A couple months ago I was paired with a somewhat quirky individual - one who consistently stands out a bit by his scruffy appearance, including both infrequent grooming and sloppy attire. (In short, he looks like a chessplayer!) I hadn’t played this person previously, but had sized him up as a very serious player; his rating was about 200 points above mine. I’ll call this guy “Roger” just for reference here - it’s not his real name, of course.
I played 1.e4 and he deployed Petrov’s Defense. I hadn’t played that before myself, but had encountered it, and had studied it a little… just a little. I declined the pawn and instead played 3.d4 which I knew was a sound alternative (“Modern Attack”?), and knew a little bit about how to play it. Surprisingly to me, this seemed to throw him off a little - evidenced by his play, general body English, and additional time he was taking (which was atypical for him).
I played the opening and most of the middle game pretty well. While material was equal, my position around move 25-30 was likely superior. However - and I did not want to tell him this - I had had some medical issues the previous week (details unimportant!) and was feeling quite uncomfortable - getting worse as the evening wore on. I was starting to wish I had stayed home, and to the surprise of some onlookers, I asked for a draw. I rarely would ask for a draw in general, and the ONLY reason I did so at this point was my physical discomfort, along with the realization that a long endgame lay ahead. So after about move 30, admittedly, I was thinking of this as the preferred outcome… for me, in this situation. And I suspected he’d be relieved by the option as well.
But I didn’t think about the proper “mechanics”, and in fact offered Roger the draw out of turn. He got very upset because of the way I did this, which I readily admit now was not procedurally correct. But intsead of just saying that quietly (i.e., in the mode that I had addressed him), he made a big demonstration of his dissatisfaction. Roger stopped both clocks, stood up, threw his hands in the air, and exclaimed loudly: “You’re out of turn! You can’t talk like that! Where is the TD?” …which unnecessarily disturbed every game in the room.
This was completely over-the-top, given the obvious intent and tenor of my “talking”. Additionally, it’s a small room - and the TD was literally in a game about 12 feet away from us. No outburst was required, and others also made known their displeasure to Roger. As in many cases, reactions to him were probably somewhat shaped by his past behavior, as well - while he’s not loathed, he’s clearly not the most popular guy in the club. At that moment, I didn’t get what he was trying to accomplish with the added drama. But no big deal, I understood that maybe he was distracted by that, so I won’t do it again.
The TD also didn’t understand, and didn’t take kindly to his outburst. “So- just what did he say?” “He said he wanted a draw. On my turn.” “OK - and what do you want me to do?” Roger didn’t answer, but just pointed to the (still stopped) clock. Clearly he wanted me assessed a penalty, but even he could now see he wasn’t getting much sympathy. For my part, I was now getting a bit upset at him, but I kept that inside me. I decided to not ask for a draw again, but was determined to play through my discomfort and attempt to win. He settled back in and I restarted the clock, but obviously there was something now ‘in the air’ between us - and, unfortunately I think, much more interest in our game - around the room. I’m pretty sure I had nearly everyone’s sympathy at that point (of course that’s not worth anything quantitative).
But the story actually escalates - and, I think - gets more entertaining, a bit later. After about 5-10 minutes (maybe 3 moves on each side), and in fact about three times after that, Roger (who sports a bit of a paunch) actually pulls his shirt up out of his belt… and not just a little, but WAAAY up - and starts scratching his bare belly! And not just a little rub - but instead a full, five-fingernail, very audible scratch. And not just for quick itch relief; instead, an exaggerated, prolonged, low-frequency/high volume event. Scratch, scratch, SCRRRRAAAATTTCH.
Way more than any out-of-turn draw request… now THAT was distracting. But what would have been otherwise upsetting to me was so ridiculous… that any intended the distraction was more than offset by the humor factor! So in the net result it surprisingly didn’t bother me. The kind of thing that chessplayers do, earning us some of our reputation… I guess.
I played on quietly, but continued to struggle (physically) and eventually made a C-player mistake - exchanging Knights in a manner that let his Bishop out of a hemmed-in position. I had worked to push him there, earlier, and in retrospect my exchange was clearly a mistake. Admittedly, it was meant to move toward a draw - not my typical mindset - and in doing so, unfortunately gave Roger the game. I ultimately lost a minor piece engame by literally one tempo, but my heart was not completely in it - which I regret.
So the bad sportsmanship, in my opinion, was in two parts: first the outburst, then the belly-scratch. I enjoyed telling my wife and 20-yr old daughter about it the following morning, of course emphasizing the second part… and evoking some laughs and a chorus of "EWWWWW"s!