Ken Feinstein

I first met @GmNaroditsky Daniel Naroditsky, “Danya,” in 2008 on a cruise ship, of all places. He was the reigning World Under-12 Chess Champion and was on the front page of Chess Life. My mom, who can’t tell a knight from a bishop, pulled me aside after randomly passing the Naroditsky family and said, “Isn’t that the boy from your chess magazines?” and quickly ran to introduce us. Danya was probably already twice my rating despite being a couple years younger, and that may have been the last time that I was taller than him. As two introverted boys (some things never change), we let our parents do all the talking, and soon said our goodbyes. I’ve never told anyone this cruise story until now. I’d always assumed there would be a time and place to laugh about it with him. Or maybe I was too shy to admit that someone who was such a hero to me would become one of my best friends more than a decade later. Fast forward to 2015, when Jennifer Christianson had the brilliant instinct to bring Danya on as an instructor at the Castle Chess Camp, which I had attended for years. Watching Danya teach chess was something like watching Mozart in front of a piano. He was simply the most talented and passionate chess educator I’ve ever seen – generous with his time, and so damn thorough. Over the next couple years, my future boss @PeterGiannatos also started teaching at the camp, and we all became great friends (shoutout to Magesh Panchanathan too). We were all obsessed with chess, food, jokes, politics, ping pong, and staying up late. Danya taught at Castle Chess annually since 2015 until he took a break this year. He had promised me to return in 2026, and a promise from Danya is worth its weight in gold. Peter stayed in touch with Danya, always asking him whether he was going to attend grad school after Stanford or pursue chess in some way, shape, or form. To make a long story short, Danya was torn, but he eventually made the decision that we all love him for today. It was courageous of him to turn his back away from academia and the “traditional route” to which he had already devoted so many resources (and he was equally talented there as well), especially as the Charlotte Chess Center was much less of a powerhouse institution than it is today. And what a decision it was - everyone in Charlotte was so thrilled that he had chosen to move here, but no one was happier than I was. During COVID, Danya’s decision and subsequent hard work paid off in ways no one could have imagined. Not only was he a top online chess player, but his talent in teaching and speaking about chess led him to build a very successful brand with Twitch streaming, Youtube content, and Chesscom commentary. Meanwhile, he became an integral part of the Charlotte Chess core friend group during those unique lockdown days when us young professionals really needed each other socially. Danya was America’s childhood chess sweetheart, all grown up and succeeding in all walks of life - playing online blitz vs. Magnus and Hikaru by day, and watching “Billions” with his buddies and some Thai food in Virginia's apartment by night. After the pandemic, Danya’s trajectory kept climbing, as he did everything from writing a New York Times chess column to being the “go-to” commentator, along with inseparable content partner Robert Hess, on elite World Championship events. His family was proud. His friends were proud. The Charlotte Chess community was proud. He loved his life in chess and everyone around him. Through it all, the most impressive thing to me is how genuine Danya remained considering his fame. If anything, his success made him value his family, friends, and relationships even more. He was so down to earth – the most willing Grandmaster to host a party at his place or go on a coffee run for his colleagues. Though he remained an introvert throughout his life, he still loved coming to all of our homes for dinner or to the CCC to play in a Blitz tournament no matter the level of competition – 800, 1800, or 2800. When Danya would leave a party early, it would be to go play some online blitz and bullet – he loved chess more than anyone, and played virtually every day of his adult life. We all loved him for that and loved following his career. I remember walking into a movie theater when Danya had an advantage against World #3 Fabiano Caruana at the 2021 U.S. Championship, and could not put my phone down during the movie. He won that game. I also remember texting @MayaBMyers for minute-by-minute updates on Danya during the American Cup Blitz in which he had incredible results in his favorite format, over-the-board blitz. Finally, I remember calculating tiebreaks for him during the recent World Blitz Championship in New York – I informed him that he should play for a win to have a shot of qualifying to the final stage, but he secured an early draw to ensure a strong tied-for-first result to appease certain prying eyes of the chess community. Danya confided many things to me, and one that I can share is that he had concrete plans to make a return to classical chess in the next year and push towards the top 50 players in the World. He had just played the U.S. Open, and had his eyes on the 2026 Reykjavik Open and other events. For a player of his talent not to achieve his full potential had always nagged him, and to me, there was little in the way of him achieving his goals. All of these friendships, memories, and chess goals are what makes it so hard to say goodbye to you, Danya. No more fireside chats. No more blitz battles with @BortnykChess or time odds with Dominique. No more all-nighter ping pong duels. To those who have reached out with heartfelt condolences and questions about the circumstances of his passing: no one has answers for you right now. Please stop asking. Any speculation is likely far from the truth. I implore everyone to trade their curiosity in for compassion, and sincerely think of those most affected by Danya’s passing. The Naroditsky family needs privacy, and I urge everyone to honor that. I can tell you two things with absolute certainty: 1) Danya’s support group never faltered. We loved him for every moment of his life, and will continue to love and miss him forever. 2) There will be time in which we, amongst others I’m sure, take concrete steps to forever enshrine Danya’s legacy in the chess world. There will be a time and place to show your support. When that time comes, actions will speak louder than words. It is beautiful to see the countless articles, posts, and messages celebrating Danya’s life. Have you ever seen someone so universally loved by millions of people? I wish he could have understood that when he was still with us. He admired his colleagues in the professional chess world and sought the validation and respect of his fellow Grandmasters in an obsessive but endearing way. To those who seek retribution against certain members of the chess community, I personally ask you to remember that this time is about Danya Naroditsky and no one else. Over the past few days, I have found that positivity, however impossible, is what gives me solace during this time. Danya would never want such negative energy expelled on his behalf. Savor your favorite memories of him. Over the past few days, I’ve found myself asking myself the same questions repeatedly: How is it fair for such a beautiful family to endure such a painful loss? How is a young friend group supposed to heal after having a key member cruelly taken at the age of 29? How will the Charlotte Chess community ever recover from this? Why was Danya not at least able to enjoy the fruits of marriage and things outside of chess before departing? When will I wake up from this nightmare and have one more Barbecue or Mediterranean dinner with him? Of all the paths that fate could take, why this one? I’ve come to realize that I simply have no answers to these questions. Many of you will remember Danya as an eloquent commentator, passionate teacher, and formidable opponent. Of course, you’d be right about all of that. But I will remember him differently. Danya, you were an amazing friend and the best person I've ever known. I’m so sorry it ended this way. I am truly thankful that you chose to do what your heart wanted to do during your short life, and that you were able to find true love in your final years. I’ve always tried to keep emotion to a minimum. I now realize how stupid that is, and today, it is simply not possible. Today, I am simply broken. Today, I don’t know how to say thank you to you enough, Danya. Today, I hope that this goodbye will suffice. A huge part of me, of us, of chess, is gone forever. Rest in peace, Danya Naroditsky. I know you are already up there blitzing with the legends. Hope you brought your chess clock.