Chessboxing
Check this, mate!
David Cano explores the phenomenon of ChessBoxing, which is a mixture of chess and... boxing!
“If you make me look like a prick, I’ll kill you.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” I reply, trying not to let my voice quiver despite the fact I may have just shat myself a little. This wanton death threat is coming from the square jaw of chess boxer Jimbo ‘Slice’ Taylor (the ‘Slice’ stands for ‘custard slice’, a name his friend gave him after he put on weight). I’m talking to him in a back room at the Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club as he waits to charge into the square circle and do battle like some kind of murderous chess playing marauder.
He seems relaxed, yet there’s an unsettling look in his eye. It’s almost like he’s fantasising about disfiguring my face. My beautiful little face. I have to distract him so I ask what he’s more confident about, the chess or the boxing. “What’s the worst that can happen boxing?” he replies. “I can get beat up or get my jaw broken, but the last thing I wanna do is get check mated in three moves.” I glance at the bumpy bricks that are his fists and then back up at his face. I can tell he doesn’t like me. He wants to make me cry and then dip his chess pieces in my tears. I need to get out of here. I excuse myself and let him prepare for the fight.
Upstairs the club is filling up. Chairs are squeezed around the boxing ring in a small room that is dominated by a giant illuminated pink heart on the stage - a pink heart that overlooks the spot where beastly men will pound each other’s faces in. And play chess.
On the door are the most stereotypical east-end bouncers known to man. Big burly cockneys wearing long grey button-up coats and leather gloves. At one point a nerdy Hoxtonite tries to hurry through the doors and one of the bouncers grabs him by both wrists and pulls him back saying: “Woah woah woah, where d’ya fink you’re goin’ son?” The little nerd’s face is struck dumb with panic. It looks like he might start blubbering.
Tim Woolgar brought ChessBoxing to the UK about six months ago and set up the Great Britain Chess Boxing Organisation. "I was a chess player before... and a boxer. So it came together nicely," he says. "I was at a party and someone mentioned it. So I looked it up on the internet. I went to Germany, saw it live and I was hooked. I think with ChessBoxing, you're either hooked or you think it’s insane. When I came back to UK, I wanted to take part in ChessBoxing, but the only way it was going to happen was if I organised it." Tim fought/played on the night, but lost to a checkmate to one Konrad Rikardson in round five.
The fights are about to start and the founder of ChessBoxing, Dutch artist Lepe Rubingh is here. He’s dressed smart yet unassumingly, wearing a pair of slightly dorky spectacles. “It’s 11 rounds, six of chess and five of boxing,” he explains. “I got the idea from a comic book called Froid Équateur by Enki Bilal. I started boxing eight years ago and always played chess. It’s a combination of strength and intellect that uses every cell in your body. These are just low fights,” he says, pointing in to the club. “If you come to Hamburg you’ll see Russians from Siberia with 70 amateur fights and seven years of chess training. It’s amazing.”
With that, the lights dim and the announcer begins to whip the crowd into a blood lusting frenzy. 37 year old heavyweight Bob Innes enters the ring and does that quick back-and-forth tip-toe pacing, shaking his arms and lolling his head around. Dramatic music fills the room and in comes my old friend Jimbo ‘Slice’. I slide down in my chair hoping he doesn’t catch a glimpse of me and try to rip my spleen out or threaten to eat my children. Luckily he’s too busy pointing at Bob and mouthing homicidal threats.
The music stops, the chess table is placed in the centre of the ring and the two fighters sit down on stools as the bell marks the start of the first round. The chess gets underway and a commentator explains what’s going on, relishing every chess related innuendo. A crowd favourite is: “Both men are getting their pieces out”.
It’s fast paced and exciting, but I know what everyone’s waiting for. They want blood and sweat and broken teeth. The bell rings and everyone cheers. This is it. Time for some good old fashioned brutalising. The chess board is whisked out of the ring and the fighters don their gloves. The ‘Slice’ starts off strong, working his opponent around the ring. After only a couple of minutes, Bob looks tired. Jimbo doesn’t give him a chance, he’s aggressive and fast and totally dominating. As we get to the last few moments of the round, Bob slumps against Jimbo. The two grapple for a second and as they break, Jimbo seizes the opportunity and delivers a jaw shattering right hook. Bob sways for a moment, then his knees buckle and he tumbles to the ground. He’s out cold. It’s all over. The victor raises his fists in the air, the paramedics rush to the loser, and the crowd goes wild.
