аЯрЁБс>ўџ ўџџџ{џџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџ§џџџўџџџўџџџ   !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz|§џџџ}~€Root Entryџџџџџџџџ РF€ЧљЧ№Нƒ€WordDocumentџџџџџџџџ §CompObjџџџџџџџџџџџџ^џџџџџџџџџџџџўџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџe choice, then are we not all (save Pete Birks, Nick Parish and a few others) in the wrong hobby? The first couple of hours on the registration desk were the most hectic with people piling through at a rate of knots with a fair number of odd queries; a handful of chess grandmasters turning up and demanding to get in free just because they were grandmasters, a delegation of ladies from Ukraine waving some faxed printouts of e-mails and incapable of other forms of communication, a lady who signed up to play Mastermind and then asked a little later "This Mastermind thing I've signed up for; it is the thing with the plastic pegs, isn't it?" - that sort of thing. It made the time pass quickly. A few other oddities cropped up on Monday; there was a letter to deal with addressed to a Miss Klara Matoustova of the Czech Olympic Team at the MSO, from a Daniel Zeman from Prague in the Czech Republic. We never opened it lest Ms. Matoustova appeared, but she never did. The press turned up in numbers and we had a couple of good releases for them; some mad 53-year-old from Southampton styling himself Scottish Monopoly Champion and World Cluedo Champion (which sound like highly credible claims... but probably worth more in real times than my Hare and Tortoise gong) decided that he liked playing games while nekkid in the bath. For some reason, he was provided with an opportunity to play Rummikub in just those competitions. Furthermore, a pair of brothers named Demis and George Hassabis had signed up for 12 and 10 of the events respectively; they had decided that playing in one event at once wasn't hard enough and signed up to take part in two simultaneously in a few of the sessions, rushing from room to room while their clocks were running in both games. Demis, a Double First computer science graduate from Cambridge, had picked up three silvers and two bronzes at last year's event and had declared himself disappointed by that haul. Still the drama continued on the desk on the Monday morning as a team of Chinese Chess players turned up having come from France just for the event. They enquired what the cash prizes were, only for us to have to tell them that, er, because there wasn't a major sponsor in the way like Skandia last year (who ponied up considerably towards the '97 Ѓ100,000 prize fund) the prizes were just medals, with round-the-world air tickets awarded in a handful of events and big bottles of champagne up for grabs in others. They wanted us to show them the money, though, and had a very heated debate about whether to return to France at once or not. There was also a gentleman who was curious to know why we hadn't organised a tournament in a Swiss game called "Choiss" which, in fact, nobody on the registration desk had ever heard of. The morning rolled on; we took people's money at the registration desk and handed it and the entry forms to the admin block, defined by partition walls, behind us where Tony Corfe typed the details into a rather large database. The number of entries rose from 1500 by the morning to 1650 in the afternoon and 1800 by the end of the day, but Tony wasn't even half-way through dealing with them because he could barely spend three minutes typing names in before people asked him to print a list of people taking part in their event out, or to deal with a missing registration form, or to make a decision about where to stick some signs, or to answer the phone or any of a hundred other jobs. The "Draughts for Beginners" event was first to finish and after lunch medals were awarded to the three highest scorers and the three best-performing juniors. The junior bronze medalist took another look at the eligibility requirements, found that she had to be under 18 on the day of the event rather than under 18 at the start of the year which was the usual ruling in chess tournaments and returned the bronze medal that they had awarded to her. I was rather pleasantly shocked by her honesty. A little later, David Bodycombe turned up and we had a chat with the lady arbiter of the puzzle design and solving events, мЅe#Р п§м,ќl,ќlќќ ќ Њ](ќьќ˜ќTюќpx] MS Sans Serif Symbol VerdanaTimes New RomanTimes New RomanSo what are you World Champion of this year? No apologies for the title - at least four of you have asked me that on separate occasions since the last issue, with regard to the Mind Sport Olympiad which took place from the 24th to the 30th of August at the Novotel hotel near Hammersmith in London. Well, they didn't hold a "Hare and Tortoise" event for me to defend my title so I'm afraid the answer is "nothing". It was still a good week, though. Read on... One of the things that was going to shape the coming week happened before the start; I checked the MSO web site on Saturday 22nd and found that for the last two weeks they had been looking for a respectable, presentable student with secretarial-type skills looking to get some work experience by helping out with the administration side of the event. Even so, I called the 'phone number given, gave a rather confused account of myself on the voice mail system and assumed I was too late. I was called the next morning by Don Morris, one of the four directors of the event, the other Three Horsemen of the Apocalypse being Tony Buzan (author, broadcaster and researcher into learning skills and mind maps), Ray Keene (author, broadcaster and physical embodiment of all that is chess) and Tony Buzan (author, broadcaster, researcher into artificial intelligence and posessor of the last word on all matters tournament). I had got myself a job for the week working on the reception desk when I wasn't running the Settlers of Catan card game tournament or playing in any of the other events! All good experience, something to put on the CV and a fine way to get to know interesting people. My host for the week was the extremely generous David Bodycombe, designer of games and puzzles and occasional GIT reader. He let me have a bed in his apartment in Norbiton, which was about an hour's journey by train and tube from the Novotel. David and I had both signed up for the Puzzle Design event on the Monday, not knowing whether this required us to construct new puzzles on the day or to have prepared some puzzles previously for submission; I ended up taking in a proof-reading manuscript of my forthcoming book as ammunition and David used the counterparts for his three books, the others in the same series. There were around 78 different competitions planned in about forty different categories for the whole week, with the mainstream games like chess, bridge and go having half a dozen different versions (5-minute, 10-minute, Ladies' Pairs, Open Teams-of-4, 19x19, 13x13, standing-on-your-head etc.) each and the weirdo stuff like Abalone, Entropy and Zatre taking up one slot apiece on the schedule. There were around 20 arbiters (tournament directors to you and me) to deal with the whole lot, and we were required to attend a 8:30am meeting on the Monday before the party started. David Levy read us the rules and regulations and introduced us to Tony Corfe (big in the world of chess clocks and chess tournament software), in charge of registrations, and John "Gus" Sugden, in charge of results. We were all invited to a champagne reception that night; they certainly knew how to treat their arbiters nicely. I was the youngest one there by only about fifteen years! Anyway, after the arbiters' meeting it was down to business; I was one of the four on the registration desk, responsible for checking off the names of people who had paid in advance to participate and responsible for ensuring those who had turned up on the spur of the moment had their details put through the system as well. My two neighbours on the desk were also arbiters who volunteered to help out while they weren't running tournaments: on my left was Michael Crane, director of the British Isles Backgammon Association; on my right was Dan Glimne, writer, top game designer (Svea Rike and DungeonQuest to name just two) and just generally The Man. Extremely polite and generous, too. He ran the "Hare and Tortoise" event I won last year and was running Othello and Poker this year. The list of pre-registered entrants was largely full of names unfamiliar to me with a couple of exceptions, like a Mr. Reiner Knizia. I thought it somehow rather unromantic that out of all the events Reiner could have chosen to take part in he plumped for mainstream old poker. If that's what Reiner plays, given thchairlady of the jury (along with Dr. David Singmaster, who pops up from time to time in the mainstream media as a Wacky Puzzle and Accessible Mathematics Bloke) and a leading light in the world of mechanical puzzles. She invited us to use selections from our unpublished puzzle books that we had brought in as entries for the puzzle design contest, first asking for one puzzle, then for twenty, then for five (but if you want to submit some others as well, just not for marking, that's OK too). The puzzles we entered into the design event would be judged, then used as material in the puzzle solving event, then judged again; only too late did she reveal that she was after difficult, mathematical, conceptual puzzles that people could sit down and work on for half an hour or more, rather than bite-sized pieces of cunning and trickery which you'll either get in twenty seconds or not at all but give a real hit of "ohhhhh, that's clever" when you see the answer. Oh well. We also talked to a gentleman who had invented HexDame and a suite of other chess variants and was peddling some boards and sets of equipment for them, who had turned out to be her former husband. The reason for their divorce was that he apparently spent too much time playing role-playing games. Quote of the day came from David Levy; upon hearing reports of an unexplained strong smell of diesel in hall 4 (the vast industrial basement downstairs three times the size of the ManorCon dining hall, as opposed to halls 1, 2 and 3 upstairs, which were perhaps six times as big as the ManorCon no-smoking room); "I don't think that's going to kill anyone - and if it does, we've got insurance!" Niiiiiice... No news about the puzzle design results on Monday so it was home for a few hours' sleep and a slightly later start on Tuesday. The Diplomacy competition at the MSO made page 7 of Tuesday's Times, or rather the lack of it; appointed arbiter Toby Harris had sent a letter to the MSO authorities a month before the event saying why a Diplomacy event wasn't workable within the MSO framework (I've seen the reasons and I quite understand the rationale) but for some reason the lack of Dip made the national news. Having been on the desk at the time when people would have signed up, I can reveal that nobody at all signed up for Diplomacy, though we did have one French gentleman ask where it was taking place so he could go and watch. Had we had some unannounced entries for the Dip (or, for that matter, for the War Games events) then they would have found a rather makeshift tournament director called Dickson; had we had between 3 and 7 entries (and I was half-expecting the Hortons to be two of them) then I would have run an Intimate Dip tournament for the medals (well... if I had been able to remember the rules). However, nobody signed up, so no Dip took place. It was, however, replaced by a pair of auditions for Countdown, which had been added at no notice last year but had proved popular (indeed, even normal mortals with no other MSO connection had been sent form letters inviting them to take the Countdown audition at the MSO). Countdown co-producer, occasional dweller of Dictionary Corner and former World Scrabble Champion Mark Nyman was responsible for running the auditions; having heard of his impending presence on Monday, I completely forgot to bring in a copy of my CV for him on Tuesday. Even so, I made sure that it was me he dealt with on the registration desk and that I was the one ticking off the names of prospective Countdowners as they arrived. Plenty of them brought their families too; another duty of registration desk folk was to hand out the programmes (and explain that when you turned them upside-down they turned into an issue of Games Games Games, because some people thought they had had a badly-printed copy) and badges; people had to have some sort of badge to progress past security and get in to where the games were. Unfortunately, one eager Countdown-ing couple had brought their son and I handed out badges to the three of them, referring to the son as a daughter. They took it well, but you could feel a handful of egos deflate at the same moment. Fortunately I could escape the registration desk to go and play in the first half of the Entropy tournament in the afternoon. I had learned how to play Entropy at the last MSO and had decided that that would be the serious competition I'd enter this time (along with Puzzle Design and "Learn and Play New Games" on the Sunday for light relief). To cut three long stories short, I lost all three games on Tuesday. One of them was to Demis Hassabis, who I mentioned before; Demis was simultaneously playing in the Entropy and Mastermind tournaments, trying to shuffle games of one in between games of the other, though he played Entropy against me while he was doing the code-setting part of Mastermind (it didn't take much concentration, just responding to his opponent's guesses and indicating how many black and white pegs to put out). Even so, he still managed to beat me at Entropy! He was a great fellow, though; despite all his mind games accomplishments, he didn't have an inflated opinion of himself or a bad attitude in any way - a really approachable, genuine bloke. The reason why he had multiple-booked himself into simultaneous events was to get the best possible chance in the "Pentamind" competition running through the week, one of the prestige events with an air ticket up for grabs. The Pentamind champion is the player who does best overall throughout the week; take your best five events (counting no more than one in any particular game, so you can't score in 5-minute chess and 10-minute chess; plus you have to have at least one major tournament, three half-day sessions long or more) and score them on a 0-100 scale (100 for the gold medalist, 0 for last place, linear interpolation in between). The highest score out of a possible 500 gets the big prize. The more events you play in, the more chances you have of picking up 100-point gold medals and the more duff scores you can drop. After uni, Demis started his own computer games firm, Elixir Studios, building upon his own experience from writing a game before he went to Cambridge, finishing at the age of 16. "You might have heard of it," he said, "it was called Theme Park". My eyes went from oo to O O at this point. He keeps the highest of standards, but he's still a regular Joe. What a guy! Also on Tuesday, while I was downstairs playing Entropy, all the lights went off upstairs and apparently there was a power cut lasting nearly an hour. During this time, someone came in and stole a video-cassette player, a ghetto-blaster and a camera. It was all a little too well-organised and Don Morris, the director in charge of logistics and so forth spent the next couple of days liasing with the hotel management, the police, resident insurers and everyone else trying to find out who had been responsible. If he had found the crook, he would probably have administered swift, bodily justice. The forename Don was somehow quite appropriate... The Tuesday evening prize-giving (no news about puzzle design, though) also saw a protest to the Bridge Multiple Teams of Four result, when the gold medalists finished on 91 IMPs and the silver team on 90. The tired and emotional silver winners took the house mic after being presented with their medals but I don't think they were able to find a scoring mistake that would have given them a crucial 91st IMP in the end. Wednesday, wrote Mr. Kipling, and the first appointment was breakfast with Nick Parish. We met at Wimbledon train station, the common point of our journeys to work, and found a greasy spoon cafщ on the High Street that was open for breakfasts. Nick had a full English breakfast and I had a surprisingly delicate round of bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches as we discussed Nick's forthcoming house move, past holiday and career plans. I then convinced him to take another route into work which involved accompanying me for the next 20 minutes of my tube journey, he sang some incomprehensible Wurzels songs a little too loud and got some very funny looks. Very enjoyable breakfast all the same; much appreciated, Nick! After that, Wednesday morning was quite dull on the registration desk. All the action was taking place downstairs with this Josef Kollar bloke playing Rummikub in the bath, but that was rather a non-event as he only played one game (and that wasn't even in the tournament) before getting out. Most of the events on Wednesday had started on Monday or Tuesday so there was very little activity on the registration desk, so I could get on with the other job I had volunteered for; last year, there was a daily MSO 'zinelet with all the latest results in and a few interviews with the bigger names. I got the first couple of issues in person and then followed the progress of the rest of the week by watching these 4-page 'zines being placed on the Web each day. That had apparently taken a fair amount of time, money and manpower so it wasn't being repeated this year. However, I said that it seemed a shame that the results weren't going out to the world while the event was going on and volunteered to produce some Web pages each day with the results on. This was time-consuming but fairly easy; I produced extremely simple pages but David Bodycombe back in Norbiton had just bought a copy of Front Page 98 and was keen to try it out, turning basic tables into something much prettier. David can play Front Page 98 like he's ringing a bell. This was a useful service which picked up a few easy Brownie points (the directors who I showed the page to were impressed enough) but not as good as it could have been because the MSO folk had tied their Web pages up onto a system where there was a Ѓ100 flat fee every time you uploaded something to the server - even if it's just a few Web pages. We came to a compromise where they uploaded one new web page to the MSO site, which featured a link to my own Web page, upon which we put the daily updates. Quite a neat compromise (we got something like 1,000 extra visits to the Web page as a direct result of it) except that the link to my page didn't go up until Saturday - so we were updating the pages faithfully every day from Monday to Friday only for nobody to be able to see them. Aagh! Wednesday afternoon was better, featuring the second half (three more games) of Entropy, and I managed to win two of them (though the first was because my dopey opponent ran out of time and the second was because my other opponent decided he would do better by resigning and concentrating on the chess event he was winning upstairs). I had a good chat to my opponents and managed to talk both Hassabis brothers into taking part in my Settlers of Catan card game event the next day (despite Demis having only ever played the game once before and George not at all) on the grounds that it would probably be fairly easy Pentamind points for them. I also managed to talk Lucy Broomfield into playing on exactly the same grounds; Lucy was a bright (and rather fit) 18-year-old Cockney girl primarily here for the Rotary Club's national junior chess championship "Terafinal" (the concept of a final being devalued nowadays; the Rotary Club called local events Megafinals, regional events Gigafinals and the national, er, final a Terafinal) but doing a bit of Entropy and a bit of Draughts and a bit of this and that throughout the week as well. She was also the one who had won the junior draughts bronze medal but had given it back because she wasn't a junior any more. You notice how my Wednesday report was shorter than my Tuesday report and that was shorter than my Monday one? I had been faithfully keeping a report of all the funny (well, perhaps you had to be there) things that had happened each day; it filled a page on Monday, half a page on Tuesday and the rest of the week onto the same sheet. Thursday had less comedy still, but probably because I wasn't on the desk. Instead I was running the Siedler card game contest downstairs; three people had signed up for the event before the Olympiad and I had managed to talk another three into it as above. The three prior entrants were Ben and Mick Haytack, who had boned up on the game just to make sure they knew what they were doing, and a David Gatherel, who had only ever played the board game but thought he would be likely to enjoy the card game too. Lucy revealed on Thursday morning that she had signed up expecting the board game, but I talked her into giving the card game a try; given that there was only one game of experience outside the Haytacks, I thought I could predict the outcome of the tournament in advance fairly well. In the end, I started two games off; Ben Haytack against Lucy Broomfield and Mick Haytack against David Gatherel. These ended up being teach-ins at least as much as competitive events as Ben and Mick explained what to do and showed how to win. The Hassabis brothers had double-booked themselves into playing Stratego for both Thursday sessions and Friday morning, but fitted the George vs. Demis game in on the Thursday morning in between the three Stratego sessions (Demis won handily while he taught his brother how to play - another teach-in, really). Lucy hadn't really enjoyed her game but I convinced her to give it another try against Mick (who beat her 12-4) but quick learner David surprised Ben with a win. While this was going on, Ray Keene came over to take a look to see what was going on. He was curious to know whether Catan was based on a real place or not, because he recognised it as the name of a planet from Star Trek. Ray Keene is apparently a Star Trek fan because he likes the way they solve problems in it. Fair enough! Lucy wanted to drop out after two rounds and I didn't particularly want to make her keep playing if she didn't want to so I let her off the hook and gave the other players wins by default over her (using a complicated averaging system to assess a score for her against them should it be needed in the second tie-break). It had reached lunchtime and I had got pretty sick of the way the tournament had gone with two players taking part in something else and another one player dropping out. The only other match I could stage was between Ben and Mick Haytack; Ben had beaten his Dad the first time the two had played, but had never beaten him since. Wouldn't you know it, when it came to the tournament, Ben was able to surprise his Dad with the 2-VP Colossus of Catan to take a 12-10 win. After that, I decided to abandon the afternoon session so that the Hassabises could concentrate on their Stratego and so the Haytacks could look round London. Also at lunchtime, I met up with Alan Parr and Mike Siggins for conversations at the bar. I think Mike was reasonably impressed with what he saw and is hopeful that we can get more interesting hobby-type games played at the MSO in the future; Alan, however, familiar with last year's event, had his hopes rather dashed and gave a highly negative (but entirely fair) review of the event within Hopscotch. I also discussed the history of United with Alan for a piece I wrote for Flagship magazine and bought a copy of Alan's "What's Your Game?" textbook of game rules. (Very interesting... all good fodder for the imagination.) It was great to see them all there and I only wish there could have been more hobby members around all week. The only other ones I saw were Martin Burroughs who popped in on Saturday lunchtime and Keith Loveys, but more on him later... Thursday evening saw a difficult journey home. Someone had parked a suspicious-looking vehicle too close to Putney Bridge, so the tube journey back from Earl's Court to Wimbledon was curtailed at Parson's Green. There was no realistic hope of getting a bus from there at about nine o'clock so in the end I joined three strangers who had hopped into a taxi that had conveniently popped up just opposite the tube station and quoted a suspiciously round unmetered Ѓ20 fee for one cab-load to Wimbledon. Not ideal, but the choices were liking it and lumping it and it only ended up adding half an hour to the journey. Holy two-parters, Batman! Will Chris make it back home alive? Will the Settlers competiition run to a proper conclusion? Will they ever announce the results of the Puzzle Design contest? And just what would have Mark Stretch done to me if I had tried to submit a single con report eleven pages long in one go? Find out the answers to all these questions next issue in the exciting (no, honest, really) conclusion to the Mind Sports Olympiad con report - the con report that just wouldn't die... So what are you World Champion of this year? - continued... The story so far: Chris has ran half a tournament at the Mind Sports Olympiad of the Die Siedler Von Catan card game, only for the lunatics to take over the asylum and for the six players (from the hobby, Ben and Mick Haytack; David Gatherel; the prodigious yet personable Demis and George Hassabis; Lucy Broomfield [fit, 18 y.o.] who dropped out after two games) to decide which order to play the all-play-all matches in. Chris scratched together a few puzzles for the Puzzle Design contest on Monday; we left the story last time after Thursday night, with still no knowledge of how the Settlers turned out. Chris is also providing some Web pages every day with the latest MSO results on, only for nobody to be able to look at them. So far, so... er... "good"? Friday saw day two of the Settlers event, with both Haytacks and David Gatherel due to play both Hassabises in the six matches remaining. The Hassabis bros. were Stratego-ing again in the morning (and not terribly successfully, either) and fitted one game of Settlers each in-between during the morning, then we agreed to start the afternoon session at 2pm as opposed to the more usual 4pm to sort the event out once and for all. We had a couple of games without interruption by players taking part in other events (!) at lunchtime and got the last round of games underway; David Gatherel, first to finish (on two wins, one over Ben Haytack and one over Lucy who had decided to learn bridge and play in the Novice Pairs taking the meaning of the word "novice" to extremes), decided to take part in the Friday afternoon Stratego event, which was the second World Team Championship - a round-robin between teams of four from Holland, Belgium, Germany and the UK. Holland, co-ordinated in orange baseball caps, managed to win 11 of their 12 games and draw the twelfth in order to defend their title; the UK, who, not to be outdone in the headwear stakes, fashioned improvised bishops' mitres out of folded copies of The Times, came last, losing all twelve games. The final two Kartenspiel games were between Ben Haytack (who had beaten Lucy and his Dad but had lost to Demis and David) and George (who had lost to brother Demis but had surprisingly beaten Mick as well as David and Lucy by walk-over) and between Mick (with wins over Lucy and David only) and Demis (who had, sensationally, beaten everyone so far). George won quite convincingly despite having only 4 of the 9 villages to guarantee himself at least the silver medal with a final record of 4/5 and Ben finished on 2/5. Mick and Demis had the last game to finish; Demis had to score at least 6 VPs in order to win the gold (even if he lost the game) and Mick had to score at least 8 VPs in order to win the bronze. Half-way through the game, though, they suddenly had the bright idea that they both fancied giving the poker tournament a try; as they were the only ones left playing Settlers and so wouldn't be holding anyone else up they managed to twist my arm and let them postpone their game until they got knocked out of the poker. Poker was a real success for the MSO in what they called the World Amateur Championships. There were two tables of six or seven players at the start, taking part in a game where each player started off with 200 chips; the chips had no cash value, hence the amateur stipulation. Every 30 (later 20) minutes, the stakes rose higher and higher and players were gradually eliminated. They held five poker contests like this, one each afternoon, every day a different version of poker, and Friday's was the rough, tough-sounding Texas Hold-Em. My old mate Dan Glimne was acting as arbiter, having played poker all around the world and won a number of tournaments (the fact that he's 6'4", built like a lumberjack and paid for his college education by working as a nightclub bouncer probably helped too). Demis had never played poker before in his life and Mick hadn't done so for money so I fancied that even with Demis' remarkable aptitude for picking up new games the pair of them wouldn't last too long. How wrong I was; oh, how wrong I was. Demis lasted at least two hours, when the two tables, being down to four players apiece, were merged to form one final table. He gambled all his chips on one hand and won but came unstuck trying it a second time. Meanwhile, Mick had apparently gone all-in in the same fashion twice but survived each time. I came and watched the table from a position when Mick was a strong second out of the final six players; there was a universe of 2600 chips (all chips below 100 in value now being deemed too nancy to bother with) between the six, split roughly 1000 to the leader, 800 to Mick and the rest between the other four. The stakes were forced to be high (blinds - compulsory bets whose obligations rotate around the table - of 100 and 200) and the minnows were soon forced out. So it was down to Mick and the other bloke when the blinds rose to 200 and 500. Usually, one of them would play and the other would immediately fold, a stray 500 ping-ponging between the two, as a crowd of almost twenty watched. The crucial hand came about when there were three communal hearts and Mick's poorer opponent stuck his last 800 chips in on it. Mick was able to match the bet with coins to spare and proved to have the better hand, being crowned the World Amateur Texas Hold-Em Champion! All mightily impressive and great fun to watch (though I wouldn't fancy my chances playing) but it ran on a bit and meant that the Demis vs. Mick Settlers match didn't get finished in time to meet the 8pm deadline. The only consequence was that they missed having the Settlers medals distributed at the big Friday night medal ceremony. In fact, Demis was able to save enough to be able to pay for the Colossus of Catan very quickly and won by a margin of 12-7, so Mick was squeezed out of third place by David on the tie-breaker of closeness of the defeats suffered. Mick went on-stage to collect his poker gold medal (or, rather, to be promised a poker medal, for numbers were running short) only to be followed by his wife Sheena who had matched the golden achievement in the ladies' pairs bridge! (Mick has since given a fuller, more interesting account of the poker and his Siedler games within "Bloodstock" - I recommend you ask for a copy.) That was Friday. Saturday saw me back on the registration desk all day because of the vast number of events taking place at the weekend, not least the final of The Times' Crossword Puzzle Solving championships with a scheduled entry of 500. Saturday morning saw a couple of interesting events take place, the Decamentathlon and the Creative Thinking World Championship. The Decamentathlon was a four-hour exam featuring problems set in ten different abstract games and mental skills (well, the first one being a gruelling memory test to warm up; "here's a shuffled pack of cards. You've got five minutes to memorise what order the cards are in. Oh, and when you've done that, you've got another five minutes to learn this 96-digit number off by heart"); the Creative Thinking event saw contestants face four half-hour exams with half-hour marking breaks in between. I had convinced David Bodycombe to try the Creative Thinking event because he might enjoy it and it's the sort of thing he's good at. The first paper of the four inquired what the consequences would be of the discovery of a sea of chocolate on the moon and invited contestants to come up with as many convincing excuses as possible for being exactly 17 minutes late for a secret mission; the second was a perverted intelligence test ("What is the next item in the sequence and why? G, G, G, G, G, _"; "Which is the odd one out and why? A, E, H, I, O, U" - spot the inspiration for Fictionary Odd One Out; "If 174863 is the answer, what is the question?"); the third listed half a dozen news stories spooky but apparently unconnected things taking place all around the world at the same time and competitors were requested to compose a convincing X-Files-style explanation as to how they were all linked, leading to one of the competitors uttering the classic line "Oh God, I've forgotten the dog shit" on realising he had forgotten to refer to a faecal element of the conspiracy in his tale; the fourth showed two pictures of inventions that didn't catch on and asked what the inventions were and why they didn't prove popular. All suitably perverted, being set and examined by Bill Hartston, the chess and creativity correspondent of the Independent, who defected (along with editor Rosie Boycott) to the Express half-way through MSO week. bill gollum hartsssssston, as he ought to be known by people who saw him teach chess to a nation of unsuspecting kiddies on the "Play Chess" series that used to be cranked out every summer holiday, marked the papers in the morning; the top five of the twenty-some entries all scored within a couple of points of each other and indeed the gold and silver medalists were only split by the tie-breaker of highest score on any one part of the paper. Alas, the silver winner squeezed out in this way was David Bodycombe, tied on 86% with winner Bruce Birchall, a point ahead of Rhodes scholar, speed-reading champion and bronze medalist Lana Israel with last year's winner in fourth place. Still, an unexpected bonus for David when his medal was awarded at the Saturday lunchtime medal ceremony and something to grace any CV! The Settlers medals were also presented at that session, only for all three winners to be taking part in other events and unable to pick up their gongs. "The Settlers of Catan must have decamped", Ray Keene ad-libbed. Also being presented at Saturday lunchtime were the puzzle design and solution medals; I was gratified to pick up a bronze medal for puzzle design. David got the silver, again unfortunate not to win the gold; if he had submitted a different selection of puzzles, ones aiming to provide a more sustained challenge, then he would have been given the gold, according to the jury's chairwoman. Instead the gold medal went to a gentleman from Japan who had sent his puzzles in some time ago. Furthermore, I believe his puzzles were all of the "here's a complicated shape; use one line to split it into two identical pieces" traditional format. Still, now we know what sort of thing they're looking for, we ought to be able to give them just what they want next year! Saturday afternoon was spent updating Web pages and helping on the registration desk. It was also spent chatting with Lucy Broomfield (who you may recall was the young lady who had returned her incorrectly awarded bronze junior draughts medal and also the same young lady who took part in my Settlers card game event only to drop out after two rounds) who had used her not inconsiderable charm and feminine wiles to nab a spare copy of "Boggle" from one of the stalls and was trying to persuade me to buy it from her. I agreed to send her a copy of my book in return for the game. I suppose I had better write to her and let her know about the delays. Perhaps I ought to send her a copy of GIT... then again, maybe not... Saturday afternoon also witnessed a couple of the ugliest events of the week. First off was someone who hadn't realised that the backgammon contest they had entered was a knock-out format and had been unpleasantly surprised by a demand for an extra Ѓ15 tournament re-entry fees after a first round defeat. The second came in the marking for the decamentathlon; the big surprise was that gaming polymath and nice guy Demis Hassabis had finished out of the medals, the gold (and accompanying round-the-world 'plane ticket prize) being won by Keith Loveys. In fact, I was the person who had given Demis the news of his poor finish and he was rather taken aback. He thought he hadn't done well, but surely not that badly? He had a convincing lead in the Pentamind event (the game of games - score points by performing well in five different games throughout the week) but he had set himself the target of winning both Pentamind and Decamentathlon - victories in both, he reasoned, would be enough to be able to crown himself World Games Champion with an unbeaten demonstration of his remarkable versatility. One out of two just would not do. Saturday afternoon also saw bill gollum hartsssssston put his not inconsiderable creativity skills to good use by charming the (also rather fit) PAs in the press office into fits of laughter with appalling puns as to songs that might be played at the MSO; "Don't you Oware 'bout a thing", "I chess called to say I love you", "Building a bridge to your heart", "Shogi the way to go home" and "Cool for skats" being the level things had descended to. So what are you World Champion of this year? - part 6,537 Early on Saturday evening, the full scores breakdown came out for the Decamentathlon and the shocking news was that Demis had scored 0/100 on the IQ tenth of the test - surely an error? It transpired that he hadn't written his name on the IQ test part of his answers paper, which is why they hadn't awarded him a score for the section. Demis then put in a formal appeal by the agreed but never-previously-invoked appeals procedure and much of the next hour was spent with finding arbiters, independent opinions and some fierce argument of the toss. Only one IQ paper had had no name on it, which had clearly belonged to Demis, but should he be awarded the points for that section? After rather a heated discussion involving at least three of the MSO directors at some point or another, Demis was awarded the points. Some might say that this was justice being done; others would accuse him of relentlessly arguing his way to a medal. Even so, they were only enough to earn him a silver medal (might this have affected the final decision?); Keith Loveys had finished some twenty or thirty points clear and was duly awarded the gold and the 'plane ticket at the evening session. The Saturday evening medal ceremony was also dubious for one other reason - the non-presentation of the Backgammon for Beginners junior medals. For some reason, both senior and junior results to the event were out of the results folder and unavailable at the exact moment when the medals needed to be presented. The culprit was the bloke who had borrowed them to type them up for the Web page. David Levy came over, perturbed, and said "Chris, you've got ten seconds to find me those results"; I proudly showed him the senior results on the Web page within eight, but I hadn't typed the junior results up and they weren't available just when they were needed. Ray Keene, on the house mic, stalled for time by reading out some of the funnier entries in the Creative Thinking, but the results just wouldn't appear. Rather embarrassingly, they had to admit the junior results had been misplaced. Naturally, they turned up a minute and a half after the medal ceremony finished. It was a definite blot on the copybook and immediately instituted some new procedures as to who was to have posession of the results at all times. After a couple of minutes of red mist, they said the whole matter had been forgiven and forgotten, but it was a black mark all the same. I didn't feel so good on Saturday night. Sunday saw a rather knackered Dickson turn up early as usual in the knowledge that today was to be an easy end to the week, having signed up for the "learn and play new games" session. I knew that I probably wasn't quite flavour of the day after last night's faux pas. Indeed, Tony Corfe even took me outside and had a word, albeit a very polite one; I had rather got in the way last night and had given the impression that I was trying to make everything revolve around me - relaying news to and fro between Demis and the directors about the Decamentathlon and the latest scores in the Pentamind when they would perhaps have rather have dealt with the situation in their own way and in their own time. Entirely fair criticism on retrospect, but that didn't make it easier to take. An attack of overenthusiasm, certainly; I had wanted to make myself as indispensable as possible - and I had had this write-up in GIT in mind all the time. It's certainly a lot more warts-and-all than any of the others that exist - and I don't think I'll be distributing it on the Web for all to see... Furthermore, another of my habits had irritated Tony throughout the week and he wanted to bring it to my attention. Whenever someone asked someone else a question within my earshot and I thought I knew the answer, I piped up even if it wasn't a question directed at me. Quite a revelation - I had to say I was shocked and noticed myself doing it subconsciously a few times later in the day. Helpful? Irritating? Well, I wasn't aware of it before and now I was. The only time anything like that had happened to me before was at a parents' evening at junior school when my (female) teacher informed my parents that I used to wipe my nose by rubbing it up the teacher's arm when I was looking over her shoulder while she marked my work. All rather embarrassing, but I suppose it's best to know that you do these things rather than everyone talking about it behind my back. I'm grateful, I guess, to Tony for telling me, though it made it a rather hard Sunday to get through. Tony was brilliant all week, though, never losing his head or his temper despite being asked questions at a ridiculous rate in a wide number of subjects. In fact, he stayed back overnight typing in the details and pulled an all-nighter on at least two days in the week. If there's a job available with the Corfe family firm then I'm going to apply for it on the strength of Tony's qualities as a boss. Seriously! So I spent a rather desperate hour keeping my head down on the registration desk in the morning checking the last bunch of people through between 9am and 10am before making a break downstairs for the "learn and play new games" day. A bonus was that I managed to talk Lucy into taking part in the "learn and play new games" session and with her came her brother and a gaggle of assorted pre-pubescent chess superstars who she was friendly with from the tournament chess circuit. The games teach-ins were eight half-hour sessions of mixed quality - frankly, there are not a lot of games that are apt to be taught by the method of a single half-hour lecture. Some of the lecturers were better than others; David Pritchard gave a good account of the flavour and appeal of Lines of Action as well as just teaching the rules; the Go demonstrator actually started to convey to me a sense of why lots of people whose opinions I respect are so crazy about the game; the president of the Carrom federation put on quite a good show and it was one of the most game-like games present, so most fun to dabble with, but for some of the other games like Cribbage, Entropy, Mastermind and Stratego, you can explain the rules and demonstrate a game in progress, but... er... that's about it. So what are you World Champion of this year? - part 9,481 We had a choice of all the games that had been demonstrated in the morning to be played in a formal tournament in the afternoon, but feeling wild and crazy (and not particularly over-awed by any of the games demonstrated) we agreed to have a completely new game demonstrated to us in the afternoon for the tournament. This turned out to be one of David Parlett's many and varied card games - in fact, one I had read about in his book of original card games that I thought was so good I hired it out of the library twice at ten-year intervals. Despite being able to remember the tips about how to play the game properly, I managed to lose all five games of it I played in the afternoon, mainly because I wasn't concentrating hard at all and all the opponents were. Being a two-player abstract game (in fact, originally called "Abstrac", though more prosaically and descriptively being renamed "Lift-Off!" for the event), it relied on concentration and thinking ahead, not my strong points - especially not after an exhausting week of 11-plus-hour working days and travel on top. So I basicallly spent Sunday chatting up Lucy. She is 18, she enjoys games, she's a bit good at chess, she said that she was going to go and see some friends to learn how to play Civilization and Diplomacy (but we can forgive that), she's interested in my puzzles and puzzle book, she's got a good sense of humour and, best of all, she's about to embark on a degree course at Durham University - less than an hour up the road. "A young lady worth getting to know", thought I, so I did, when her coterie of chess pals with whom we were playing Carom weren't distracting her. Then she mentioned, in passing, her boyfriend, who's doing mathematics at Girton College (he reckons he's going to get a third - ha! - though she thinks he'll get a first because he's so clever). He's very clever, he's very good at chess (BCF 200+), he's very nice, he's very quiet and looks good. The two of them met at a chess tournament. So, in this way, Miss Lucy Broomfield, who I had previously mentally pegged as Fit Lucy, became Lucy. I need to write her a letter to explain the delay in the puzzle book and I may send her a copy of the MSO write-up I did for G3 but she hasn't made it to the GIT distribution list for some reason - pulling subzine or no. Most apt exchange of the day, while playing Carom; Lucy, less than serious - "My life is so terrible..." Me, deadpan - "So why don't you end it?" It got rather a black laugh. It's not fair! If some Cambridge chess nerd can pull a diamond like Lucy at a chess con, why can't someone with a taste for games slightly more interesting than tic-tac-toe meet someone similarly attractive - and more importantly, unattached - at a games bash? It ought to be possible, so why doesn't it happen? Oh, don't mind me. And if you ever see me on the pull at a con again, feel free to take the mick out of me until I stop. (What's that? You felt free to do that already? Oh.) Please sign your next set of orders off with "You really ought to get out more, Chris"; maybe I'll pay attention to it if it comes from a friend. ;-) That was pretty much the Mind Sports Olympiad. After the "Learn and play new games" day finished, I helped upstairs, keeping a very low profile. Even so, I heard about the Decamentathlon cock-up; they had discovered that they had marked another paper incorrectly, ignoring Dario DiToffoli's correctly-signed Othello paper. When they added up again; oops, terribly sorry, you should have come first, Dario. They magicked up another world air ticket for him from somewhere, though I don't know whether it involved taking the one which they had awarded with a gold medal to Keith Loveys off him or not. (I'd be quite curious to know, actually. Keith?) I don't know whether they juggled around the medals awarded in the Decamentathlon to suit, either, though I know there's the correct result on my Web page - which might be news to Keith... There was a last big medal ceremony, at which I helped by finding the medals they had left spare and working out which ones they could give to winners who would otherwise miss out, and the closing ceremony, which consisted of another move on the rolling Mind Sports Olympiad chess game. (Every Olympiad opening ceremony consists of a move for the white pieces made by one of the directors, and every closing ceremony consists of a move for the black pieces made by the winner of the chess tournament or any other grandmaster who happens to be on hand. Goodness knows what happens when this game comes to a conclusion; it would have been embarrassing but amusing if the white pieces had lost to a fools' mate in two moves, but sadly it's still anybody's match and looks set to be that way for at least another fifty years.) Lots of emotional goodbyes, distribution of business cards (or distribution of CVs in my case because I don't have any business cards) and that's it for MSO '98. MSO '99 is scheduled for a bigger venue and 9 days instead of 7 (August 21st-29th) because there are, Tony Buzan stated with possibly a little too much confidence, going to be between 4,000 and 6,000 competitors. (Strictly, entrants, so Demis Hassabis entering 14 events counts 14 towards that total.) Can't fault them for effort and enthusiasm, I suppose. All the amateur indications to the untutored eye are that without a big-money sponsor like Skandia last year, MSO 2 will have made a hefty loss. Given that the average competitor probably entered three events, and there's a rule that you can enter as many events as you like (say, if you're taking part in Pentamind) for a Ѓ50 flat fee, I don't think they can have taken more than about Ѓ30,000 in entrance fees. Granted, the prizes weren't an expense this year, because there basically weren't prizes, but the Novotel can't have been cheap to hire for the week and I'm not convinced that they would have been able to tap the sponsors for that much money. They had some vendors erect stalls, though not as many as last year, and, curiously, no Chart International - quite an omission after Chart had got such good publicity by putting the MSO programme on a copy of G3. As Alan Parr put it, it's a sign that they couldn't even get Jack Jaffe to turn up and flog his games this year; my suspicion, though, was that he would have been busy at work on a sequel to "Save The President" incorporating the latest news. "Shag The President", maybe? So what are you World Champion of this year? - conclusion Did I enjoy the Mind Sports Olympiad? I enjoyed lots of parts of it. I enjoyed the atmosphere and ceremony of the occasion, albeit pompous, strained and pretentious. I enjoyed running a tournament there, despite only having half a dozen entrants who were basically running it for me to please themselves. I enjoyed helping on the reception desk, even though it was terribly dull at times. I enjoyed participating in the tournaments, even though I got stuffed. Most of all, though, I enjoyed the company; not only is it always very enjoyable indeed to see the Haytacks, Alan Parr, Mike Siggins, Martin Burroughs and Keith Loveys, there was also a clientele totally different to that of an ordinary games con - and not nearly as much fun - but somehow it was enjoyable being in these faux-elevated, egotistic surroundings, getting to meet all sorts of people, making interesting and useful contacts. Despite everything, I think I've managed to come out slightly to the good in the directors' eyes (until they get to see this, ha!); indeed, one rang up just this morning, asked me to print out all the pages of a Web site, and invited me to submit an invoice for whatever I thought was a fair charge. Er, OK! What didn't I enjoy? Being Chris Dickson was really the only complaint. Is the Mind Sports Olympiad worth supporting next year? HELL YES. Now there may well be the not-so-faint traces of incompetence running throughout (no cash prizes; spectators having to pay with there being very little fun for them to have; events mysteriously being cancelled - the Pub Quiz was a disaster despite having people like former Mastermind champions turning up, the Business Game didn't take place, at least four advertised events were cancelled due to lack of interest; still a feel that this is really a great big chess congress with half a bridge tournament tacked on and a few weirdo competitions in games that nobody really plays), it's the best thing that we've got going. The Haytack family had a ball there, though for completely different reasons to the ones they expected when they turned up; if there had been more hobby folk there, then surely it would have even been better for us all. If hobby folk turn up and are keen to give their money to the MSO, then the MSO cannot afford (literally) to neglect the hobby contingent in future years, and the best way to do this is to involve people in tournaments friendlier to the hobby. Bear in mind, though, that the number of people in our side of the hobby is a drop in the ocean compared to the number of chess-players in the country; possibly comparable to, say, the number of tournament Othello players. If you count up the raw numbers of tournaments and attendees, we're a long way behind Scrabble and backgammon. At the moment... Is it subvertible so that it's more to our tastes? Tricky one. I have half a feeling that the future of Diplomacy at the MSO is completely scuppered - though I can see (and have a great degree of sympathy with) Toby Harris' reasons for cancelling the event. But who cares about Dip anyway? Settlers with its half-dozen entrants was hardly a success story but the people who matter know my face and my name, so a proposal to run a Settlers board game tournament at the MSO next year - and, more to the point, with someone with some expertise and some knowledge of how the MSO works at the helm - might be received more favourably. I think we can be hopeful about a snowball effect taking place and the emphasis shifting further to our tastes; one way of looking at it is that they can't afford to eliminate a potential sector of their clientele - the hobby games sector. Then again, we shouldn't get carried away because we are only one sector of the potential audience and not a big one. If we get a number of hobby people turning up at, say, the poker and board game Settlers next year, if they enjoy themselves and spread the word, then in five years' time we might have something really worthwhile unimaginable in the current ethos of what are really fairly small-time cons. So I hope to see more of you at the Mind Sports Olympiad next year. This assumes that there is one next year, which is a big assumption. I reckon Tony Buzan saying "We expect 4,000 - 6,000 entrants next year" means that if they don't get 4,000 - 6,000 entrants then it isn't going to go ahead. I also reckon they have in mind that if they can run one more MSO in London then they can consider running it abroad in future years which is where the gravy train will really start to roll as suckers from cities all around the world offer hefty sums of cash for the privilege of taking on all the hassle of organising a MSO. (I mean, which group of self-respecting illuminati wouldn't want to host the Mind Sports Olympiad for the year 2000? Furthermore, if they were to hold one at, say, Essen, wouldn't that be a mouth-watering option?) It strikes me that this is at least the fourth con that I've exhorted you to attend next year as being unmissable - OxCon, StabCon and ManorCon being the other three; indeed, the only cons I've attended and not raved about have been RamsdenCon and MidCon, both of which have substantial audiences for whom they are the #1 con of the year. This is because I do enjoy cons a great deal, finding it the best way (the only way?) to meet new people and play games against them. Blimey, I do need to get out more, don't I? 3456дежзx y z { х ц ч ш ­ЎЏАъ№abcdЛМНО ЁЂјёьчтнигЮЩФПКЕАЋІЁœ—’Œ‡‚}xsnid_ZU ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]^a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c U]^a c U]^a c!Ђнопр‚#ƒ#„#…#ј(љ(њ(ћ(“*”*•*–*$/%/&/'/X4Y4Z4[4\4б7в7г7д7A=B=C=D=њѕ№ыцсмзвЭШУОЙДЏЊЅ ›–‘Œ‡‚}xsnid_Z ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c!D=qArAsAtACDDDEDFDFLœLLžLŸL LЁLЂL’Q“Q”Q•Q§UўUџUVZZZZЩ]Ъ]Ы]Ь])aњѕ№ыцсмзвЭШУОЙДЏЊЅ ›–‘Œ‡‚}xsnid_Z ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c!)a*a+a,a‘c’c“c”c‚eƒeЏeВeОeПeРeСeКhЛhМhНhЈmЉmЊmЋmqqrqЗqИqЙqКqЩuЪuЫuњѕ№ыцслеЯШТЛДЏЊЄŸš•‹†|wrmhc^YT ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c V]a c ]a c ]a c U]^a c U]^a c U]a c U]^a c V]a c V]a c V]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ЫuЬuШzЩzЪzЫzы}}~~~~f‚g‚h‚i‚ƒ‡„‡…‡†‡”‹•‹–‹—‹Ž‘Ž’Ž“Žd‘e‘f‘g‘)”-”™—š—њѕ№ыцслжбЬЧТНИГЎЉЄŸš•‹†|wrmhb]X ]a c ]a c ]^a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c V]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c!š—›—Ч—Ъ—д—е—ж—з—nœoœpœqœƒЁ„Ё…Ё†ЁТЅУЅФЅХЅ-Ћ.Ћ/Ћ0Ћ)А*А+А,А-АYА\АfАњѓэцпкеаЫЦСМЗВ­ЈЃž™”Š…€{vqle_X U]^a c U]a c U]^a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c U]^a c U]^a c U]a c U]^a c ]a cfАgАhАiАžДŸД ДЁД%К&К'К(КЃМЄМЅМІМыПьПэПюПєФѕФіФїФбШмШЃЩЄЩаЩгЩнЩоЩпЩјѓющфпкеаЫЦСМЗВ­ЈЃž™”Š…zunhaZU ]a c U]^a c U]^a c U]a c U]^a c ]a c ]a c V]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c U]^a c пЩрЩ•Ю–Ю—Ю˜ЮпЮрЮсЮтЮТдУдФдХд|ж†жТйУйФйХйпоросотоьоюо пппњѕ№ыцсмзвЭШУОЙГЎЉЄŸš•‹†€{ws]a ]a  ]a c V]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c V]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c ]a c‚ўџџџўџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџџ45ежy z ц ч ЎЏbcМНЁопƒ#„#љ(њ(”*•*%/љєяъхрлжбЬЧТНИГЎЉЄŸš•‹†№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№%/&/Y4Z4[4в7г7B=C=rAsADDEDLžLŸL LЁL“Q”QўUџUZZЪ]њѕ№ыцсмзвЭШУОЙДЏЊЅ ›–‘Œ‡№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№Ъ]Ы]*a+a’c“cƒeПeРeЛhМhЉmЊmrqИqЙqЪuЫuЩzЪz~~g‚h‚„‡…‡њѕ№ыцслжбЬЧТНИГЎЉЄŸš•‹†№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№…‡•‹–‹‘Ž’Že‘f‘š—›—е—ж—oœpœ„Ё…ЁУЅФЅ.Ћ/Ћ*А+А,А-АgАњѕ№ыцсмзбЬЧТНИГЎЉЄŸš•Š№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№gАhАŸД Д&К'КЄМЅМьПэПѕФіФЄЩоЩпЩ–Ю—ЮрЮсЮУдФдУйФйросоњѕ№ыцсмзвЭШУНИГЎЉЄŸš•‹†№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№№соппњѕ№№пpпxмџџџџџџџџ!љK@ёџNormala "A@ђџЁ"Default Paragraph Fontаџ@ўџ џџџџ РFMicrosoft Word 6.0 Document MSWordDocє9Вq