Yeah, the Bermuda Party. Here you can find the essential information and tweets about this raving party in Tromsø! Scandals, sex, drugs, rock’n roll, girls, drunk chess players, fist fights….
Let’s ask Tarjei.
@TarjeiJS: “So a couple of scandals at the Bermuda party, but “what happens in Bermuda Party stays in Bermuda Party” – sorry guys 🙂
Damn. Ok, one tweet: @lladini: “This was, with little doubt, the worst Bermuda party ever. Still, it was better than the average party”.
Now that I got your attention, here is a little piece I wrote for the “A Tempo Magazine”. A Tempo is a chess magazine for music lovers, or, if you like, a music magazine for chess lovers. The magazine is a monthly collection of short stories, opinions, poems, bizarre brainwaves and jokes. Each issue is written around a theme in the area of chess and music. The editors Peter Boel, Martijn Boele and your blogger picked “Politics” as the subject of the latest issue and kept the upcoming FIDE elections in view.
The envelope and the orange cap
In the gigantic Oval Lingotto, a hall in Turin where a few months earlier the Winter Olympic skaters made their rounds, hundreds of Summer Olympic chess players play their games in a space that is
much too big. Young Magnus Carlsen represents his country for the first time, Vishy Anand represents his for the last time. The orange caps worn by various players catch the eye. The Football World
Championships are about to start in Germany, but not only the Dutch wear orange. On the garments the phrase ‘The Right Move’ can be read, which is the slogan of Bessel Kok’s campaign. In Turin he is
trying to become the President of the World Chess Federation. His opponent is the current office holder Kirsan Ilyumzhinov, who finally seems to be facing an opponent of stature.
In the receiving hall of the Oval the players can analyse, have a drink, kiebitz at the Computer Chess World Championship, or collect an orange cap from Bessel Kok’s team. Between the challenger’s election
stall and the slide presentation for the Olympiad in Tromsø 2014 is a small espresso bar with a number of tables. With a defiant look, a long, dark-haired man with an attaché-case and a large plastic bag comes shuffling along. He looks at Kok’s stand, shakes his head pityingly, smiles charmingly at the blonde promotion ladies from Norway, and finally sits down at an empty table with a deep sigh.
It doesn’t take long before he gets company. A welldressed, slightly elderly man, certainly not a chess player, grabs a chair and looks around somewhat nervously. Not a word is spoken. A glance is enough. The case is opened and a white envelope emerges.
After the delivery, the generous giver painstakingly ticks something on a paper sheet and takes a coffee mug and a silly little flag from his plastic bag. The envelope disappears in the visitor’s inside pocket. It
isn’t long before the next candidate sits down at the table, conspicuously inconspicuous. This procedure is repeated several times, until there are no more coffee mugs. When the job is done, the
representative orders an espresso, grins at the young Norwegian blondes one more time, and calmly strolls back to the playing room with his empty case. The plastic bag is carelessly thrown into a
Just a few days later, Kok loses the election contest without a chance, 96-54.