The King has fallen

The story of the last 15 years is a fascinating account of how one man took a sport to great heights, exploiting the benefits of liberalisation, pushing the envelope way beyond the 64 squares. Till the law — in the form of the Madras High Court — brought him back to earth.

Ironically, Koya’s rise was assisted by Manuel Aaron, one of the litigants in the High Court case against him. Aaron was AICF secretary but opted out of the 1989 elections as he had a lucrative coaching offer in the UAE. His plan was to give Koya — who was famous for carrying his bag everywhere — one term, return from Dubai and resume the reins.

Some hope. Koya — who calls himself a self-taught orphan — understood his future depended on Aaron’s ouster so he formed his own clique and moved away from the Tamil Nadu gang then ruling Indian chess. Aaron returned to find himself — and his unpopular TN gang — sidelined completely.

In December 1990, AICF president Dhruv Sahwney managed to get India’s only truly super GM event to India (Triveni GM tournament). It made Koya realise that bigger events meant bigger money. He had already opted to host Anand’s first world championship match (against Alexey Dreev in Chennai in January 1991) and held the World juniors in 1993 in Kozhikode.

He also realised soon enough that big corporate sponsors were more particular, less flexible about accounts so he turned to state governments. It was a brilliant, though simple plan: His local tournaments in Kozhikode would be attended by the Excise commissioners, Income Tax Commissioners, Magistrates as chief guests. The symbiosis could only be good for him — and, by extension, for Indian chess, which was in its first stages of awakening.

This, despite the fact that IT giants like WIPRO and NIIT kept away from tournaments after showing initial interest, preferring instead to focus on individual players.

All this while Koya’s clout and control was growing, helped by the unremarkable fact that state associations were weak. He relied on the time-trusted measure of doles and sops — a junket here, a tournament there — to keep people in line.

Soon his fame spread outside India, his clout grew in direct proportion to India’s emergence as a global chess power, his strength measured against every IM or GM turned out. On the one hand he named one son after Nigel Short, on the other he tweaked an existing ratings system and named it after himself.

Becoming vice-president of Fide — he’s now in his third term — and head of the Commonwealth Chess Association was a short distance away.

However, even as sharp a practitioner as Koya would overstep the limit. That happened last June, when he imposed a 10 per cent cut on all the money won by prize-winners in domestic competitions. The reason cited was the AICF’s paucity of funds but it looked a bit strange given the long list of fees charges by the federation for every tournament, and by the slew of frivolous expenses it incurred.

Today he stands suspended from all his important posts, domestic and international. But only the naive would count him out for the long run. Check, maybe; not yet mate.

THE LEGAL GRID

THE CASE
Petitions filed by TN, Delhi, Maharashtra associations sought restraint against koya from acting in AICF, C’Wealth and FIDE capacities

THE CHARGES
Many illegal acts of omission and commission including:
• 10 per cent cut in prize money for players on grounds of financial crisis, though AICF OKd at the same time a Hall of Fame with Rs 25,000 monthly rent
• Siphoning off funds by wearing many hats at the same time (secretary, magazine editor, webmaster)
• Claiming TA/DA bills of Rs 8 lakh, saying he travels 350 days a year, but also claiming Rs 96,000 in local travel expenses

THE VERDICT
Interim order restraining Koya from carrying out AICF, FIDE and C’wealth duties