A Toronto Story: My Trip to the FIDE Candidates 2024

Having been gone for 7.5 days, having driven 7330 kilometers in 70 hours, 54 minutes, and 07 seconds, and having spent $3998.30 on motel rooms, vehicle repairs, admissions, meals, and our newly carbon-taxed gas, I now pause to address the question: Why in hell did I do it?

Well, I love this game. You wouldn’t know it going by my rating or my apparent inability to improve, but chess has got its hooks in me. I train a little bit almost every day. I think about it all the time. It’s what I want to do on the weekend and the sport I’m most likely to be watching in the evening. I feel like I know the commentators intimately by now. I recognize the big players and follow their results like a baseball nerd with his pitchers. When I heard the Candidates would be held in Toronto (not only a Canadian but a North American historical first), a plan started incubating in my brain. When I heard the Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter would be hitting the city in the same timeframe, I knew I had to go. I bought a ticket to see the good Reverend in Vancouver back in February, but I fell ill and couldn’t make it. As it turned out, she fell ill at the same time and the show was canceled, thereby saving me from a rather enormous disappointment. This felt like a higher emanation was setting down before me an obvious opportunity.

I could have flown, of course. Less time getting there, more time being there. Cheaper, probably. Less stressful, certainly. But I guess this trip wasn’t just about the Candidates or the Reverend Kristin, but also about the way I’ve been feeling lately: dependent, depressed, stagnant, and ageing fast. I feel like I’ve been making excuses for years why I don’t get out more. My introverted tendencies take over and I pretend that there is nothing to see. (In fact, in central Canada in early April, there is very little at all to see.) This road trip felt spontaneous, challenging, and a little bit crazy to undertake. Something a younger version of me would have done. So I went. This was a long drive for someone with nothing to think about… 

Day 1 was by turns boring and catastrophic. The lone highlight was discovering the Beacon coffee shop in Caronport (a.k.a. Nowhere), Saskatchewan. I was down to my last 7km worth of fuel when I discovered this little gem, complete with gas station. Prairie photography on the wall and for sale in a little blue suitcase. Good, strong coffee. Check this out if you ever go to SK. Later on I pulled out to pass a vehicle between Regina and (gasp!) Indian Head, SK and promptly ran over a ladder that some upstanding workman left for safekeeping on Highway 1. I saw him driving up the ditch to retrieve the hazard. Too late, alas. No company markings on the vehicle either. Nice. I thought I was okay, but soon heard a “pop” so I had to stop. Thanks mom and dad for gifting me that A.M.A. membership all these years and to the fine gentlemen at OK Tire, Indian Head for working late to fix me up. 

I don’t really remember much of Day 2. I started out in Moosomin, SK (don’t stop here – f**cking train whistles all night long) and ended up in Nipigon, ON, the home of Canada’s tiniest Canadian Tire store, apparently. Manitoba had a lot of trains. Also of note, I passed through Portage La Prairie, the home of one of my favourite bands. Thrash on, halfheads. Ontario had a lot of rocky outcrops along the highway, with little rock piles or inukshuk-like figures on nearly every one. I didn’t enjoy my time driving through this great province though, I must admit. After going 150+ kilometers without seeing a gas station or an exit sign for one, I had to call A.M.A. again to get fuel and directions close to Sudbury. Slow highway speeds, crazy high taxes, and government-owned liquor outlets that close by dinnertime. The Albertan in me recoils at the very name of alien Ontario (just kidding…). Anyway I made it to my hotel in Toronto, which turned out to be a spacious studio apartment on Church Street, with intermittent hot water but a full kitchen and living room in addition to the usual bed and bath. It was tough to find affordable, non-dormitory housing in downtown Toronto, so I thought I did okay with the Town Inn Suites.  

The neighbourhood was fascinating, but I wouldn’t exactly recommend the Village for those travelers with a more traditionalist worldview. I stopped at a Second Cup near my hotel and saw a man who looked a bit like Roddy Bottum wearing tighty-whitey undies with hockey socks pulled most of the way up, revealing what I suppose was intended as an alluring bit of groin muscle and butt cheek. Two venerable elders near the entrance loudly and explicitly discussed their experiences at a recent same sex gathering of like-minded libertines. I took in the sights of Trinity Bellwoods Park and got a bang out of reading the invitations for hot sex scrawled all over the bathroom walls, complete with specific dates and times and prices paid for services. The Communists, too, are out in force here. Or at least they had a very effective poster campaign. “Hmm…” said I to myself, “it seems I’m not in Alberta anymore.”

Alright, down to the chess part. The admission process at Toronto’s Great Hall for Day 2 of the Candidates was slow and confusing. I slightly regret not answering “yes” to the security guard’s query if I had showed up early to volunteer. Might have been a good gig. But I had already paid for tickets, so who wants to work? Essentially they wanted everyone with balcony access during the first time slot to enter the venue first, which meant that the rest of us had to wait outside in the freezing wind for half an hour. “Is this normal in Canada?” asked a man from southern California. Yeah, I guess so.

Once inside we were greeted by the welcoming sight of tables with chessboards set up and screens that would show the games. It seemed like many people paid the admission price with the sole intention of playing blitz at the tables all day. Chess guys gonna chess. I played one very sloppy Maroczy Bind and one Polerio Defense, in which both my opponents and I blundered multiple pieces. Escaping with an even score, I decided I would rather take in the atmosphere and watch the real games. One can play bad chess against bad opponents any time, but the point of this thing for me was to watch and hopefully meet a few of the big boys and gals. 

My first opportunity came after overhearing GM Aman Hambleton – one of our strongest homegrown Canadian players – discussing the games near the screen array. Aman was an incredibly friendly and relaxed guy. It turns out that he is buds with one of my nemeses, Dustin K., and we talked a bit about the famous games of Dustin and I, as well as the former’s legendary chessboxing match with my old chess buddy Mike of Edmonton (skip to 2:31:40). I saw WGM Gulrukhbegim Tokhirjonova from St. Louis conducting some interviews with child fans, but I was a bit too sheepish at this point to approach her, and I lost the opportunity. A bit later on I met GM Aryan Tari, the guy from Norway not named Carlsen most likely to beat your ass at chess. Aryan was also a very warm, welcoming guy and was impressed by the length of my journey. I got to watch him school some fools in blitz, which was enjoyable in a cruel sort of way.  

As far as the games go, I was most fascinated by GM Praggnanandhaa Rameshbabu’s game with GM Gukesh Dommaraju, in which the former sacrificed two pawns for a massive initiative and attack on the Black king. Amazingly, Gukesh parried his opponent’s attack, and despite remaining in passive defense mode for most of the game, ultimately consolidated and won with his extra material. I won’t pretend I can offer any meaningful analysis of this game, but I recommend all chess fans check it out. The balcony access was probably the highlight of the day, as I could watch the players in action and witness 7/8 games reach their conclusion. Due to my poor eyesight I could only focus on the two games closest to me, GM Humpy Koneru vs. GM Katerina Lagno and GM Fabiano Caruana vs. GM Nijat Abasov. The former was already a dry ending by the time I was up there, but the latter was one of four (!) decisive games in the Open section that day. Unprecedented results. A great day to be a chess fan. If you watch the Chess.com stream for Day 2, you can see me in the blue hoodie toward the latter half of the broadcast, when Hikaru and Fabi are on camera, craning my neck on the balcony for a better view. 

Fabi was kind enough to come down to the fan zone after his win to answer a few questions and sign autographs. I was on the wrong side of the room, so I couldn’t get near.

The admission process was no more fun on Day 3 of the Candidates, but I did get a pleasant surprise when Gukesh hurried past the expectant queue with his seconds. I seemed to be the only one who spotted him, or else other fans felt similarly and didn’t want to disturb him at such a moment. After the event there was a big crowd of autograph-seekers near the players’ entrance, but I didn’t feel like joining them. Chess paparazzi, what! 

The fan zone setup on Day 3 was much tighter than the previous day. GM Eric Hansen, a one-time denizen of Calgary, AB, was on hand along with Aryan to provide live commentary, complete with microphones and control over the analysis board. I got a kick out of the fact that they used Lichess, which caused some saltiness on the part of Chess.com reporter Mike Klein in an interview I watched afterward. I was able to meet Eric as well, and he indulged me in a little chat about my trip and his recent team chess battle alongside GM Jorden van Foreest. Several times they asked for questions, and I seemed to be one of the more vocal audience members on this particular day, receiving the perhaps affectionate epithet “Steve from Alberta” for my efforts. I got some interesting perspectives from the resident GMs on tournament strategy and alternative moves in Pragg’s game. Later on I saw GM Ivan Cheporinov of Bulgaria hanging out and watching the game of his pupil, WGM and IM Nurgyul Salimova. Chepo was surprised to be recognized but was kind enough to pose for a photo. He was spotted again by a young fan, who also got the autograph of another player I didn’t recognize, so I was not the best GM spotter on site that day. 

I was once again immediately drawn to Pragg’s game, in which he uncorked the very unusual and provocative deferred Schliemann or Jaenisch line in the Spanish against GM Vidit Gujrathi. I had never seen this opening played prior to the event at any level. Why did Pragg feel it was necessary to do this? I guess his defeat on Day 2 got his blood up, as he won the game in spectacular fashion. Gukesh came down to the fan zone after his game, and I got in an awkwardly worded question about his ability to continue playing good moves under clock and board pressure. It came out something like, “How do you stay calm?” to which he responded, “I don’t feel calm.” Fair enough. Gukesh was also kind enough to sign my little souvenir postcard. 

I was interviewed twice, once by the CCSC of St. Louis and once by WIM Charlize van Zyl for FIDE. Much to my shame, I didn’t know at the time that she was a master in her own right, in addition to being the FIDE reporter for the event, so I didn’t get a photo with her. I’m quite behind on watching the streams since I returned, so I don’t know if my remarks actually made the final cut on any of the official broadcasts. I was asked the usual things: who I was supporting, who I thought would win, what the fan zone experience was like, etc. I decided to come out in support of Pragg and newly-minted GM Vaishali, as I think it would be cool for the Rameshbabu brother-sister combo to challenge for both world titles simultaneously. My official prediction, though, could be none other than famous horse tamer (skip to 4:53) and two-time Challenger GM Ian Nepomniachtchi in the Open section. I didn’t feel knowledgeable enough to pick the winner in the Women’s section, so I demurred. Charlize, like most, seemed surprised at the rather extreme method by which I chose to enjoy the Candidates, but hey, she did come all the way from South Africa and had to leave her own national championship to attend. We all love the game here.

Much to my chagrin, I missed my time slot to visit the balcony as I had to leave for the show, which was located at the other end of downtown Toronto. There turned out to be no games remaining for spectators to watch in the final time slot anyway, so FIDE and the Annex Chess Club of Toronto were kind enough to give everyone a make-up time slot on some other day of the tournament. Very generous, but as a non-local it did me no good. I might have considered staying another day if I could have made it up on Sunday, but I was already well underway before receiving the email. 

“Extreme music and chess make a very strange Venn diagram,” observed Jen, my neighbour in the next seat. The show was held at a historic Anglican church adjoining the Eaton Center. Not much to look at from the outside but possessing an austere beauty within. The north side was given over to a large homeless camp, while slogans of social justice announced themselves from posters and signs. It seemed like an appropriate venue for the Reverend Kristin's message. The show itself was intense in a subdued sort of way, more of a sit down and listen raptly than a get up and shake your ass affair, as I’m more used to.  I was getting in some pretty good practice being sociable with my neighbours, but when the Reverend took the stage we hushed up quickly. I was half expecting a full-on Revivalist meeting, complete with baptism and sermon of brimstone, but this was the artist alone at her piano, which she meticulously prepared with chains and bells. “How to make a $30,000 grand piano sound like a $30 banjo,” observed someone nearby. She did “All of My Friends are Going to Hell’ at about double-time and I very briefly got the impression she didn’t really want to be there. That changed as the set progressed, though, and she did a healthy number of gospel standards along with the album tracks as we all sat spellbound by that majestic, powerful, awful voice, full of celestial aspirations and emotional devastation. This music is not for everyone, but it’s where I’m at these days. She closed with “I Will Be With You Always,” probably the song I can relate to most strongly from her new repertoire.

In spite of my friendly outreach attempts, it was another evening solo for this lone coyote. I headed back to my hotel, preoccupied with thoughts of chess and Salvation, mixed with familiar feelings of loneliness and ennui and the growing pain in my feet and knees from forcing my out-of-shape corpse to walk a marathon over the past two days. I don’t know how much this trip helped. I don’t feel like I freed my mind the way I wanted to, but I don’t exactly regret it either. I witnessed some things worth seeing and survived the ordeal to boot. Can’t ask for much more than that, now can you?