Gukesh Dommeraju Becomes the 18th World Chess Champion After Capitalizing on Ding Liren's Game 14 Blunder

"I might smile, but I ain't no joke."--Dilated Peoples, "Kindness for Weakness" 

By defeating Ding Liren in game 14 of the World Chess Championship, Gukesh Dommeraju not only became the 18th World Chess Champion, but at age 18 he also became the youngest World Chess Champion ever, surpassing the record held by Garry Kasparov, who was 22 when he became World Chess Champion in 1985. Magnus Carlsen, who relinquished the title in 2023 by declining to play in the World Chess Championship but is still the world's highest rated chess player, was also 22--but a few months older than Kasparov was in 1985--when he first became World Chess Champion in 2013.

With the match tied 6.5-6.5, Ding had the advantage of playing White, and he only needed a draw to send the match to Rapid tiebreaks, which favored him on paper since his Rapid rating is much higher than Gukesh's Rapid rating. The players reached a position in which Gukesh enjoyed a one Pawn advantage, but the game was well within the drawing zone with correct play before Ding--behind on the clock as he was during most of the match--hastily blundered away the game and the match by playing a move that enabled Gukesh to trade off the remaining pieces; this transformed the position into a pure King and Pawn ending that Gukesh could win by force. At first it seemed that Gukesh may not have realized that Ding had blundered, but soon Gukesh's eyes widened and he struggled to keep a straight face. Gukesh's reaction tipped Ding off, Ding put his head in his hands in pure anguish, and after Gukesh played the correct trading sequence Ding extended his hand to resign the game and the match.

One of the basic endgame principles generally known by strong players--even ones who are well below the Grandmaster level--is to not trade into a pure King and Pawn ending unless you have calculated the ensuing moves all the way to the desired result (win or draw, depending on whether you are ahead or behind), because King and Pawn endings are a matter of strict counting, not instinct. Ding violated this fundamental principle, and as a result he lost the game and the crown.

Ding joins a long, distinguished list of great players who made ghastly blunders, a list that includes other World Chess Champions. It is difficult for a non-chess player to understand how a world class player can make a seemingly obvious error, but it is important to realize the high stress level of chess competition--or, to put it in cruder terms, "Pressure busts pipes." It is a mistake to think of chess as just another board game. Chess is not only a sport, but it is a grueling, violent sport, increasingly dominated by young players who have the necessary mental, emotional, and physical strength to prevail under the sport's challenging conditions.

Gukesh's win exemplifies two significant demographic shifts that have happened in chess: the best players are getting younger and younger, and Asian countries--most notably India and China--have emerged as dominant forces. As noted above, Gukesh is by far the youngest World Chess Champion ever, breaking a record that had stood for more than twice as long as he has been alive, and this is just the latest example of the extent to which young players have become dominant in chess. Regarding the rising fortunes of Asian countries in chess, consider that in the 1970s it was headline news when an Asian player won a game against a Grandmaster; at that time it would have been difficult to conceive of a World Chess Championship match featuring one Asian player--let alone two--but now Gukesh is the second Indian player to win the World Chess Championship, following in the footsteps of his hero and mentor Viswanathan Anand.

As recently as two years ago, it would not have seemed likely that either Ding or Gukesh would become World Champion in the near future, because Carlsen was dominant (as he continues to be whenever he chooses to play). Ding was considered by some to be a potential challenger, but if Carlsen had not resigned the title then Carlsen would have faced Ian Nepomniachtchi in 2023; however, Carlsen had already beaten Nepomniachtchi 7.5-3.5 in the 2021 World Chess Championship, and Carlsen decided that spending several months to prepare for a World Chess Championship match is less fun than playing in various big money tournaments around the world. After Carlsen dropped out, Ding--who had finished second to Nepomniachtchi in the 2022 Candidates Tournament--took his spot, and then Ding became World Chess Champion in 2023 by defeating Nepomniachtchi 2.5-1.5 in the Rapid Tiebreak after the players tied 7-7 in the Classical portion of the match. Gukesh earned the right to challenge Ding in the 2024 World Chess Championship by winning the next Candidates Tournament with a score of 9/14, finishing a half point ahead of Hikaru Nakamura, Ian Nepomniachtchi, and Fabiano Caruana.

After a tough year during which Ding struggled to regain top form, he fought hard versus Gukesh from beginning to end--stunning observers by winning game one after not winning a Classical game in the previous 304 days, and then bouncing back to win game 12 to tie the match after losing game 11--but in the end Gukesh's energy and fighting spirit proved to be too much; throughout the match, Gukesh pressed on in positions where other players might just accede to a draw, and that willingness to fight for every inch--reminiscent of Bobby Fischer's attitude that the game is not a draw until he says so--wore Ding down.

Ding and Gukesh both have unassuming demeanors, and that makes it easy to underestimate them, as the stereotype is that a champion athlete is bold and brash. Media commentators are particularly fond of doing armchair psychoanalysis of Ding's body language, and Ding contributes to this by being so brutally honest about how he feels at any given moment. What commentators seem to miss or misunderstand is that for a mentally strong person it is possible to feel devastated for a moment but then resiliently bounce back. Ding lost game 2 in last year's World Chess Championship match, looked devastated afterward, trailed for most of the match--and then won game 12 en route to eventually claiming the title. This time, he lost game 11, looked devastated afterward, and then bounced back to win game 12 before drawing game 13 and falling just short in game 14. 

Gukesh has a quiet but fierce determination. His playing style is similar to Carlsen's in the sense that both players--to use a tennis analogy--keep hitting the ball over the net until their opponent falters and misses a shot; it is not necessary to hit the ball spectacularly, but just to hit it well enough that the opponent is forced to make a return shot. It will be interesting to watch Gukesh continue to develop as a player--he is likely not even close to his prime yet--and it will be fascinating to see how long he reigns as World Chess Champion. Emanuel Lasker held the World Chess Champion title for a record 27 years (1894-1921), but in his era there was not a regular cycle of World Chess Championship matches; he successfully defended his title five times before losing to Jose Raul Capablanca; unless the current rules change, Gukesh will have to defend his title every other year, meaning that a 27 year reign would require at least 13 successful title defenses. Carlsen defended his title in five matches without a defeat before voluntarily relinquishing the crown without a fight, while Kasparov--the longest reigning champion of modern times--defended his title in five matches and reigned for 15 years before losing to Vladimir Kramnik in 2000.

The 2024 World Chess Championship match featured a lot of fighting chess and was not just a parade of colorless draws. The most disappointing thing was the nature and quality of some of the questions asked in the post-game press conferences. During the Ding-Nepomniachtchi match, I wondered Why Do People Who Ask Idiotic Questions Receive Media Credentials?, and during this match it was disappointing to once again see Mike Klein at every post-game press conference asking questions that made little sense and had little relevance. With the match tied 6-6, Klein asked both players who has the momentum; momentum is something for commentators to speculate about--often incorrectly--not something to ask a player about in the middle of a competition. After the exciting game 13 draw, Klein asked a rambling question about how quickly Gukesh walked into the playing hall prior to the game, as if there is some brilliant insight to be gained by how fast a player is walking. In The Image: A Guide to Pseudoevents in America, Daniel Boorstin lamented that the role of news reporters shifted from covering significant events that happened to trying to create excitement out of nothing: "If he cannot find a story, then he must make one--by the questions he asks of public figures, by the surprising human interest he unfolds from some commonplace event, or by 'the news behind the news.'" That is a perfect description of what Klein and far too many credentialed media members do. I am a writer and not a video creator, but someone needs to give Klein the Mark Schwartz treatment, as I suggested last year in Dreaming of Becoming a Journalist Covering the World Chess Championship.

I hope that the next World Chess Championship features fighting chess--and better post-game questions.

Dick Allen and Dave Parker Receive Long-Overdue Hall of Fame Recognition

A toxic combination of PED cheating destroying MLB's once-hallowed record book and "stat gurus" preaching "analytics" above all else (while cheating to win World Series titles because, apparently, the "analytics" did not provide a sufficient advantage) not only took much of the enjoyment out of baseball during the past 30 years or so, but also resulted in many great players not receiving deserved Hall of Fame recognition. In earlier eras, a 30 home run season meant something, and a 300 home run career signified a decade or more of top level power production; it is unfair to compare numbers from different eras when making Hall of Fame selections: if you dominated your era, then you earned Hall of Fame status--period.

I am so happy to learn that Dick Allen and Dave Parker, two of the most outstanding players of their respective eras, will be part of the Baseball Hall of Fame's 2025 class. The 16-member Classic Era Committee (formerly known as the Veterans Committee) righted two wrongs by finally selecting Allen and Parker. Allen received 13 votes, while Parker received 14, with 12 votes being the minimum threshold for selection. The Classic Era Committee consists of six Hall of Fame players (Paul Molitor, Eddie Murray, Tony Pérez, Ozzie Smith, Lee Smith, and Joe Torre), five former MLB executives (Sandy Alderson, Terry McGuirk, Dayton Moore, Arte Moreno and Brian Sabean), and five media members/historians (Bob Elliot, Leslie Heaphy, Steve Hirdt, Dick Kaegel and Larry Lester). The Classic Era Committee is tasked with recognizing players whose prime years happened prior to 1980.

Seven-time All-Star Dick Allen posted a .292 career batting average while blasting 351 homers and slugging 1119 RBI. He won the 1964 NL Rookie of the Year award for the Philadelphia Phillies after logging one of the greatest debut seasons in MLB history, leading the league in runs (125), triples (13), extra base hits (80), and total bases (352) while also ranking third in slugging percentage (.557), third in hits (201), fourth in doubles (38), and fifth in batting average (.318). He ranked seventh in home runs (29), and Allen hit at least 20 home runs in each of his first nine seasons, peaking at 40 in 1966 (ranking second in the NL), and cranking at least 30 in five of those seasons (and six times overall during his career). Allen finished seventh in 1964 NL MVP voting but, inexplicably, did not make the All-Star team.

In 1965, Allen earned the first of three consecutive All-Star selections while posting the second of four consecutive seasons during which he hit at least .300. Allen never topped his rookie season batting average, but he hit .300 or better in six of the 11 seasons during which he played in at least 118 games. Allen led the NL in slugging percentage in 1966 with a career-high .632, and that season he also led the NL in extra base hits (75).

After two productive but non All-Star seasons in 1968-69, the Phillies traded Allen to St. Louis, where he regained All-Star status in 1970 while pounding 34 home runs (tied for seventh in the NL) and notching the second of his three 100 RBI seasons (101).

The Cardinals traded Allen to the L.A. Dodgers prior to the 1971 season. He had a solid one year stint with the Dodgers (.295 batting average/23 home runs/90 RBI) before being traded to the Chicago White Sox. In his first White Sox season, Allen won the 1972 AL regular season MVP in a landslide, setting a franchise single season record (since broken) with 37 home runs while setting career highs in RBI (113) and BB (99); he led the AL in all three categories, and he also led the AL in OBP (career-high .420), extra base hits (70), and slugging percentage (.603). Injuries limited him to 82 games in 1973, but he still made the All-Star team, and he earned a third straight All-Star selection in 1974 while leading the AL in home runs (32) and slugging percentage (.563). After Allen left the team late in the 1974 season, the White Sox sold his contract to the Atlanta Braves, but he retired rather than go to Atlanta. He returned to the Phillies in 1975, and then finished his career in 1977 with the Oakland A's. 

Despite Allen's decade of sustained high level production--numbers that are even more impressive considering that he played during an era dominated by pitching--Allen never came close to getting in the Hall of Fame via the media voting, and he missed out in the Classic Era Committee balloting by just one vote in 2015 and 2022.

Some argue that "analytics" bolstered Allen's Hall of Fame candidacy in the most recent round of voting, but the fact is that even the often derided "counting stats" show Allen's brilliance: from 1964-74, he ranked second in MLB in slugging percentage, fifth in home runs (trailing only Hall of Famers Hank Aaron, Harmon Killebrew, Willie Stargell, and Willie McCovey), seventh in RBI, and seventh in runs scored.

There is no doubt that Allen suffered in Hall of Fame balloting because he clashed with various writers and front office executives during his career. He was outspoken, a quality that was not well-received from athletes during that era--and particularly so regarding Black athletes. It should be noted that the Philadelphia Phillies were the last NL team to have Black players on their roster, finally doing so in 1957--a full 10 years after Jackie Robinson broke MLB's color barrier. The toxic racial climate in Philadelphia specifically and in MLB as a whole is an undercurrent--and sometimes more than just an undercurrent--flowing through Allen's career. It is a shame that he passed away in 2020 without receiving his deserved Hall of Fame induction.

Willie Stargell summarized Allen's career and legacy: "Dick Allen played the game in the most conservative era in baseball history. It was a time of change and protest in the country, and baseball reacted against all that. They saw it as a threat to the game. The sportswriters were reactionary too. They didn't like seeing a man of such extraordinary skills doing it his way. It made them nervous. Dick Allen was ahead of his time. His views and way of doing things would go unnoticed today. If I had been manager of the Phillies back when he was playing, I would have found a way to make Dick Allen comfortable. I would have told him to blow off the writers. It was my observation that when Dick Allen was comfortable, balls left the park."

In a 2014 interview with USA Today, Hall of Fame pitcher Rich "Goose" Gossage gushed about his former teammate Allen: "I've been around the game a long time, and he's the greatest player I've ever seen play in my life. He had the most amazing season (1972) I've ever seen. He's the smartest baseball man I've ever been around in my life. He taught me how to pitch from a hitter's perspective, and taught me how to play the game right. There's no telling the numbers this guy could have put up if all he worried about was stats. The guy belongs in the Hall of Fame."

Allen's career ended when I was just five years old, so I don't remember seeing him play, and thus I don't have any personal recollections to add to this tribute--but anyone who studies baseball history understands Allen's impact and value, and thus knows that it is a travesty that he did not make it to the Hall of Fame until nearly 50 years after he retired.

I have vivid memories of Dave Parker, the 6-5, 230 superstar who could do it all. He was built like a tight end before steroids ran rampant through MLB, he was fast during his early years, and he used his powerful upper body to good effect both at the plate and in the outfield. I remember him starring for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1970s before joining the Cincinnati Reds, my favorite baseball team in the 1970s and 1980s when I followed baseball as a kid much more closely than I follow it now. Parker teamed up with Eric Davis in a dynamic outfield for the Reds for teams managed by Pete Rose that finished second in the N.L. West for three straight seasons (1985-87; the Reds also finished second in 1988, by which time Parker played for the Oakland A's). The "Cobra" was a sight to behold, and no one who saw Parker play doubted for a second that he was a Hall of Famer. Parker, like many players of that era, had a cocaine problem in the 1980s, and Hall of Fame voters seem to be more forgiving of some players than others regarding such issues.

Parker once declared, "I was a five tool player." As the saying goes, it's not bragging if you can back it up--and Parker backed it up during his career, particularly during the five season stretch from 1975-79. In Parker's first full MLB season, 1975, he led the NL in slugging percentage (.541), placed second in triples (10), ranked fifth in home runs (25) and RBI (101), and finished third in MVP voting. 

In 1976, Parker ranked third in triples (10), seventh in RBI (90), and eighth in batting average (.313), but he only hit 13 home runs. Parker showed surprising speed considering his size, stealing 19 bases, and he ranked fourth in outfield assists (12).

Parker won the NL batting title in 1977 (.338) and 1978 (.334) despite suffering a fractured jaw and cheekbone during the 1978 season. In 1977, Parker earned the first of five straight All-Star selections, and he captured the first of three straight Gold Glove awards while leading the NL in hits (215), doubles (44), and outfield assists (26). Parker ranked second in the NL in RBI (117), second in triples (12), and third in home runs (30) in 1978. He also stole 20 bases, and he won the NL regular season MVP.

He was an integral player for the Pirates' 1979 "We Are Family" World Series championship team, finishing seventh in the NL in batting average (.310) and eighth in RBI (94). Parker tied his career high with 20 stolen bases, and he ranked third in the NL in stolen base percentage (.833). Parker led the Pirates in RBI, ranked second on the team in batting average, home runs (25), and slugging percentage (.526), and ranked third on the team in stolen bases. Parker ranked fourth in the NL in outfield assists in 1979. Perhaps the most famous demonstration of Parker's bazooka arm happened in the 1979 All-Star Game, when he threw out a runner at third base and threw out another runner at home plate en route to winning the All-Star Game MVP in a 7-6 NL win. In the 1979 playoffs, Parker tied for second on the team in RBI (six) and he ranked third on the team in batting average (.341) as he captured the first of his two World Series titles while helping the Pirates win their first championship since 1971.

Parker made the All-Star team in 1980 and 1981, but he did not play at an MVP level during those seasons. Nevertheless, in 1981, baseball historians Donald Honig and Lawrence Ritter already ranked Parker among the 100 greatest baseball players of all-time. 

After Parker had subpar seasons in 1982 and 1983, he signed a free agent contract with the Cincinnati Reds prior to the 1984 season. Parker revived his career with his hometown team, averaging 27 home runs and 110 RBI during his four seasons with the Reds. In 1985, Parker led the NL in RBI (career-high 125) while ranking fifth in batting average (.312), his first .300 season since 1979. He ranked second in the NL in home runs in both 1985 (career-high 34) and 1986 (31). Parker earned All-Star selections in 1985 and 1986, finishing second in NL MVP voting in 1985 and fifth in 1986.

The Reds traded Parker to the Oakland A's after the 1987 season. Parker helped the A's to reach the World Series in 1988 and 1989, and he hit three home runs in the 1989 postseason as the A's won their first championship since 1974. In 1989, Parker led the team in RBI (97, ninth in the AL), ranked second in home runs (22), and finished 11th in AL regular season MVP voting, establishing himself as a premier designated hitter.

The 38 year old Parker signed with the Milwaukee Brewers as a free agent prior to the 1990 season, and in 1990 he earned his final All-Star selection, ranking seventh in the AL in RBI (92). Milwaukee traded Parker to the California Angels in 1991 but the Angels released him after he hit just .232 in 119 games. He ended his career in 1991 by playing 13 games with the Toronto Blue Jays.

Parker finished his career with 2712 hits, 339 home runs, a .290 batting average, 1493 RBI, 154 stolen bases, and 152 assists (including 136 as a right fielder, which still ranks 25th all-time). In addition to winning the 1978 NL regular season MVP, Parker finished in the top five in MVP voting four other times (1975, 1977, 1985-86), earned three Silver Slugger awards (NL outfielder in 1985-86, AL designated hitter in 1990), and was twice honored with the Edgar Martinez award as the best designated hitter (1989-90).