The 2022 NFL Week 2 Roundup | The Handshake

Fianchetto Variation

The World’s Fair Pavilion in St. Louis was christened in 1909 and funded entirely with proceeds from the 1904 World’s Fair. Designed by the famed Henry Wright in the Mission Revival style, it features twin open-air arcades flanked by two ornamental towers all connected beneath a high-hipped dramatic roof carpeted with bright red tiles seemingly spilling off its exaggerated wooden eaves. A stately venue it certainly is. And a venue that hosted at the beginning of this month the so-called Sinquefield Cup, the grand finale of the 2022 Grand Chess Tour. Yes there’s such a thing. In a normal year, the 5 legs of the Grand Chess Tour unpack with all the quiet, deliberate certitude one would expect of the game it celebrates. This isn’t a normal year. And so it was that on September 4th that World’s Fair Pavilion was the epicenter of teeth-chattering scandal in the normally staid world of chess. It was here that the top player in the world, Magnus Carlsen of Norway (pictured above left), stormed out of regulation gameplay. What he left in his wake are recriminations of unadulterated cheating, reflections of crippling self-doubt in a world overrun with youthful innovation and a generous helping of sour grapes. Just what you’d expect of a contemplative gentleperson’s game. Welcome to the 2022 Sinquefield Cup.

Every chess match ceremoniously begins with a perfunctory handshake. Magnus Carlsen, the #1 ranked chess player in the world, was paired with the lowest ranked player of the tournament, American Hans Niemann (pictured above right), on Opening Day of the Sinquefield Cup. And as tradition would demand, the competitors shook hands briefly, muscularly, and awkwardly. Old tradition meeting new vanguard. Carlsen, 31, cruised through his first two rounds as did Niemann, 19, who started with a draw in round 1 (against Levon Aronian) and ousted Shakhriyar Mamedyarov (the #2 ranked player in the world as recently as 2018) in round 2, rather stunningly. This paved the way for an expected Carlsen dunk on Niemann in round 3. It wasn’t to be. Initially with body language and betrayed with rumbled looks of frustration, Carlsen became visibly agitated with every passing counter-offensive. Surprised, bewildered, saddened, you could sense mounting tension boiling angrily beneath the rippled surface. In reality, Niemann skillfully — and stunningly — outplayed Carlsen with every single move.

The endgame for Carlsen began when he deployed the dreaded Fianchetto Variation, a typically terminal tactic nullifying Niemann’s threatening bishop. Niemann, much to the delight of the online crowd and onlookers in the tight-quartered room, countered with obscure savvy allowing him to knock out Carlsen’s pawns. It was a knock-out punch from which Carlsen knew he could not recover. The endgame was suddenly thrust against Carlsen’s worst nightmares, and he didn’t know how to carry on. So just as the game began, Carlsen haltingly rose from his chair to meet Niemann’s hand and shook it just as awkwardly as the initial greeting. Carlsen exited stage right, and without saying a word, got into his car and left the Tournament. Very unusual behavior for the ranking world champion who is known to skulk about after competitive events to socialize with his rarefied and close-knit competitors. Shockingly, Carlsen would go on the next day to completely withdraw from the Sinquefield Cup. He accompanied the withdrawal with a flamethrower of an accusation on Twitter. Carlsen — without proof — alluded to Niemann cheating as the only method by which he could have lost; that he knew more but couldn’t say. Very gentlemanly, no?

For his part, Niemann knifed into the festering would. He chalked it up to naked humiliation on the part of Carlsen that helped to explain the champion’s entitled behavior. “It must be embarrassing for the world champion to lose to me. I feel bad for him”, sneered Niemann. The best in the world losing to an unranked amateur American. Oh the horror. Not one to miss a beat, the World Chess Hall of Fame (yep, that’s a thing) scanned and wanded Niemann for an excruciating minute and a half before his next match looking for some type of hidden signaling device connected to the outside world and persons unknown. None were found though Elon Musk had his own wacky NSFW suspicions. Niemann would have escaped with the improbable (despite losing four days later to USA champ Wesley So), had he not participated in a post-match interview where he claimed to have divined inspiration (in coyly countering the Fianchetto Variation) from none other than Carlsen himself. Neimann lavished that by a “ridiculous miracle”, he’d rewatched same-day a 2018 match where Carlsen employed an identical gambit against Wesley So (but with a much different outcome for So) and reverse-engineered a Hollywood ending for himself. The problem for Neimann was that no such game played out between the two in 2018. Carlsen and So matched up in 2019 in India but not in the manner Neimann portrays. To make matters worse, #6 ranking Hikaru Nakamura Twitched that it was a known fact that Niemann had been caught red-handed cheating on chess.com (yep there’s that, too) via tech-related means and was summarily banned from the site. Player Eric Hansen, who famously engaged in a fistfight with Nakamura over chess (!!!), concurred. Neimann, unhelpfully to his cause, admitted that he had indeed cheated during his younger years with computer engines but only during virtual chess.com tournaments. (Recall Neimann is currently 19 years of age). Never in an over-the-board game. He also challenged Nakamura and Hansen to deliver proof of Sinquefield misconduct. They’ve yet to respond.

Only 15 days since Carlsen’s stormy exit from organized competition and drama-filled entrance into pop culture, the chess world remains as over toppled as an angrily tossed chess board, game pieces and all. But wait, there’s MORE! Just three days ago, the latest Carlsen transgression did little to restore for him any semblance of reputational rehabilitation. Far from it. The much-anticipated rematch of Carlen and Niemann, this time online, took place at the Julius Baer Generational Cup. After just two moves, Carlsen resigned with black, essentially losing on purpose. That’s not all. Carlsen logged off and has yet to explain his juvenile, unprofessional, mysterious and disrespectful conduct. Neimann won by default but not before triggering a fresh new round of hot Carlsen speculation on a fundamental level now questioning the reigning World champion. This, from among his peers. For someone with such a reverence for the Game and a carefully honed prominence etched in polished intelligence and poised gameplay, quitting just isn’t an acceptable offensive to a rising competitive threat 11 years his junior, no matter the circumstances. To ascribe Niemann’s success to cheating without offering proof and lobbing hollow accusations from the safety of Twitter just seems, well, unsportsmanlike. And cheap. And then to refuse to even engage with him in organized play reeks of genuine disillusionment. Sure Niemann is not the mournful, sympathetic, squeaky-clean protagonist as underlined in this little chess-themed imbroglio, but what’s most disappointing is the real-time disintegration and self-immolation of perhaps one of the all-time greats in chess. Maybe it’s Carlsen’s stubborn inability to acknowledge the inevitable. Maybe it’s his inability to admit a youthful competitor on the ascent with just as much moxy and zeal as he a decade earlier. Maybe it’s his inability to accept defeat. Maybe it’s his inability to look at his own reflection and by extension, his frailty. Entitled spoiled brat, principled guardian of the Game, or somewhere in between. Where Carlsen goes from here is as uncertain as the once invincible Fianchetto variation. But the damage has been done. Niemann will soldier on surprising onlookers with wisdom and technique beyond his years forever clouded with suspicions of wrongdoing. Carlsen will slump into the unknown. Whatever the case, we’re worlds apart from Bobby Fischer. Who knew that that now-famous awkward opening handshake on September 4th could have foretold such a tale of tension, hubris and innate sadness. On second thought, maybe it did.

Turning now to the NFL at the tender age of Week 2, here too, plenty of tension, hubris and innate sadness to go around. Dolphins at Ravens was an idyllic case-in-point. Hometown favorite Lamar Jackson was wildly back to dramatic, acrobatic form (21/29 318y 3TDs + 9car 119y) that propelled BAL powerfully through the first 3 quarters. Unfortunately for BAL, the team’s secondary couldn’t keep pace and kept wheezing when it needed to buzz. MIA’s Tua Tagovailoa is having a nice renaissance moment his very own (with a BIG assist from Tyreek Hill and Jaylen Waddle natch) and blasted through BAL’s lead to storm back in the 4th for the WIN, 42–38. Ravens fans were seen cowering behind trembling feathered wings unable to process. A similar story played out over in Vegas where the Cards stole a victory they shouldn’t have. Kyler Murray and his Cards were completely shutout in the first half and trailed lethargically into the 4th until, well, they weren’t. A kinetic comeback resulted in a tie are the end of regulation. Forced OT culminated in a crucial LAS fumble which was then promptly returned by ARI for the W, 29–23. And just like that, the Raiders slide to 0–2.

Over in Denver, the Texan came to town and lost 9–16. Revealing in the matchup though is the unease with which superstar Seattle transplant Russell Wilson is settling in with. Maybe it’s the altitude, maybe it’s the new environs with teammates swirling with unfamiliarity. Maybe it’s Coach Hackett’s training wheels. Whatever it is, while DEN escapes for the win, the quality of play and self-inflicted penalty-laden slop indicate that the team resembles actual real-life Broncos in name only. Further West, the Falcons landed at SoFi and predictably lost to the Rams, 27–31. The game was closer than it needed to be and the Rams aren’t playing with the vigor or stamina one would expect of the Super Bowl Champs just months removed from February. Nothing seems urgent and everyone aside from Cooper Kupp and Aaron Darnold look to be lazing about as if they were still on that meme-famous parade float before dozens upon dozens of spectators. Surprisingly for the Rams, the word sleepy slumbers to the surface. At the same time, their co-tenants the Chargers are enjoying an energetic start to the Season. Sure they lost to the KC on Thursday, but it sure was an offensive showcase featuring phenom Justin Herbert. It’s an interesting tale of two teams on differing trajectories. Continuing along with the NFC West, SF starting QB Trey Lance suffered a grievous season-ending ankle injury just out of the gate in the first quarter. Luckily for the 9ers, Jimmy G was waiting in the wings to deliver. And deliver he did in his typical, competent manner. SF defeated the floundering Hawks, 27–7.

In our Round Robin, the Lions look to be surprisingly fine-tuning their roar by picking off a completely decent WAS, 36–27. Speaking of surprises, the Giants pulled another victory out of the hat against Carolina, 19–16. Uncomplimentary to both teams, the Giants are doing just enough to get the job done while the Panthers (0–2) aren’t quite doing enough. But hey, the Giants are unbeaten (2–0) so that’s nice for them 😊. For now. Aaron Rodgers and his Packers bounced back (against the lowly Bears) as did a now Cooper Rush-fronted DAL squad who quashed the Bengals, a worrying start for a team which on paper looked unbeatable. In the football game of rock-paper-scissors, those darn shears keep coming up for Cincy. The Pats took out Steel City while Tom Brady took out his frustrations on an innocent Surface tablet after his Team limped to a measured win in the 4th after being caught off guard for the better part of the game. The Jags shutout the oft-struggling Colts and with last night’s doubleheaders, the Bills trampled the rusted-through Titans and the Eagles beat back the Vikings who charged out of the Week 1 gate. See? Tension, hubris, and innate sadness aplenty.