Disclaimer

No openings were harmed. Any blunders were raised ethically on a free-range analysis board.

There’s a comforting myth that once you’ve got “IM” next to your name you can retire to a hammock woven from laurel leaves and engine hash tables. Sadly, titles don’t auto-renew like Netflix. And because I didn’t exactly study the start dates, two shiny new events decided to begin at almost the same time. Result: my chess life now resembles an airport departures board during a thunderstorm.

Last month, the 2nd Trevor Thomas Memorial and City of Bridges 2025 B both kicked off. Overnight I went from a civilized 5 games (3 in the tail-end of 1. German Open D elo 2300–2399 and 2 in the friendly England vs Czech Republic) to a slightly ridiculous 29 games. Some correspondence players juggle 30+ boards like they’re shelling peas.

I, however, have a day job, a family, and an under-9 tennis circuit with the logistics of Formula 1 and the weather resilience of a garden party.

The Target (a.k.a. Why I Did This to Myself)

In both new events I need +2 for a SIM norm. Simple to write, not simple to live. Wins in correspondence don’t fall from the sky; you either cultivate them early, or they resist you until the 7-man tablebases laugh in your face.

ICCF Titles — or, Why My IM Already Ate My Free Time

There’s a persistent myth that an IM title means you now commute to tournaments in a laurel-wreathed chariot. Reality check: it’s more like a loyalty card for long endgames.

Player titles (lifetime):

• CCE — Correspondence Chess Expert
• CCM — Correspondence Chess Master
• IM — International Master (hi, that’s me)
• SIM — Senior International Master (the next rung up the ladder of lost evenings)
• GM — Grandmaster (where your analysis tree gets its own postcode)
• IA — International Arbiter (for those who prefer organising the chaos)

How you actually get these (a love story starring “norms”):

• You score norms in ICCF title tournaments that meet strict criteria (enough games, proper rating mix, multiple federations—no sandboxes).
• For IM, SIM, GM (and similarly CCM/CCE), you typically need two or more norms spread over ~24 games in qualifying events. If you go full superhero and overscore, you can trim that total.
• There are direct title routes for special feats (e.g., GM via a World Championship Final podium; SIM by winning a World Cup Final), but for most mortals it’s norms + volume + patience.

Why this devours calendars:

• Volume: ~24 serious games, each a mini-PhD.
• Field strength: Stronger sections may lower the score needed—but raise the prep temperature to “molten.”
• No free lunches: Event eligibility rules stop you from farming easy points, which is noble and also time-hungry.

TL;DR—being/earning IM already means years of careful study, opening gardening, and risk management. Chasing SIM just means more of that, but on a hill.

The Plan

• Be Boring with Black. Exchange the right pieces, add zero weaknesses, harvest draws like a responsible adult.
• Make Gardens with White. Plant small advantages and water them. If a tactic appears, act surprised and take it.
• Occasionally 1.e4? Deploy when it irritates the right repertoires; otherwise keep the vegetables tidy with 1.d4.
• Three-Move Rule. If I haven’t improved anything in three moves, I’m probably role-playing as a tablebase—time to change plans.
• No Heroics on Mondays. Or any day ending in “day” when work/family/tennis are in check. Good moves > great novels.

Expectations vs Reality

Expectation: “I’ll elegantly steer to small edges and convert like a machine.”

Reality: I spend 45 minutes debating whether 16…a5 is prophylaxis or a handwritten invitation to a minority attack I’ll later regret.

Expectation: “Two events = more norm chances.”

Reality: Two events = more norm chances and more opportunities for my past self to surprise my present self with novelty choices that looked brave at 11:58pm.

The 1.d4 vs 1.e4 Question

I did consider switching to 1.e4 for more open games and practical chances. Tempting… until you meet a file system that’s basically a monastery for forced lines.

Compromise: stick with 1.d4 where my shelves are stocked, and use selective 1.e4 to steer certain repertoires into asymmetric, plan-rich battles. Open doesn’t always mean winning, but it sometimes means interesting, and interesting is the gateway drug to +2.

What I Expect to Happen

• Not many wins on move 20. A few on move 50 when structure, piece placement, and fatigue start whispering.
• A couple of White games should mature into real chances once the opening dust settles. That’s where +2 lives.

With Black, immaculate half-points are slow-release vitamins for the norm arithmetic

What I Will Not Do (famous last words)

• Chase ghost lines because an engine shows +0.30 after 14 forced miracles.
• Overextend for “initiative” when I’m actually just donating squares.

Current Mood & Closing Pep Talk

The inbox said “new tournaments,” I said “how hard can it be,” and now my chess calendar is juggling chainsaws.

Still: the method is there, the aims are clear, and the coffee is strong. If I can shepherd two or three genuine winning chances and keep the rest immaculate, +2 is realistic.

And if you catch me staring through the middle distance during family film night… I’m not bored—I’m triangulating a king in a rook ending.

Totally different.

TL;DR: Two norm events collided, I ballooned to 29 games. Need +2 in each for a SIM norm.

New plan: be boring with Black, make gardens with White, drop in selective 1.e4, obey the Three-Move Rule, and avoid heroics on days that end with “day.”

Also: IM already cost a small mountain of evenings—SIM just asks for a larger mountain and sturdier shoes.