RIP Andrew Saint – Mr Nice Guy of Australian chess

By now, many of you will be aware of the horrible road tragedy that occurred last week after the annual Doeberl Cup Easter chess tournament in Canberra.  The tournament is Australia’s premier chess weekender and players come from all parts of Australia and overseas to attend the chess festival.  Six players from the Melbourne Chess Club were on their way home to Victoria after the tournament finished last Monday night when their minivan flipped, killing two and seriously injuring another two. The accident was reported internationally in the chess press and of course locally in the mainstream media; a brief summary from the Australian newspaper is here.

You’ll notice in the article some kind quotes directed at Andrew Saint, one of the victims, such as “He genuinely was such a nice person.”  I can only echo those words.  Andrew was one of the nicest, most humble guys I’ve ever met. I’ve never heard him raise his voice, nor have I seen him without a smile on his face – except, perhaps, during chronic time trouble at the board, but even the unluckiest of chess defeat would be met with gracious (and smiley) acceptance at the end. There is no hyperbole here.

I’ve known Andrew since I was a kid, and in fact I can’t remember when we first met – the earliest I can clearly remember is speaking the 1999 Australian Junior Championships in Hervey Bay, Queensland. After he finished school, Andrew wanted to share his passion for chess with the community, getting involved in chess organisation and administration in South Australia. Such a thankless job can often be short term for naive but good-hearted chess personalities, but Andrew, ever the nice guy, accepted a position on the Melbourne Chess Club committee after moving to Victoria. He wasn’t just a chess enthusiast, either: hours before the tragedy struck, Andrew won his section of the Doeberl Cup, his biggest tournament victory in recent years.

I last spoke to Andrew in September last year, when he visited the World Chess Olympiad in Istanbul. He was very excited to see some famous international chess players in person, and I was able to introduce him to a few whose names he had only read about in the chess news, such as former World Women’s Chess Champion, Hou Yifan. I recall that she accidentally knocked over his glass of water, shattering it on the ground, which led to the comical scene of Andrew and Hou (also a super nice girl) racing to outdo each other in offering to clean up the mess. I’m not sure who was more embarrassed!

 

It wasn’t too surprising to see Andrew at the Olympiad; after all, travel and chess were two of his three main passions. His third was cooking, and one of his friends in Melbourne noted that Andrew hoped one day to open his own Bed & Breakfast inn, complete with cooking classes for the guests. I know I’d have stayed there.

One thing that’s become very clear from this horrible tragedy is how closely knit the chess community is. A flood of support and sentiment has flowed to the players and their families, and the Melbourne Chess Club, spearheaded by its tireless president Grant Szuveges, has been the focal organisational point for press releases, news, cards and hospital visits. It’s reminded me how this network of trust and reliance worthy of family is, for me, one of the best things about being involved in chess.

Goodbye Andrew; I’m very sorry I’ll never get to visit your B&B, or congratulate you on your victory, or host you in Amsterdam on a European holiday, of which we spoke. The Australian chess community has lost one of its favourite sons, its Mr Nice Guy. In fact, perhaps the only time I’ve seen him not putting others before himself was on the board: here’s Andrew spectacularly beating his higher rated opponent in the 1999 Australian Juniors, using my favourite Portuguese defence.