Bill Brydon describes his early path into the Xiangqi world. Why? Because the same path is open to others.
I learned Xiangqi in 1994, using a weak DOS-based game program given to me by a Vietnamese friend. I learned how the pieces moved by forcing the computer to move first, and imitating its moves. By the time I won my first game, I was reasonably comfortable with the Chinese characters.
Another Vietnamese friend, Kim Pham, wanted to play me. We did regular battle for 10 months, with me scoring a steady 30% to 40%. This surprised me: my skill was steadily rising, my score was not. Eventually I realized that Kim was revealing his full ability in slow phases, never saying a word about how avid he had once been. Lesson number one: expect discretion.
Kim had learned to play in Vietnam, and stopped after coming to Canada. His grandfather taught him early move sequences, and sent him to explore the game by himself. To Kim, this was like going out to explore life. He told me that young people like to attack, and the elderly prefer the endgame. I asked him to help me buy a book, and he chose a Vietnamese translation of a Ming Dynasty book about the openings that follow 1. C2=5 (Che3) C8=5 (Che8).
In the Spring of 1995, I wanted to know whether our games were anywhere near chess club level. Plucking up my nerve, I phoned Toronto Xiangqi Association president, Elton Yuen. A week later, I played in my first Toronto championship. This took place in a Taiwanese community centre near our downtown Chinatown (Toronto has about six Chinatowns). A crowd of players and spectators jammed themselves into one small room. Mahjong tiles clicked loudly across the hall. Onlookers crowded around me, talking continually in Cantonese. Later I learned that my elderly opponent was complaining about my slow rate of play. He eliminated me with a win and a draw. The onlookers told me I was winning the second game, and competed to show me seemingly incomprehensible technical finesses. Then Elton sat down, offered cautious praise, and asked if I'd like to go to Singapore in three months time. I managed to get out a yes, but only after pausing to pick up my jaw from the floor. Lesson number two: be prepared to move fast.
I left the building overwhelmed and exhilarated, as I have been by many Xiangqi experiences. And this one was not over. An elderly man was waiting for me in the yard. He introduced himself as "Ban LO", the 1993 Montreal champion. He asked me to visit him, and gave me a small piece of paper on which he had written his name, phone number, and address. I had not noticed him during play, but found out later he had won his games quickly. Months later, I was given a photo of the tournament, which showed him watching me from behind.
Kim and I visited Ban LO a few days later. We learned that he is ethnic Chinese, and was formerly one of Hanoi's "Five Tigers". He played both of us, and I asked him to train me for the Singapore World Cup in September. LO told me: "You're very weak. Only in the opening are you all right." After a few days, and a few more games, he altered this harsh judgement, saying: "Your opening is very weak".
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| Phuc NGUYEN |
Ban told Kim and I that the Toronto player he feared most was a little-known cafe player who was contesting the Toronto championship for the first time. He said that what distinguished Phuc NGUYEN was "strategy". Sure enough, Phuc surged through the field, and eliminated Ban in the semi-finals. He fell to Yu Ying HUANG in a dramatic final.
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| Yu Ying HUANG |
That summer, I spent all my free time on Ban LO's exercises. My head often ached at work. But my mind was blown by the game's beauties: lyrical attacks that come from three directions; cannon-driven tactics that submerge and erupt from different places; and, best of all, the controlled violence of long, slow, endgame mating attacks. The traditional studies had an unexpected side benefit. My power to visualize positions increased beyond anything I had ever experienced playing western chess. Lesson number three: obey your teacher.
A Master teaches Xiangqi
Ban LO likes complex chess positions, but
teaches using simple principles. |
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The Singapore World Cup was completely disorienting. I was an utter newcomer, in over my head, almost sick from nerves. Viewed from inside, the drama was almost too vivid to take in. I watched in wonderment as HUANG won the world women's championship, and as Ban battled exhaustion through the tournament's longest games. One of his wins came after 130 moves. He finished with 4.5 out of 9, and I with 3.5. I never could have come close to this without his help. Just over a year had passed since I had first learned the moves.
Ban LO has had many students. I am not the best, probably far from it. At the beginning, he had high hopes, predicting that in two years I would play like him. I warned him that I might be held back by age (I was 38) and modest talent. He almost blindly refused to listen, and has been disappointed by my error-strewn play many times since. He seems to accept that I will always be erratic, and we remain close friends.
Ban thinks students should test themselves against skilled players, and not spend too much time playing their friends. He has great skill in creating instructive situations. He likes to deliberately use old-fashioned or dubious opening moves, make defensive errors that permit dangerous attacks, and simplify from a winning middle game to a difficult end-game. In the early days, he sometimes lost on purpose to encourage me. He rarely admits to any of this. For a glimpse of his technical skill, read "Stakes Games from a Master’s Notebook".
At the 1999 Shanghai World Cup, I came in as something of a veteran. My roommate, Australia's Graham Jones, was at an even earlier phase than myself in 1995. Graham had received a few lessons from a strong elderly player from China. The veterans on the Australian team took over, and with calm patience, began teaching him Ming Dynasty theory. He used memorized sequences over and over again, and eventually won his first tournament game - a truly impressive effort.
The next World Cup is to be held in Paris in the later part of 2001. Expect a good turnout from European players. Any "non-Asian" player who hooks up with a World Xiangqi Federation club is likely to be invited. The WXF clubs are listed under "clubs" at the Xiangqi home page. Inquire to this site if you need help. As the next World Cup approaches, look for news in the Mindzine.
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