If I didn’t have bad luck I wouldn’t have any luck at all.

Not a month after I received my club-level tournament director certification, someone goes and claims a draw under the Insufficient Losing Chances rule (the much-debated USCF Rule 14H) at our club tournament. Some directors have been running tournaments ever since the USCF implemented this bizarre rule in 1993 and still haven’t had that situation come up, yet the bomb is dropped on me while still a fledgling TD working under instruction.

Fortunately for me, I didn’t suffer the repercussions of Lady Luck’s wrath alone. Since I was just the back-up TD assisting (read: learning how to do) the pairings, one of our more experience players was the head honcho for that month’s tournament and was the poor sap who had to make what turned out to be a very unpopular ruling. Before I go into all the dubious variations of personal behavior the application of 14H can result in and why I think it’s an absurd contradiction of the basic premise for timed play, let me enlighten you on exactly what this rule means and how it comes about.

The idea behind this rule is -  player ratings and time left on each player’s clock notwithstanding - that a Class ‘C’ player could reasonably draw the game in his position against a master given ample time. This situation arises when one player uses all but five minutes of his time in a sudden death time-control; he may then “offer” his opponent a draw if his position and/or material advantage is such that he would be unlikely to lose the game given sufficient time.

As is the case with most logic-impaired monopolies, the USCF fails to define what “ample” and “sufficient” time mean, which only further complicates the decision making process for the director. This, coupled with the fact that the strongest players available for position analysis were rated 1746 and 1640 (one of which was ineligible as he was the player claiming the draw), only served to enhance the skepticism of the opponent and incredulous spectators who had never heard of “Insufficient Losing Chances.” The problem, as argued by the irate player on the receiving end of this soup-sandwich, is that the rule doesn’t make sense - an obvious point which nobody present could easily refute. Here’s why:

In a sudden death game players are given so many minutes to make all their moves. If one player oversteps the time limit and, in the chess-geek vernacular, their flag falls, he or she loses. Period. End of story. This keeps games from becoming the 19th century sit-outs á la LaBourdonnais-McDonnell, 1834 or Staunton-St. Amant, 1843. As our bitter protagonist vehemently argued, clocks were introduced for a reason. If we rid ourselves of our only means of regulating the time period in which a game is to be played, we totally negate the purpose for which they were created. One can hardly dispute this flawless logic.

However, the upper echelon of the USCF, undoubtedly subsidized by the Politically Correct Commandos and the Liberal Ego-Protection Commission, decided that it just wasn’t fair for a player to lose a theoretically won game just because his time-management skills were substandard. So, utilizing their infinite wisdom, they created Rule 14H; a rule which has distinguished itself not only for it’s inequity, but also for it’s marked lack of any semblance of clarity. After all, it is at the sole discretion of the director whether to allow the draw or to make the player claiming the draw to play on, when sometimes the ruling director is rated a measly, patzer-esque 1200. (Don’t mind my blushing.)

Needless to say, we had quite a few unhappy campers that dramatic evening at the club. When the rule was presented in black and white, some of our members still disagreed with our ruling, citing that common-sense had the opposition. We even had one player drop out of that month’s tournament and threaten to boycott future events unless we overturned our ruling. Despite our efforts to explain the hows and whys of this rule, the pseudo-ultimatums, and our gut feeling that we were correct in upholding the draw, we decided to defer judgment to the masters and other associated minions of the USCF. Given the position, they determined that our ruling was correct.

I think I’ve made my indelible feelings about 14H abundantly clear in this little diatribe of mine; however, even though I’m an ardent devotee of logic and fairness, I’m equally fanatical about seeing justice done according to the letter of the law. We play by the rules, no matter how ridiculous they may seem at times. If we let one rule slide, what’s next? Touch-move? I’m quite sure that Pandora doesn’t have a promising gift for us in her proverbial box.

Lesson learned: TD’s have tough jobs. When the established rules run contradictory to common-sense and popular opinion, he or she still has a fundamental obligation to ensure everyone is playing by the book - and most importantly, by the same book. Those who criticize a director for following the policies and procedures put out by our governing body - however unreasonable they may seem -- are not fit to direct themselves as they lack the integrity necessary to be objective arbiters. One cannot pick and choose which rules to follow on a case-by-case basis and expect to be taken seriously, let alone be trusted to serve as an ethical director. This, as they say in the business world, is the bottom line.

That’s it for today, folks. Come back and see me again -- same battime, same bat-channel. Until then, I’m patiently waiting for my next fun encounter as a tournament director, though I doubt the next one will be filled with such high intrigue and logical speculation. This was definitely one for the books.

Copyright 2002-2005 by Matt Nemmers, all rights reserved.

About the Author

Matt Nemmers is a 31-year old chessplayer who is currently serving on active-duty in the U.S. Navy, which he has represented three times in Interservice competition versus the Army, Air Force and Marine Corps. He currently resides with his wife Amy and two daughters, Madeline and Grace, at their home in Fort Worth, Texas.

Though he's played chess most of his life, Matt played in his first rated tournament in April 1999. Since then, his hobby has blossomed into a full-blown obsession and he's organized and directed tournaments, served as an officer in the Iowa State Chess Association, and built websites dedicated to chess. (See http://www.iowachess.org, http://www.quadcitychess.com, and http://www.interservicechess.com for some of Matt's handiwork.) He is currently a Class 'B' player as rated by the USCF, but like most players, is always working to improve his game.

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