The ghost of E. J. Diemer gives a twenty board simultaneous on Christmas eve...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hall
The chessplayers were stirring, like a woodpushers' ball;
The pieces were hung on the demo with care,
In hopes that E. J. soon would be there;
The patzers were huddled in clusters of nulls,
While visions of checkmates danced in their skulls;
I'd poured me a Becks, got a plate full of vittles,
And just settled down to a few rounds of skittles,
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I lurched from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The neon on garbage in the dumpster below
Gave a luster of midday like lights on real snow,
When, what to my wondering eyeballs appears,
But a long black Mercedes and eight gambiteers,
With a little old driver, so clearly a schemer,
I knew in a moment it had to be Diemer.
More cocky than masters his cohorts they came,
And he chuckled and chortled and called them by name;
Come, Bachl! Come, Freidl! Come Studier and Soller!
On Kampars! On Tejler! On, Danner and Müller!
To the top of the steps! To the door of the hall!
Now sacrifice! Sacrifice! Sacrifice all!
Like passed pawns with a lust to expand,
They dashed up the steps, this merry little band;
So up to the doorway his cohorts they flew,
With bags full of chessmen, and Emil Joseph too.
And then in a twinkling I heard in the wings
A clipping and clopping like toppling Kings.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Through the front door Diemer burst with a bound.
He was clad all in black, from his toes to his cheeks,
And his clothes were wrinkled like he'd worn them for weeks;
A bundle of score sheets he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a TD just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they burned! His brows, how hairy!
His cheeks were like granite, his countenance scary!
His long thin mouth was turned down like a bow,
And his beard was gray--cold ashes in snow.
The stub of a pencil he held in his teeth tightly,
And the graphite like smoke discolored them slightly;
He had thick, tinted glasses and eyes of slate
That stung when they hit you, like a back rank mate;
He was lean and mean, a formidable sight,
And I shuddered when I saw him--he gave me a fright;
The gleam in his eyes and the tension in the air,
Soon gave me to know I hadn't a prayer.
He spoke not a word, but went straightaway to it,
Twenty games, twenty gambits, twenty wins 'fore you knew it;
Then, extracting a rag and blowing his nose,
And giving a snort; out the doorway he goes.
He sprang to his limo, to his gang gave a yell,
And away they all roared like bats out of hell.
But I heard him exclaim ere he faded from view,
"Blackmar-Diemer forever! (and Happy Christmas, too)."
I first became aware of Hugh and his unorthodox openings and original opinions (or was that original openings and unorthodox opinions) after I came across the original (1973) edition of his book, The Nimzovich Defense, which I found in, of all places, Rudi Schmaus's bookshop in Heidelberg. That would have been about 1978 or '79. Schmaus was the publisher of the Das Moderne Blackmar-Diemer Gambit series, which included a reprint of Diemer's original Vom Ersten Zug an auf Matt! as well as two books by Freidl and one by Studier. At the time Freidl's Band 2 was due out shortly, and I would drive over to Heidelberg now and then to check on it (or really just to browse through a collection of chess books). A few years ago I decided I was through with this foolish game and sold my copy of that book. Shortsighted, I know.
But I digress. In his Nimzovich book Hugh included a game or two that transposed into a BDG. That was enough impetus for me to get in touch with him and subscribe to his The Myers Openings Bulletin. Later, when Charles Szasz and I started a little publication for Blackmar-Diemer Gambit aficionados, Hugh was very supportive, and over the years we kept in touch with an occasional letter or note. I never had the pleasure of meeting him face-to-face, but now and then he had a comment on something I published, and he wrote a short piece for at least one issue of BDG WORLD.
I mentioned to Tom Purser that I was playing Bloodgood. Tom inquired about the famous Humphrey Bogart game via 1.d4 Nf6 2.g4. Bloodgood told me that it had been published. Our games ended with three draws and one Bloodgood win. We said our good-byes and I figured I'd never hear from him again. Then there comes this fascinating note from which I quote:
Dear Tim,
You asked me about the Bogart Poisoned Spike Game some time ago. I mentioned that it had been published. It was originally published in the New York Daily News circa 1935, later in the New York Times.
I first became aware of it when Bogart visited the U.S. Naval Hospital at Camp Pendleton (Calif.) in late 1955. I was playing chess when he and several other Hollywood actors arrived on the ward where I was recovering from foot surgery. He watched me play for a while and then discovered I was playing for money. He got a great big grin and asked if I'd care to play him for a small wager. The games were blitz (no scores), but he held his own (I think we broke even after 8 games) and gave me a phone number to call him when I could get out of the hospital for a day or so.
When I called, I got someone else, but arrangements were in place and a car was sent for me. I played Bogart (and some others) at beach houses in Santa Monica one time and Van Nuys several times. Bogart took real pride in his chess ability and was a born hustler. I am enclosing two Bogart games (1 against me) which I hope you will find interesting. Same opening line in Bloodgood-Lowmaster also enclosed...
Best, Claude
Here are the games he sent in what Bloodgood calls the "Maltese Falcon Attack," clearly a cousin of the BDG:
2359 / Dutch Defense
Humphrey Bogart
Claude Bloodgood
Santa Monica 1955
1. d4 f5 2. Nf3 e6 3. e4 fxe4 4. Ng5 d5 5. f3 exf3 6. Qxf3 Nf6 7. Bd3 g6 8. Nxh7 Rxh7 9. Bxg6+ Rf7 10. 0-0 Bg7 11. Bg5 Nbd7
11. .. Kf8 12. Bxf7 Kxf7 13. Qh5+ Kg8 14. Bxf6 Bxf6 15. Qg6+ Bg7 16. Rf7 1-0. Claude Bloodgood - Robert Lowmaster, Camp McGill, Japan 1956 (Game 2360).
12. Nc3 Kf8 13. Bxf7 Kxf7 14. Rae1 c5 15. Nxd5 exd5 16. Qxd5+ Kg6
16. .. Kf8 17. Qd6+ Kg8 18. Re7 Ne8 19. Qe6+ Kh8 20. Rxg7 1-0. Humphrey Bogart - NN, Santa Monica 1955, (Game 2361)
17. Bxf6 Bxf6 18. Re6 Qh8 19. Qf5+ Kf7 20. d5 Qh4 21. c3 Qg5 22. Qh7+ Qg723. R1xf6+ Nxf6 24. Re7+ Kxe7 25. Qxg7+ Kd6 26. Qxf6+ Kxd5 27. Qd8+ 1-0.
As for my experiments in the Grob, I scored quite well as White (78%, same as with the BDG), and better that I deserved. I won one section that Bloodgood did not enter. I also managed a couple draws versus strong postal players in other events, such as BDGer Tim Just and author Roy DeVault. Alas, my Grob games were very ugly; my wins were not completely deserved. I won nine games when my opponents either set their board up wrong, or had severe health problems, or they just quit. Two players gave me a draw when I was losing. My assessment of 1.g4 opening theory is that both sides are lost. I have gone back to playing 1.d4!
This article originally appeared in BDG World 77
