Oh grief, another one-time Sussex University clubmate gone. Dismal news indeed, coming as it does only a couple of months after Chris Shephard’s passing.
Other posters here are right: Colin would have been 75 at the time of his death. The photo in that link is almost unrecognizable. When I knew him he had a full head of fair hair (but that very fine sort which unfortunately often takes its leave early). The bushy eyebrows were another subsequent alteration.
Colin was one of those dynamic characters whom you can’t imagine being even slowed down, never mind actually deceased. His physical presence was formidable; he always had a high opinion of his capablilities, and was brutally honest about airing it. (His LinkedIn profile contained the single word “Boss” in the Position Held field.)
He became secretary of the university chess club at some point during his first year, and soon set about putting some much-needed ginger into that near-moribund outfit. (They’d played matches throughout the previous year, but there was no other organized competitive activity, and attendances at meetings seldom reached double figures, with few if any team members to be seen.) His breezy self-confidence and organizing ability gradually began to yield dividends.
As I’ve already remarked in
Chris’s obit, we played together at the 1970 BUCA, and socialised regularly during the summer term that followed. Not so much in our final year, as the pressure of forthcoming finals began to build.
Our only serious competitive encounter was in the 1972 university championship, near the end of that final year, with exams safely out of the way. Despite a 15-20 point rating deficit, I was able to demolish his Latvian Gambit using the 3.Nxe5 Qf6 4.Nc4 line (holding in reserve the more usual dP advance). I don’t think he ever quite forgave me for dissing one of his favourite openings so comprehensively! He was always wanting sessions of five-minute games with me after that, just to show who was who and what was what. He usually prevailed in these by a fairly comfortable margin.
The gambling instinct evident in his playing style also manifested away from the chessboard. I remember one evening he suddenly demanded we abandon our usual penny-ante games and instead play nine-card brag, a real all-or-nothing contest. (But Chris Shephard ended up taking that pot, in his usual quietly apologetic manner.)
So farewell, Colin. A truly memorable character who brought a lot to the game. My condolences to family and friends.