In 1997’s Azerbaijani Championship under 14 years old, I was leading the tournament (11 games, 12 participants playing in round-robin, where every player meets every other player) at half-time with 5 out of 5. I won convincingly against Gashimov Sarkhan (older brother of GM Vugar Gashimov) in the first game (Sarkhan went on to win the tournament) and Chingiz Aliyev later and was hopeful about my chances to break out of the national boundaries to finally experience the international arena. It was a sensation — “Mukhtarov is going 5 out 5” was the whisper in the club…Given the hyper-competitive nature of the setting, the whisper was not well-intended. And then, unexpectedly, I lost to Gurbanov Sabukhi (Zaqatala), an outsider against whom I won many games before and after. This was painful, but not the end of the world.
The “end of the world” happened in game 7 against Viktor Trushelyov (an IM who now lives and works in Russia), where I have had a good position during the whole game, and gained a winning advantage towards the end, but then missed a simple tactic and lost the game. In the position on the left, instead of playing a simple winning 57…Bf3!I played an unfathomable 57…Bc8?? Not the loss itself was painful, but the easiness of the winning move, which I had missed. I could not forgive this to myself, neither could my dad, who was visibly distressed and upset. We got home in silence and he just laid on the sofa in disbelief of what had just happened. I was desperate, or rather, deflated — a feeling that perhaps only chess players know — when you struggle for 5 hours, little by little gain a winning advantage, and then in one move throw everything away. That’s the moment of self-hatred that is so painful. I needed to be comforted by others, or by myself — but that did not happen. My next opponent was Guliyev Sarkhan (Ganja) and then Guseynov Elmir (Baku) – both strong and experienced players — and I lost to both, without any resistance. And here I was with four consecutive losses after the first five wins. The source of this collapse was purely psychological, not recovering from two unexpected and undeserved losses (especially in the game with Viktor). This led to the full energy discharge.
I was desperate, or rather, deflated — a feeling that perhaps only chess players know — when you struggle for 5 hours, little by little gain a winning advantage, and then in one move throw everything away. That’s the moment of self-hatred that is so painful.
But there was a lesson to learn, for my father in any case. In 1999, when I lost to Chingiz Aliyev in game 5 of the 1999 Championship (see previous post), my father took me to a sweets shop at the Nizami metro and I could pick the things I fancied — something that never happened before or after . We came home and there was food (made by mom), tea and time to relax. I was angry with myself, so it helped that at home my parents were supportive. And next morning, I felt fresh to play what appeared to be one of the longest games from my youth career– one that lasted 100 moves. I won, with difficulty, but I won. A lesson — be kind and compassionate to your students/pupils and yourself, support them in difficult times, do not rush to punish or express your own anger and frustrations. Kindness and support go a long way.
In the 6th game I won against Fazil Abdulin with Black, a good player who managed to be a nuisance to all of the chance-owners with his solid play (he beroved Chingiz Aliyev of a half-point that was the difference between the two of us). I remember getting a small advantage with Black and having to play for long hours to squeeze something out of it, which I managed, see the game below. In the 7th game I played White with Nazarov Orkhan, a friendly and quiet peer who later made a successful career first in the private sector and then in the Ministry of Education, moving on to become the Chairman of the Tax Office under the Ministry of Economy of Azerbaijan. Orkhan played solidly and it was only with some luck and persistence that I managed to snatch a point from him, in what appears to have been a drawn rook ending. In game 8, it was an important meeting with Viktor Trushelyov who struggled in this tournament despite considerable experience and strength. I won convincingly, the game is below.
A lesson — be kind and compassionate to your students/pupils and yourself, support them in difficult times, do not rush to punish or express your own anger and frustrations. Kindness and support go a long way.
Game 6, Abdulin Fazil – Mukhtarov, Farhad
Game 8 Mukhtarov, Farhad – Trushelyov, Viktor, Benko Gambit Declined
A few words about Viktor Trushelyov — a player of some strength who was feared by many in the club. Always accompanied by his father, also named Viktor Trushelyov, the junior Viktor was an ambitious and expressive player. Ambition showed in fearless attacks and the will to win, I remember seeing him prevail in games against such patriarchs of Baku chess as Mikhail Shur and Oleg Pavlenko (the latter is mentioned by Kasparov in this interview on growing up in Baku, he called Pavlenko “a champion of the cafe” smilingly/mockingly). But Viktor was not successful in youth chess, to the extent that I remember, he never ended up among the prize-winners of any youth championships he partook. His expressiveness and joyfulness I remember because he liked running around other children, to great frustration of his father who wanted Vitya to behave seriously. They emigrated to Russia in the early 2000s, and Viktor became a professional chess organiser and coach, now based in Nizhny Novgorod.
Viktor surprised me with the Benko Gambit, I have not seen him play that before. The 4. f3 is a move I enjoy playing, and as a Saemisch player, it comes naturally to me. If in the past it had a surprise value, nowadays it does not, so I may need to look for another weapon. After Black played 5…b4, there is basically no counter-play on the Queen’s side and White can develop their own pieces in the center and on the king’s side. And that eventually lead to a devastating attack. Looking back at the moves, it is clear to me how good my technique was at the moment. At the same time, it seems that I was an uncomfortable opponent for Viktor. In the games with me he often was on a losing end, and it all looked too easy. I wonder how these things work, especially in youth tournaments where psychology plays a huge role.
Game 8 Mukhtarov, Farhad – Trushelyov, Viktor
Game 10, Farhad Mukhtarov – Gashimov Sarkhan
After the win over Trushelyov, I was suddenly in a position of a favourite with real chances for the first or the second place and hence for traveling abroad. The next opponent was Sarkhan Gashimov, a strong player, multiple times champion of Azerbaijan and a frequenter of international tournaments. Sarkhan is an older brother of diseased GM Vugar Gashimov, and now is a very active and successful chess official, businessman and government official (working at the Ministry of Economy of Azerbaijan). Sarkhan and I studied together at the university, we were in the same class. So after playing chess together, I also had a chance to get to know him as a peer student. Gifted socially and organisationally, Sarkhan quickly rose to prominence in the university world. We are in touch still, although it is not easy to meet a busy man that Sarkhan has become.
In the game below, we played the first moves fast: 1.d4 d5 Surprise. Sarkhan usually played semi-open variations of Queen’s Indian Defence, where we had a dozen or so games, I do not remember winning a single one there! With this, he is deviating from his known variations, which, together with his self-confidence to resolve issues at the board, resulted in a bad decision a few moves later. In important games, one must stick to his guns and play a system one knows well…Although, a surprise value can sometimes justify a deviation. In this game, it did not. 3. c4 dc4 4. Nf3 a6 5. e3 e6 6. Nc3 c5 7. 0-0 Nc6 8. Qe2! cd4 9. ed4 As you see, the pawn on d4 is now hanging. With the move Qe2, I was following preparation that my father copied from a library book (I do not know which one), see the photos below — yellow aged paper of a recycled Soviet notebook. It explains that White are to put the queen on e2, the rook on d1 and the bishop on g5 to maximise its advantage in space and activity. The notebook also discusses an alternative plan of Black without c5, when Steinitz played Nbd7 and Be7 early on to prioritise development. Now, exactly this lagging behind in development is the basis of the pawn sacrifice that White offered with 8. Qe2. Sarkhan, being an aggressive and self-confident player, took on d4 after a short think…A major mistake.
9…Nd4? 10. Nd4 Qd4 11. Rd1! Black are faced with a difficult choice here. The best was Qb6 12. Be3 Qa5 13. Rc1 with advantage in development and a threat of Nd5. But 13.Nd5 Nd5 14. Rd5 Qc7 15.Rc1 is also possible, computer likes the position of White. I assume it would have been possible for me to draw this position as this was the goal of the match — to retain chances of securing one of the top two places in the tournament. Instead, Black played 11…Qg4? A logical move in order to save time for development. White’s queen is under attack and the first move that comes to mind — 12. f3 is met with Bc5+ and Black solves its development problems and keeps an extra pawn. However, White has something better in store! I knew this thanks to the notes that my father prepared for me, my opponent did not. And that made all the difference!
My father, a strong player himself in his heyday (some 2100 player, mostly in correspondence chess) played a huge role in my success in general, and this game in particular. We were poor, so we could not afford new books, magazines or trainers/coaches. Some other players had a good relationship with the director of the Republican Chess Club and had access to the computer databases, government funding to travel and coaches — for example my opponent in this game. But my father was ingenious and determined. He went to the public library and found chess books there, unfortunately one could not borrow them out! No problem! He just sat there and copied the books by hand, one journal after another for the openings that he thought I should play. Back then we did not copy-machines, or at least not in the public library in Baku — or he did not have money to pay for those. And in one of those copied notebooks there was a variation that I remembered, and played in this game. The text says: “…if Black takes on d4, they seriously lag behind in development” and then the variation I played in the game. I still don’t know where this analysis originated. The check in the chessbase system shows that there was one game from 1984, a New Zealand Championship (!) where White implemented the right plan. In a few other games the black Queen went back on b6 or a7 and were left in a worse situation. I embed the game below.
12. Nb5! This was a shock for my opponents and a reason for chatter in the club in the days to come. “Mukhtarov sacrificed a piece in the opening!” said Aliyev Chingiz next day! And then Elmir added that actually there was even a better move (12. Nd5!). It was discussed by the trainers of the Gashimovs (both brothers were taking lessons from the same trainers, I remember after the game they were looking at the position with IM Magomed Zulfugarli who said — “you can’t take on d4 here”). The idea of this strike is based on the overworked knight on f6. If Black takes on b5, 13. B:b5 and Bd7 is impossible due to 14.B:d7 and the knight can not take back, the queen is hanging! And not taking on d5 allows Nc7+, which was illustrated in the game Green-Sarfati I mentioned above (New Zealand Championship from my birth year 1984). Apparently, 12.Nd5! was even stronger as there is no option of taking on d5 and Black is forced to take on e2. But I religiously followed the analysis I had in my books.
Sensing that I caught Sarkhan in a trap, I offered a draw!!! Yes, so much was my desire to actually make it into the top of the Championship that I did not want to risk anything here; maybe I was also a little afraid of Sarkhan — he was a champion in 1997 and 1998 and had a strong play; a draw against him was a good result. He refused, which was normal based on our tournament situation…He needed to win to retain chances of getting selected. 12…ab5 13.B:b5 Ke7 14. Be3 with a mate threat Qf5 15.Rac1. I played fast, I think I used some 40 minutes for the whole game whereas my opponent was close to 2 hours. The situation is dare — Bc5+ is threatening, all pieces of White are developed and Black is totally disorganised. Nd5 16.Rc5! With a threat of taking on d5. Nd5 17. Bd7 Kd7 18. Qb5+ and white won.
Game 10, Mukhtarov Farhad – Gashimov Sarkhan, 1999
After the game, my father and I tried to make sense of this victory — how much of it was my knowledge and how much was confidence at the board to work out the rest of the game? And we came to the conclusion that the confidence and competence to win was at least as important as the knowledge and preparation. I still found the right moves and put pressure on Sarkhan — we both were out of the book by move 13. And that made me feel that I deserved to win this game and the tournament as a result. Sarkhan resigned on move 20. This game still fills me with the feelings of happiness and fulfilment.
My father’s notes that kept me prepared
Game 11, Elton Khanjanli – Farhad Mukhtarov
This was the final game of the tournament, and I needed to win or to draw. The game went very smoothly, but it is also an achievement to win in such a simple way by restricting the opponent and creating tension and pressure. Later, when I now play in the team competitions against weaker opponents, I manage to create positions with a small advantage, but converting this advantage into a full point is difficult. More so I am taken aback by the easiness with which I won games like this one below. By the way, next year, in 2000 and 2001 I was less effective in creating such advantages and converting them. So staying one step ahead always requires continuous improvement. And one must admit, luck.
Game 11, Elton Khanjanli – Farhad Mukhtarov
And this is how I won one of the most memorable tournaments in my life. Two memories come to my mind about that day in April 1999. Someone told me something nasty about me said by another person, a rumour or an untrue insinuation. Normally, I would find it annoying, but I was so elated, so I just shrugged it off. And later, as we were walking around the club waiting for the tournament to end, my father was receiving congratulations from older players and parents of my competitors, often with the words “finally, after so many years!”. Back then, it seemed natural that I had won this title after playing in junior Azerbaijan competitions since 1994. Now, looking back, and seeing so many other talented and hard-working players (many of them receiving additional financial and training support) who have not won this title, I realise that there was nothing natural about it. And hence an achievement to celebrate, remember and be proud of.