" startling everyone except me. (Um...Robby Adamson...that was just...so bad...)

 My day three tournament game did not go as well as the last ones. I was very tired and messed up horribly in the opening, but managed stave off panic, hunker down, and pull through. The final lecture of the day followed not long afterwards; it was by Sadorra and covered improving one's pieces to set up tactics.

 Tonight was movie night. Searching for Bobby Fischer was initially going to be played on the big screen by the pool, but the pool was closed because a child had a little "accident." (Either that, or someone threw a Baby Ruth in there.) The movie was moved indoors, but before attending I sat on a cushy seat just outside the lobby. Last year, I had made it a tradition to watch the sunset each night from my room; due to it being monsoon season, I saw some of the most wild, colorful skies in the world. This year, my room wasn't in a spot where I could see the sunset, but I tried my best on day three. On that cushy seat, I watched the mountains turn into one of the most vibrant shades of orange I've ever seen; the setting sun, unseen from behind the buildings, was straight across from the mountains. As sunset turned to twilight, swallows came fluttering out of the palm trees in unison. I think it was that moment that I realized I was in one of the most magically beautiful places in the world. It was the kind of place where just the thought of leaving could bring tears to my eyes. I have been all over the world, and yet very few places have ever affected me this way; I knew the El Conquistador Resort would have a place in my heart forever.

A view of some of the mountains from the resort

 Once it became dark, I joined the other campers inside. The movie had already started; the scene came where the violently competitive parents were dragged out of the scholastic tournament. The children in the movie clapped, and then I had a good laugh when many of the Western Invitational campers started applauding too.

 On the next/fourth day, the lectures and my tournament game were fine. I prepared myself for this night's activity (an extremely strong blitz tournament) by wearing an aggressive shirt to intimidate my opponents. I believe my strategy backfired--by the end of the tournament, I had accumulated a significant amount of butthurt. But blitz barely counts as chess in my mind, so I was quick to recover. Also, I congratulate Daniel Naroditsky on winning the blitz tournament.

 The final/fifth day's schedule was different from the other ones. It featured the normal three lectures followed by the last tournament round and game review, but then deviated. Replacing the fourth lecture were the evaluations (in which each camper would meet with an assigned instructor and discuss how to improve their chess), and the nightly activity for this day was a banquet down at an area called The Last Territory.

 Sadorra, Panchanathan, and Rensch lectured my group on the last day. Panchanathan continued his lecture on Rook endings while keeping his promise of giving us a quiz on world champions (I aced the quiz!). I then spent much of my lunch break preparing for the last round. I knew who my opponent would be, and I had witnessed him seeing much deeper lines than I could in some of the lectures. But puzzles and playing are two different animals; I reassured myself that just because you're a master putter doesn't mean you're a master golfer. I went into the last round and won it handily. After my game was reviewed, I had my evaluation with Khachiyan; our conversation was very useful to me, and I think I'm now set for how I plan to improve my chess over the next year.

 Once the evaluations were finished, the campers met in the lobby, and some of the instructors led the way through the parking lot to The Last Territory. Robby Adamson disappeared and then reappeared in the eponymous sketchy white van, zooming past us and reaching The Last Territory first ("Engine user!" someone called out). I sat with a friend from my group and, when I was able to get food, watched in dismay as two boys from another group raided the churros. They insisted they were going to share their huge churro plate with friends, but my bullcrap senses were tingling.

 After everyone was fed, the awards were given out. Even the instructors received some awards (Julio-sensei went leaping and kicking his way over to Robby Adamson to take his, of course). I have to say that this banquet contained some of happiest moments of my life.

 Later that night, after the banquet, I went on a walk around the hotel with my best friend. Maybe I'm older mentally or maybe I'm just weird, but sometimes I feel time slipping away from me faster than I want it to. I had this sensation while walking with my friend, and I admitted this to him. I also admitted that I was already a bit depressed that the fun/the chess camp had already come and gone. My best friend told me that that was natural, but also told me that life is a fun and wild adventure. At that moment, I remembered that a Zen master once wrote:

"Not twice this day
Inch time foot gem.
This day will not come again.
Each minute is worth a priceless gem."

 Now that I look back on it, Western Invitational Chess Camp was indeed a fun and wild adventure, and each minute there was maybe not worth a priceless gem, but rather worth 20 priceless gems. Some of the best moments of my life were spent there, and I can never thank Robby Adamson and the instructors enough for giving me these priceless gems.

 I will conclude my narrative with some funny moments from the camp that I couldn't quite fit in the chronology of the above narrative:

• On the first day of camp, one of my favorite GMs gave me what is perhaps the best greeting I've ever received: "I had the unfortunate privilege of meeting you last year." I inevitably started laughing.
• Just before a round started, a camper asked Robby Adamson if he could call threefold repetition if he was in a losing position. Robby Adamson replied that threefold repetition applies to all games except that camper's.
• During the banquet, four of the instructors started playing tandem blitz. One instructor banged his fist on the table to emphasize his claim that their position was better. 90% of the pieces scooted over an inch forward as a result (miraculously, none toppled over).
• While waiting for an instructor to become open to game analysis, I watched Julio Sadorra analyze a game from a higher rated group. At one point, one of the people who played the game suggested a move that walked into mate in 1. Sadorra's voice instantaneously went up at least two octaves; a nearby Melik Khachiyan paused, stared, and said "Someone isn't healthy!" Sadorra pointed to the Rook that would be taken to execute the mate in 1 and said (his voice still high-pitched) "This Rook isn't healthy!!"

 I know this narrative has been too long already, but there is one more thing I have say about the camp--namely, a criticism. That criticism is that there wasn't enough "so bad." Thus, I propose that we undertake a revolution to bring back "so bad."

A modified version of "Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth" created for propaganda purposes