IM Emory Andrew Tate (1958-2015)

Yesterday I read the sad news that Emory Tate had died on Saturday while playing in a tournament in the San Jose area of California. FM Mike Klein wrote a nice obit for Chess.com that you can read here.

Tate was a chess lifer, and seems to have spent most of the last 30 years or so drifting from tournament to tournament. Prior to that he had won the US Armed Forces Championship five times, I believe. His devotion to the game, and to attacking chess in particular, coupled with his outsize personality made him something of a legend.

Back in the late 1990s I'd see people write "TATE!" on a chess message board or other online fora, and I had no idea what they were talking about, though it always seemed to get a rise out of everyone else. And then I actually got to play against him in a small tournament in the Fells Point neighborhood of Baltimore. The Fells Point Chess Club had (and has) regular tournaments every Saturday down on Aliceanna Street, and that particular day (then FM) Emory Tate showed up, presumably to pick up a little extra cash. (He duly won that cash.)

In our game, played in the first round, Tate played the opening in his usual aggressive style and ... I came out of the opening with a solid plus! Tate started going a little more wrong, and then the drumming started. No, not my heart at the thought of successfully competing with someone almost 700 points stronger than me, but actual drums. Fells Point is kind of a party district in Baltimore, and a drum festival kicked off a few doors down that morning. I lost my composure and blundered a piece a couple of moves later. I resigned immediately. After the game Tate went over it with me. He didn't think much of the advantage I had created (I thought less of it than the mechanical beasties do), but his reply to my blunder was to practically shout, "That's just garbage!" He wasn't rubbing it in, or trying to make me feel bad, he was just that offended that this move had appeared on the board!

After that, I understood the cries of "TATE!" I've got another story about Tate from that day, but I'll keep that one for another time. Requiescat in pace, Emory Tate, and condolences to your family and loved ones.

Here's our game, with my very brief original notes. (A note to the notes: I actually played well up until my last move, though I didn't think so at the time.)

One more note: the date I have recorded for the game won't match the date in USCF. My date is correct.