When I arrived in Genoa, Italy, in August of 1998, little did I know that I was about to meet someone who would become a tremendous supporter of Irish Chess, not to mention a cherished friend. There were no other English speakers at the tournament in Genoa. So, it only took a round or two before Gavin Wall and I became aware of each other and struck up a conversation. While I was on the hunt for an IM norm and taking chess very seriously at the time, Gavin had an entirely different approach. He had never played in Italy before and was curious about the famous port city from where Christopher Columbus hailed. He had found a ridiculously cheap flight from London - a special talent that he would to good use down the years - and as I would soon learn – there could be no resisting the temptation to visit a new place, play some chess and meet some new chess friends. It didn't matter to Gavin whether he spoke the language or knew anyone else playing. Gavin's spirit of adventure overrode any and all practical concerns and, not for the first or last time, he took a punt and hopped on a plane to a destination unknown and a new culture. This openness and bravery was an oft-repeated theme in Gavin's life and led him to have many adventures and meet many like-minded chess players across the length and breadth of Europe.

You only needed to be in Gavin's company for a couple of hours to realise how free and content he was as a player and human being. I have rarely in fact met someone who was so comfortable in their own skin and capable of living in the moment. While I was preparing for each of my games in Genoa, Gavin was chilling out and exploring the city. I was amazed at how relaxed he was. He had no computer, no books. He just turned up and played and looked forward to finding out what might happen on the board. I would soon learn that he played the same offbeat openings all the time and had his own theory, which he built on game by game, through the time-old tradition of trial and error. He never wrote down variations on his scoresheet. Just made a mental note of what he might do different or better next time. Make no mistake. Gavin was no dilettante. He was an old-school warrior with his own distinct chess philosophy and as soon as he sat down at the board, he played with a focus and concentration that could unnerve the strongest of opponents. When Gavin smashed the Israeli GM Leonid Gofshtein, one of the top seeds in Genoa, with a beautiful rook sacrifice that led to a mating attack, it was clear that this genial, gregarious Londoner was no chess tourist. He was an exceptionally talented chess player, the more dangerous for not worrying about whether he won, lost or drew. What mattered was to stay true to himself on the chess board. This he did time after time. Game after game. All his chess career.

Gavin came close to winning the tournament in Genoa and scored his first IM norm. Remarkably, he was incredibly humble. His opponents had been unlucky or lost through blunders. Gavin remained grounded. Like all strong players, Gavin was fully conscious of his strengths and weaknesses. Most important of all, however, he had a very clear idea of the kind of player that he wanted to be and, what’s more, he had worked out a way of becoming that very player. Gavin forged his own creative style that enabled him to play and enjoy chess in a way that it would always remain a mystery, so the game would keep surprising him. It was an ingenious approach, ensuring he would never tire or get bored of chess. With each game, he would embark on a journey into the relative unknown, usually leaving theory early on, embracing uncertainty so as to test his creative powers and those of his opponent. Many professional GMs never reach this level of self-knowledge and actualisation and drift away from the game when their powers begin to wane. Not Gavin however. He had found a way to constantly engage his imagination and refresh his ’Beginners Mind’ in every game he played.

In Genoa, I could see that if Gavin got another norm or two and achieved the IM title, he would be delighted. I could also see that if he never became an IM, it wouldn’t have mattered. He would keep striving to be the best player he could be and enjoy the game and the company of his opponents and teammates regardless. All the extraneous stuff, titles, rating, tournament placing were of little or no consequence. What would be, would be. If he carried the day, well enough. If he didn’t, what of it? There was always tomorrow.

It was a breath of fresh air to meet such a fun and fearless player and such a happy-go-lucky guy. While hanging out in Genoa, I discovered that Gavin's dad was from the 'Premier’ County and had hurled for Tipp before emigrating to the UK. Gavin had been to Ireland on family holidays as a kid and had even played at the 1993 Zonal tournament in Dublin but he had never been back since. I suggested he declare for Ireland. He looked doubtful. How would he be received? I reminded him about the Irish Football Team. Now football was one of the great passions of Gavin's life. I didn’t need to say anymore. Gavin understood he had a legitimate claim to play for Ireland. The decision was sealed with a pint.

Over the next years, Gavin quickly became a familiar and popular figure on the Irish Chess Scene. Gavin had an incredible ear for accents and had virtually every British and Irish accent down pat. He could have made a fortune as a voice-over artist, but was far too busy ‘not’ studying and playing chess to be bothered with such worldly concerns. Gavin’s deep appreciation for music made it easy for him to connect with Irish people. He had listened to virtually everything under the sun and had an encylopaedic memory for all sorts of music and trivia, something that made him a highly-valued member of any table quiz team and the enemy of proprietors of Quiz machines in the UK which Gavin routinely emptied of change in a matter of minutes thanks to his vast general knowledge. As my wife Donna observed to me today, he had a great sense of humour, was instantly likeable and had that rare human quality of being genuinely interested in other people and their dreams and aspirations. He was also a great listener. You could take at length and he would never interrupt you. These traits are probably what made him one of the most sought-after chess coaches in London. And also explains how he had friends from so many different walks of life.

After becoming an IM in 2003, he went on to compete for Ireland at two Chess Olympiads (Calvia 2004 & Istanbul 2012). Gavin genuinely loved Ireland and the Irish Chess Community and would regularly fly over to compete in weekend events such as Kilkenny and Bunratty. He also took part in several Irish Championships and numerous closed round-robin norm events organised by the ICU, where his presence gave Irish players seeking the IM title the chance to achieve their own norms without having to travel abroad.

Gavin's willingness to put his title and his international rating on the line regardless of the event or the opposition was typical of his generous nature. In his role as captain of Richmond's 4NCL Chess Team, Gavin gave several generations of players including myself the chance to play in Britain's top league. If any of the regular team were in danger of not making it to the event owing to a lack of funds, Gavin wouldn’t hesitate to dip into his own pocket and quietly book their flight or give a helping hand to pay their petrol or hotel room. I know this for a fact, as he helped me out on more than one occasion. He never sought a sponsor for the team. He didn't need to. We all looked forward to hanging out with him and playing for Richmond, not to mention the traditional team curry on the Saturday night.

Gavin’s extensive chess adventure across Europe led him to be invited to play in the German Bundesliga for Bindlach. Generous as ever, Gavin suggested Bindlach invite me to join their team, and we played second division of the German League together, for a number of years. Gavin kept this connection going right up to his sudden passing last Wednesday and was a stalwart of the team, often playing first or second board. He defeated two IMs during this year’s campaign for Bindlach and was as dangerous a player as ever.

I will never forget the first time I met the Bindlach team. I immediately understood why Gavin wanted to play for them. The members of Bindlach were all passionate, serious chess players, but they also liked to make as much of a chess weekend as possible, whether it be playing blitz in a pub into the early hours, bringing the entire team on a guided tour of the local opera house or organizing a night-time candle-lit hike (Winterwanderung) through the snow in a local forest to a tiny tavern where a roasted goose and beer awaited. This was the kind of cultural experience and engagement that Gavin loved no end. That I had the good fortune to share with him.

Gavin had a way of finding like-minded fun-loving souls that shared his passion and curiosity for chess and life. Always easy-going and always esteemed, he knew how to bring and keep people together. It is fair to say to he was a member of many tribes, several of his own making. This is especially evident in the many fine tributes written about Gavin on the online English Chess Forum. See https://www.ecforum.org.uk/viewtopic.php?t=14792

Gavin will be sorely missed by all those who had the privilege of knowing him. By all the people he made laugh. By those he regularly swindled with far-fetched impossible tactics. By the thousands of students he encouraged and taught to love and play the game. By all those who were fortunate enough to travel the road with him a while, whether in England, Ireland or further afield. Rest in peace Gavin. Your contribution has been mighty. And your legacy is assured. You will be missed but not forgotten.

Ní bheidh do leithéid arís ann.