Sleeping pills, thrills and a new king: the inside story of the World Chess Championship
The king is dead. Long live the Ding.
Chess has a new world champion, Ding Liren from China. And the day after his thrilling victory against the Russian player Ian Nepomniachtchi, he is sitting talking to the Guardian, energy spent after a 24-day, 18-game marathon soaked in tension and wild momentum swings. It turns out Ding has a nickname, Silent Storm, and it is as well judged as his final moves in the match. “Well, I am quiet,” he says, his voice rising barely above a whisper. “But then over the board …”
Thunder on the board, drama off it. That was the story of this world championship, which came about after Magnus Carlsen decided to abdicate his throne and ended with Ding as the 17th classical chess world champion in history.
Some of what played out in Astana is well known: the fact Ding admitted he was depressed after the first game, recovered, and then entered another dip after having his opening preparation leaked. But not everything.
Just 24 hours after his defeat, Nepomniachtchi reveals how disaster struck him on the eve of Sunday’s crucial tiebreak, after the classical chess part of the match finished in a 7-7 draw.
The Russian endured major sleep problems during his unsuccessful attempt to beat Carlsen in 2021, so he had come to Astana prepared. “I had some medicine to make sure I can fall asleep. And at 1am I found it had vanished. I guess the lady who cleaned the room, just …”
He stops. “It was also sort of a lottery because there were three or four different pills. But the priceless one was just gone. It was sort of unlucky, I guess. I really hope it was a coincidence. Otherwise …”
Whether it was espionage or an honest mistake, the result was Nepomniachtchi couldn’t doze off. “I’d say I managed to switch off from 10am to midday. The problem is that it was the second night that I didn’t sleep well because obviously I was very excited before the very last round of the classical game. But at least with the first night it was a few hours combined, so that was something.”
“Nepo” is not looking for excuses. He is generous in his praise for his opponent, and honest about his own failure to put his opponent away having led three times in the match. But he can’t help wondering if it made a difference in the last of four rapid tie-breaks.
Incredibly Ding had not led during the match. But at the death, he took advantage of Nepomniachtchi’s lethal mistake to force his opponent to resign after 68 moves. One move in that game, 46 … Rg6, has already entered
into chess lore. Most commentators expected Ding to play for a forced draw, especially as he had been on the defensive. Instead he risked everything by dangerously pinning his king to his rook on h7. It was a decision that only ratcheted up the nerves and tension.
Ding is asked what was going through his mind. “Nothing, nothing,” he replies. “I saw Rg6 was the best move in the position.” Were you nervous at all? “No, no.” Why not? “Well, I just think I need to focus on the game. I need to at least hold the game.”
Nepomniachtchi remembers it differently, especially earlier on. “He was shaking his hand in desperation, but once again, as bad as it looked for him, it was never close to over,” he says. “It was quite astonishing to check it later with a computer. The position looks completely ugly. But there’s always some salvation. When I played Rg6 I wanted to punish him for this move but then allowed him to play c4, which is a blunder.”
Soon afterwards Ding was proclaimed world champion. Twenty-four hours on he is clearly still trying to process it. “It’s already changed my life. Because now I have play for two more years.”
It is hardly a bombastic response, but then Ding is known for being gentle and humble. “Maybe people don’t know me so well. Even I don’t know me.”
Ding is a man of few words, but clearly possesses remarkable skills of calculation and recovery. In the embryonic stages of this world championship match, his mental state was twitchy and the quality of his play poor.
Having moved out of the St Regis hotel before the first game, because he was unhappy with his room, he then confessed to being “a bit depressed” after a fortunate draw in the opening game, adding that there “might be something wrong with my mind” due to the pressure of the match.
When Ding was crushed with the white pieces in the second game, a photo of him in his rest area in an oversized hoodie went viral. In truth, he looked lost. And so, some speculated, was the match. “Of course I was worried,” he says. “It was the most difficult stage. But many people helped me to overcome the problem. And after that I felt much better.”
Ding held game three and managed to level the match at 2-2 when Nepomniachtchi blundered in game four. But the Russian continued to have the better chances, and when 6-5 ahead, should have put the match to bed in game 12 when he let a winning position slip after playing too quickly and then lost, allowing this opponent to level.
“It’s quite painful,” Nepomniachtchi says. “It’s not enough to be a good player and get good positions. You also have to strike and to deliver. It was unexpected to have such an early lead with such ease and also unexpected to see how underprepared he was, both just playing wise and mentally.
“But despite having no real ideas, or deep preparation, he managed to put up a fight. And I should give him very huge credit for that. In some games he was nearly on the ropes, but managed to play very precisely which saved him many points.”
So with Carlsen insisting he won’t return to try and win back his title, have we entered a new era of chess? Nepomniachtchi isn’t convinced. “I’m not a prophet, but I would like to see Ding playing better than he did here as a world champion,” he says.
Perhaps, but the chess world certainly feels a little different now. Carlsen was charismatic and cocky. Ding is humble, with a low profile – although being the first world champion from China could change that.
It perhaps summed Ding up that, at his moment of victory, he began to sob. “I couldn’t control my feelings,” he says. After everything he had gone through, could you blame him?