Blog GilaChess

I stopped playing over-the-board chess about eleven years ago. Ole Ole Shah Alam 2015 was the last tournament I played in.Even that I entered because it was near where I lived.

The reasons were simple enough: I didn't enjoy sitting over a classical game for two-plus hours, and competitive chess made me anxious. Even short, rapid games. There was no dramatic exit — I just drifted away. Also, I prefer to be the person who captures interesting stories from a chess tournament which is why I am usually a "chess blogger" or photographer instead of a player in any chess tournament.

Last weekend I came back, at a 56-player rapid tournament (15+0) in my hometown of Teluk Intan. It's a small place that rarely sees a chess tournament, which felt like the right setting for a low-stakes experiment.

What I expected vs. what I got

My playing strength at ELO 1870 has always been mediocre in a very specific way: I never drop below 50%, and I never climb far above it either. I expected more of the same. What I didn't expect was to feel completely calm. In the past, my heart would pound before every game. This time, nothing. Just quiet.

The chess itself was a mess. I was chronically short on time — 15 minutes felt like permanent time trouble — and I made silly mistakes, dropping pieces in all my games.. My problem-solving was not what I wanted it to be. And yet I scored 4 out of 7. Neither happy nor disappointed. About 50%, as usual.

The most memorable moment: I lost the exchange. Then I lost a whole rook. And somehow I swindled my way to a win anyway. If that doesn't sum up mediocre-but-stubborn chess, I don't know what does.

Why I actually came back

Here's the honest part. I wasn't really testing my chess. I wanted to test my problem-solving skills under pressure — the same muscles I use for coding and software development. Chess was just the laboratory. And the results were useful: my calculation was rusty, my time management was poor, but my composure held. That's worth knowing.

Will I play more OTB? Most probably not. But online, maybe because of the silly challenge to get a FIDE arena online title challenge. 

Champion of the Lotus Teluk Intan Rapid:

Another reason I quit chess. I particularly hate losing to young kids. Who doesn't!

at least I got a real physical certificate (not the fashionable digital version many tournaments are giving out)

Let me say up front where I stand: I’m going to keep calling it Fischer Random Chess. Not “Freestyle.” Not out of stubbornness, but because names matter, and this one belongs to the man who earned it.

I don't think there is a debate but I wish there was. Whether dropping Bobby Fischer’s name does him a disservice has been simmering for a while now, and there’s no neat consensus. It mostly comes down to whether you value history or marketing more. Let me lay out both sides, but you know where I stand on this.

The Case That It IS a Disservice

Fischer introduced the variant in 1996. That’s not a vague bit of folklore, it’s a documented moment in chess history. He designed it with specific rules in mind: the bishops must start on opposite colors, and the king must sit between the rooks so castling remains possible. Those weren’t random decisions (pun intended). They were the work of a man who thought deeply about what makes a starting position playable.

When you strip his name off the format, you strip away the origin story. A new fan who hears only “Freestyle Chess” has no reason to ever ask where it came from. Credit for an invention is a small thing to ask for, and it’s exactly the thing that quietly disappears when a name is swapped out.

The Case That It’s NOT a Disservice

I’d be doing you a disservice if I pretended the other side has nothing. They have real points.

Marketability. “Freestyle Chess,” popularized by events like the Freestyle Chess G.O.A.T. Challenge, sounds modern and intuitive. Casual fans, sponsors and media find it easier to embrace. That matters when you’re trying to grow a format.

The Fischer problem. Fischer’s legacy is deeply complicated by his virulently anti-Semitic statements and erratic behavior later in life. Some organizers and sponsors would simply rather not attach their brand to that. I understand the instinct, even if I don’t share the conclusion.

The name was never fixed anyway. Fischer himself called it Fischerandom Chess. FIDE adopted the technical name Chess960, after the 960 possible starting positions. So this format has always lived under multiple names, and some see “Freestyle” as just the latest evolution rather than a targeted snub.

Where I Come Down

Here’s my take. Chess960 is a perfectly fine technical label, and it describes the math honestly. But “Fischer Random” is the name that tells the story, and I don’t think we should let it fade.

Separating the invention from the inventor’s personal failings is something we do all the time in other fields. We can acknowledge the man was deeply flawed and still credit him for what he created. Honoring a contribution is not the same as endorsing a life. Erasing the name doesn’t erase the controversy, it just erases the chess.

Still, I’ll give the other camp this much: the surge in popularity of these tournaments arguably fulfills Fischer’s ultimate goal. He wanted an elite, mainstream format built on pure creativity rather than memorized opening theory, and that’s exactly what the game is becoming. If a rebrand is what finally got it there, that’s hard to argue with.

But success under a new banner shouldn’t mean forgetting who drew the blueprint. Call it whatever you like in a sponsor deck. In my corner, it stays Fischer Random Chess.

 Yes, chess is definitely an addiction, No doubt about it. That's what this website name is based on. How else can you explain a normal person sitting down for hours in front of some boring plastic chess pieces almost motionless to try to beat another addicted chess player.

Ok Ok I know some of you will defend chess saying it's a constructive past time or hobby. Good for the brain and so on. I am here to tell you it's not. It can be but half of the time it's not.

Alright.  I'll be fair. Let me start with the good side, because there is plenty.

• It sharpens the mind: Focus, strategic thinking, seeing a few moves ahead. and it certainly trains you to concentrate. And hogwash to the popular belief chess makes you smarter. It teaches you a discipline. It DOES NOT make you smarter.
  
  
• It teaches emotional control: One careless move can wreck a perfect game. Chess drills patience into you and forces you to deal with your own blunders, usually while the clock is ticking. This I have to admit is a great skill to attain. The tai-chi like calm even in the face of calamities.
  
  
  
  
  
• It gives you flow: Finding a nice combination or cracking a tough puzzle feels wonderful. That dopamine hit of satisfaction is real, and it’s a big reason we keep coming back.

Now the dark side.

• The “just one more game” trap: Online bullet and blitz are the worst offenders. You lose a silly game, you want revenge, and suddenly it’s two hours later. I have been there more times than I can count.
• Brain drain: Instead of feeling refreshed, you can end up tired, grumpy and mentally fried. Not great for the family, and not great for your rating either :)
• False sense of productivity: Chess feels intellectual, so it’s easy to tell yourself you’re “training” when you’re really avoiding work, study or sleep. I’m not naming names, but I know one person who does this.
• The blackhole of money: Chess sucks up all your money when you have to travel to some distant chess tournament Pay exorbitant "official" hotel fees and so on. How do you fund such expensive quests? The lucky few will have some generational wealth to fall on, have cushy jobs that support this lifestyle or have chess sponsors. The unlucky ones will struggle immensely.

So what to do? The answer logically should be moderation. Tone down on the chess routine that is eating up your life. Spend less on those expensive tournaments. But try telling an addict that!

To conclude,

1. Chess is a great mental workout when you stay in control of it.
2. Fast online games, chasing that elusive "I am going to do better" in endless expensive tournaments is where the addiction usually bites.
3. Slower games, puzzles and modest local tourneys is the way.

How has chess been affecting your routine lately? And don't tell me you are not an addict because that is what an addicts would say!

Philippine chess has fallen a long way, and it hurts to write about it. I say that as a Malaysian blogger who recognise Eugene Torre as one of the big names in Asian chess. He became Asia’s first Grandmaster back in 1974, and for years the Philippines was the country everyone else in the region looked up to.

At it's height, Philippines finished 11th in the 1974 World Olympiad lead by Eugene Torre! 30 years later, With Wesley So,  spearheaded the national team, the Philippines reached a FIDE country ranking of World Number 32! Right after his official federation transfer to the United States was approved by FIDE on October 28, 2014, the impact was immediate. Phillipines dropped to 43rd place!

Today the Philippines sits around #54 in FIDE’s global rankings (I’m quoting the figure from the article I read, so please check the current list yourself). That’s a steep drop for a country with so much history.

Before I go on, a caveat. I’m a third-rate blogger sitting in Malaysia, not someone inside the Philippine chess scene. What follows comes from what players, analysts and critics have said, plus plenty of “he said, she said” that I can’t verify. Take it as a summary of the complaints, not the gospel truth.

Here are the main issues people point to:

1. Politics and federation management: This comes up the most. Critics say the National Chess Federation of the Philippines (NCFP) has been run more like a personal business than a development body, with control and favouritism coming ahead of supporting players. The long leadership of Prospero Pichay Jr. has been controversial, and the disputes have split the local community.
   
   
2. Brain drain: The talent keeps leaving. The most painful case is Wesley So, who peaked at World No. 2 with a rating of 2822. After winning gold at the 2013 World University Games, he reportedly had his government incentives blocked by the NCFP because he’d skipped another event the federation preferred. He later described an “endless cycle of corruption” and switched to the United States Chess Federation. Others followed a similar path - Bong Villamayor moved to Singapore, and Oliver Barbosa also went abroad to build a career. GM Mark Paragua has moved to New York and has a niece Megan Paragua who is making waves in US Chess now.
   
   
3. Money, or the lack of it: India pours support into coaching, sponsorship and youth pipelines. In the Philippines, talented provincial players struggle just to get started. Getting the GM title means playing expensive norm tournaments overseas, and each trip can cost ₱100,000 or more. Local prize pools are modest and barely cover travel and accommodation, so many masters end up treating chess as a hobby or leaving for other careers.
   
   
4. A long Grandmaster drought: The Philippines hasn’t produced a new homegrown open GM since Richard Bitoon in 2011. That’s about 15 years. The NCFP has also apparently failed to send youth teams to big events like the World Youth Championships or the U-16 Olympiad for much of the past decade. If kids don’t get exposure, they don’t get strong. It’s that simple.
   
   
5. One WGM: Janelle May Frayna officially became the Philippines' first Woman Grandmaster (WGM) when her title was confirmed by FIDE in 2017, after completing her final WGM norm in September 2016 at the 42nd Chess Olympiad in Baku, Azerbaijan. She is their ONE and only WGM so far. To be fair, there are other top Filipina chess players looking to earn the WGM title include: 
   Ruelle Canino (Woman International Master / WIM) – Runner-up at the 2026 Philippine National Women’s Chess Championship
   Jan Jodilyn Fronda (Woman International Master / WIM) – Third place at the 2026 Philippine National Women’s Chess Championship
   Shania Mae Mendoza (Woman FIDE Master / WFM)
   Mhage Gerriahlou Sebastian (Woman National Master / WNM)

It isn’t all gloom, though. In 2020 the Professional Chess Association of the Philippines (PCAP) launched the first professional chess league in Southeast Asia, aimed at giving local players a real livelihood. There’s also the National United Chess Federation of the Philippines (NUCFP), a grassroots group pushing the old guard for transparency, accountability and reform. Will they succeed? I honestly don’t know, but there are parties that are trying.

Economy is a factor

Malaysia has a higher GDP per capita ($13,125 vs $4,171) and stronger industrialization, whereas the Philippines has a slightly larger total economy ($487 billion vs $473 billion), a bigger population (117 million vs 36 million), and lower public debt-to-GDP (59% vs 71%). I've been to Philippines and comparatively, Malaysia is doing better than the Philippines. Of course that's from my limited one off visit there. I saw that quite clearly when I went for the 1st Prospero Pitchay Open, I saw how the everyday Pinoys lived and it was definitely more humble compared to everyday Malaysians. So there is definitely the economic struggles to contend with - but on the other side of the argument, Philippines have many more GMs compared to Malaysia. But I'll put that to grassroot support. Pinoys are more crazy about chess than Malaysians. Just one subjective metric used, online views of live big chess events in KL and Penang can hardly reach 10 whereas a Penang friend said they have hit 50+ before. Whereas I saw just from WGM Janelle May Frayna casual blitz stream hitting hundreds of simultaneous viewers!!

To summarise,

• Politics: Control and favouritism over player development.
• Talent loss: Wesley So, Villamayor, Barbosa and Paragua all left.
• Funding: Costly norm trips, small prize pools.
• Results: No new open GM since 2011.
• Hope: PCAP and NUCFP are pushing for change.

As a Malaysian, I can’t help seeing a mirror here. We have our own problems with funding and grassroots support, and I want to learn by seeing what is happening to our neighbours. The Philippines has produced world-class talent before and could do it again, so I’m hoping the next Torre is out there right now, waiting for someone to sponsor his plane ticket.

What do you think - can Philippine chess recover, or has too much damage been done?

I couldn't help noticing this in Facebook about Philippine chess. Suddenly there is a flood of FB posts about a big divide. One side is the National Chess Federation of the Philippines (NCFP), the official body. The other is a loose crowd of grassroots organizers and critics, some of them tied to alternative movements like NUCFP. Everyone has opinions, and a lot of them are loud. NUCFP is backed by big names like Manny Pacquiao, GM Wesley So, Paul Elauria, Cliburn Anthony Orbe, Jose Dionisio "Jong" Guevarra, Orly Ortega, Ariel Potot, Tony Aguirre, Melben Jochico, Rey Rabago, Wesley So, Julio Catalino Sadorra, Rogelio Barcenilla Jr., and John Paul Gomez.

So what are people actually fighting about? From what I’ve been reading, it comes down to three things.

1. Sanction fees (a.k.a. “who pays for what?”)

This one keeps coming up. Independent organizers and critics have raised concerns about the sanction requirements and fees attached to big open tournaments, regional and international, like the Manny Pacquiao International Open. It's a substantial event with attractive prize fund ₱5,000,000 (RM 320,000+) across the many divisions.

AI generated for illustration only

2. Manila vs. everyone else

The NCFP, is the country official chess federation, currently led by Prospero Pichay Jr. and working with the Philippine Sports Commission, runs the national championship qualifiers through three legs: Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao. But hubs like Cebu keep pushing for more autonomy, more local recognition, and more support for homegrown, grassroots chess. The seems to be tension between a Manila-centric structure and strong provincial scenes.

3. Who gets to wear the flag?

Because NCFP is the official federation, selection for the Chess Olympiad and the Asian Games goes through NCFP semi-finals and grand finals, and every so often that causes a stir. There are voices, questioning whether talented players who come up outside the official pipeline get a fair shot.

I’m not here to side any party. A lot of what’s out there is critics’ claims and Facebook posts, and the official side has its own story. Only time will see how this pans out..