| From "Gentleman of Leisure (Lyrics)" performed by Jimmy Buffett (YouTube) |
An examination of training and practical concepts for the improving tournament chessplayer
| From "Gentleman of Leisure (Lyrics)" performed by Jimmy Buffett (YouTube) |
From Mind Master: Winning Lessons From A Champion's Life by GM Viswanathan Anand:
Unquestionably, talent exists. It’s no myth or hokum. Your talent tells you that you’re cut out for something. It points you towards what you can do effortlessly and what your potential career could be. However, talent isn’t everything. Knowledge and growth don’t come easily. You have to be willing to put in the hours and the effort, sometimes even without visible progress, because one day, unexpectedly, the results will flower. But without that work, it’s unlikely to happen. Eventually, hard work is not just about plugging away at something. It’s thinking intelligently about what you want to achieve, the goals you’re setting yourself, how you’re improving and how you can incorporate all of this into the list of things that will help you scale that peak.
Unlike in some other film examples, the chess set is set up correctly and the king is toppled in a later scene by one character in a parallel to the title sequence. The use of the chess board appears to reference the strategic play of the main character, who early on is alluded to be a witch, on a mission of revenge in the village. I gave the film a 4/5 and can recommend it for the proper use of chess imagery throughout.
Below is excerpted from the Medium.com article by Alvaro Garcia "How to achieve in weeks what others don't achieve in years"
Norbert Wiener, the father of cybernetics, put forward this law in 1943:
“Every self-regulating system needs a feedback loop that translates the result of an action into a signal readable for the next decision cycle.” (Norbert Wiener, 1943)
What does this mean?
He explained it with a rocket. A rocket that does not receive continuous information about its deviation from its trajectory never reaches its destination, no matter how much fuel it carries. The same happens to you with your goals. It doesn’t matter the effort, the hours, the money, the willpower. It will all be wasted if you don’t have a signal that tells you, in time, how much you’ve deviated.
You need to study your own performance every day.
In this last-round tournament game, it is evident that I have little experience as Black in the Leningrad variation of the Dutch Defense. Analysis shows a series of mis-placed pieces and long-missed ideas (...Nh5) that would have given me a better game. This was based on lack of familiarity with positional characteristics and common ideas specific to the Leningrad (including not blocking the bishop on g7). My opponent shows a similar lack of familiarity with the opening, but manages to create a weakness to target, establishing a strong passed d-pawn and a strategically winning position. While my calculation was not very accurate in picking up my opponent's threats, I did at least show good judgment in some cases by deliberately complicating the situation, which (luckily) led to my opponent missing some winning opportunities. I was pleased enough to be able to legitimately clinch a draw at the end, after fighting to come back.
As I move into what I intend to be a more sustained and focused phase of chess improvement than has been possible in recent years, I've decided to update my chess-world alias to "Carlo Fortunati" - in truth, I do feel fortunate to be an amateur with more time and (hopefully) energy to devote to the cause in coming years. The original "ChessAdmin" alias was rather generic (boring?) but was created at a time (2011) that was in the last part of the golden years of independent chess blogging, when being your own "admin" meant something. It worked well enough as an internet identity, although once I did get yelled at by one site for registering there under that alias, since apparently some users confused me for an actual admin. I plan to continue to use it in the annotated games, for continuity as well as to avoid confusion with anyone actually named "Carlo Fortunati".
Currently there is an active and diverse chess blogging community, largely based on major global sites (Chess.com, lichess.org, Substack), which is a pleasure to see after some relatively lean years. Part of this content is of course related to marketing efforts by chess professionals, which is fine if not overdone, and there are a good number of sites/blogs with genuine substantive content that are enriching for the whole community. I will continue to link to selected chess improvement blogs in the sidebar and post snippets/comments on particular posts of interests as I run across them.
In the near term another change I may consider is opening up (moderated) comments to anonymous posters, at least as an experiment. When the blog was originally created, most people actually had Google accounts (for Gmail use if nothing else) and filtering permission by that status - the current setting - was not significantly exclusionary. This is no longer the case and the intermediate filter option of allowing OpenID verification for commenting is long gone as well. (I am limited to the options for the Blogger platform being used.) Past anonymous random comments largely consisted of advertising spam and were occasionally creepy (spam or not), so I did not enjoy the task of having to read and delete them all for content moderation purposes. I'm therefore not in a rush to open the gates again to anonymous posters, although I would welcome more engagement on ideas and topics that are posted. We will see how it goes. Naturally anyone with a Google account will still be able to comment, in any case.
This next tournament game features what should have been a comfortable draw as White in a King's Indian Defense (KID) by transposition - with some opportunities for advantage passed up along the way - but which devolved into a highly cramped loss. The key error, if not the final losing one, was exchanging queens on the c-file to reach a cramped minor piece ending. This was simply unnecessary and reflects a repeated tendency I have to worry excessively about an open file with an opponent's major piece (queen/rook) on it, even if I have all the penetration squares effectively under control. My opponent does an excellent job of demonstrating how squeezes can happen in endgames, although I had opportunities to relieve the pressure with an f-pawn break. Very instructive.
After an unfortunate loss in the first round of the tournament and barely escaping with a draw in the second, in this next game I was satisfied enough with a relatively easy and clean draw against a higher-rated player. I transposed into a Modern Stonewall as Black and achieved equality early on, which was the job of the opening to accomplish, but I missed a couple of chances to press for a clear strategic advantage. My opponent did well to disrupt my plans with 12. Qb3! and this lesson should help me keep a better eye on tactics along the g8-h2 diagonal in the future.
In this second-round tournament game, as a relatively new player of the Dutch Defense, I faced my first Staunton Gambit. Although it is now considered somewhat theoretically deficient for White, it is still dangerous if Black is not fully prepared. This fact is well-illustrated below, as I confuse the necessary move 4 response with that for other lines in the gambit. White as a result gets exactly what he wanted out of the opening, including a clear pawn-up advantage. In the early middlegame at first I am barely hanging on, but after sorting out my pieces I am able to target my opponent's vulnerabilities and gain equality, after some interesting tactics (including a big missed one for White). I was happy to reach a fully drawn position and will certainly remember more of my prep for the next time I see the Staunton Gambit.
In this first-round tournament game, I achieve an ideal Colle-Zukertort attacking formation as White out of the opening and nearly put my opponent away after a couple of his inaccuracies. However, my initial attack failed to fully connect as I could not find the knockout blow. The second-best move (according to the engine) was enough to keep up the attack's momentum and give me a second chance, but again I failed to find the key idea, which was to shut down my opponent's queenside counterplay possibilities first, before returning to prying open the h-file. My opponent did not give me a third chance and recovered well, taking advantage of an open White backfield to first infiltrate his queen, then decisively with a rook. A valuable game to study for lessons in attacking dynamics and strategic prioritization.
From IM Junta Ikeda's Substack post "Deciding to play" on his mindset for tournaments:
Acknowledging that you’re going to make mistakes and potentially lose, even if you play your best, takes some pressure off whether you’re the top seed or bottom seed. It’s not necessarily a mechanism for defending yourself in advance from painful losses, ‘unlucky’ results or having excuses ready. It’s being objective and accepting that chess is a hard game and it takes a lot of time and tournaments over months and years to know more about yourself and your chess. And there will be many painful losses and tournaments, but you’ll keep learning and adjusting with each one.
This simul game, played versus GM Ben Finegold at this year's National Open in Las Vegas, ended up in an exciting finish. As with other GM simuls I've played in, I was able to do well with my opening prep, studying published games and focusing on the most likely lines I would face. GM Finegold has publicly touted the Torre Attack setup versus the Dutch Defense, and we in fact enter that, following some other games in the database until around move 8. In the middlegame, I make some awkward, piece-restricting moves that GM Finegold takes advantage of positionally with easy, harmonious development, which is instructive to see. The end becomes wild as I boldly (finally!) emphasize piece activity for practical chances and could have drawn (or even won), but was not able to find the more subtle solutions, and White then wins with an aesthetic discovered checkmate.
I recently completed Chess Duels: My Games With The World Champions (Everyman Chess, 2010) by GM Yasser Seirawan. As part of my study/training process, on a daily basis at lunchtime I normally work through a book of annotated games, ideally written by a master-level player that showcases their internal thought process. There are of course a number of good "Best Games" type books out there - including ones I've previously completed - but I found this one to be uniquely valuable in several respects:
Kasparov's retirement left the chess world in a sad state. It was denied the joy of seeing Kasparov play, and the World Championship title itself no longer seemed to have legitimacy. After all, the title only meant something if chess players around the world thought it did. With multiple and ever-changing Champions, and shorter and shorter matches, the chess world could really only look to the rating list to determine who was "number one."
- Seirawan includes all his career games with the world champions he played against, not just the best ones, which immediately differentiates this collection from others. While in fact he has an excellent competitive record against them, some of the games (win, loss or draw) inevitably feature his blunders and bad decisions. This balance makes the book even more valuable for instructional purposes, since he can provide firsthand explanations of not just why moves (or evaluations) were incorrect, but the thought process behind the choices. It also serves to humanize and normalize even his bad play, which of course we can all relate to from our own experience, making us feel better about chess.
- The background stories he shares about himself and his opponents are similarly humanizing and provide interesting context to the games. I found the content overall to be appropriately balanced and largely focused on chess-relevant themes, rather than trying to be too biographical. He had particularly fascinating accounts of some of the behind-the-scenes activities of Fischer and Kasparov.
- While the events of international chess politics are of course historically dated (through 2010), this is still the best review and set of insights into those World Championship-level issues that I've seen. Personally one of the reasons I was turned off from an interest in tournament chess for a number of years after college was the interminable series of Kasparov-Karpov matches, which were followed by a fragmented, confusing and opaque world championship process. Seirawan provides an insider and largely objective viewpoint on all this, without letting it become too much of a rant.
- For those familiar with his live commentary style, Seirawan's authorial "voice" is similarly clear and well-organized, as well as being appropriately humorous (often self-deprecating) while still taking his subject matter seriously.
- Factors that were behind historical world championship controversies are still relevant to what we see in today's top-level chess scene, as evident in the following excerpt, where Seirawan comments on Garry Kasparov's retirement from competition in 2005:
This final-round game is another ugly win, making a trio for the tournament. I felt better about it than the others, however, since the middlegame was more interesting and I got into a losing position only after missing an excellent attacking continuation at a critical point (move 25). After that, I needlessly panicked as White got the initiative, then landed some hard blows against my position. My practical decision-making was good, however, in that I kept posing White problems, which eventually he failed to solve in the best way, thereby letting me back into the game. The denouement comes after a crucial bid for counterplay is allowed to succeed by White, then I force a transition into a winning queen endgame.
The trajectory of this next tournament game could be viewed as a mashup of the previous several games analyzed - being an ugly come-from-behind win, in which I am able to grab the initiative in a very equal position and then make life difficult for my opponent, who goes wrong tactically in the end. The game itself was a useful learning experience for me as White in a King's Indian Defense, which the Colle can transpose to. I obtained a significant plus out of the opening (see moves 10-17) but then squandered it by allowing counterplay by Black on the queenside. The rest of the game becomes a back-and-forth roller coaster.
(I mention in the annotations not choosing a couple of "good enough" moves - see IM Junta Ikeda's related Substack post here: https://juntaikeda.substack.com/p/20-40-good-enough-moves)
This second-round tournament game had a different trajectory from the previous two. Instead of having to rally after being significantly worse (and then winning), in this game as White I pass up various opportunities to gain a small advantage, as well as miss spotting a good tactic, keeping things very equal for almost the entire game. I would say there was too much play by rote early on, then perhaps a lack of ambition after that.
The other main issue was taking too much time with largely meaningless calculations on each move, in that the evaluation was not significantly different after many of them, regardless of the choice. This meant that near the end of the game I was down to only a few minutes and was in the position of responding to my opponent's initiative for too many moves. It only takes one miscalcuation or bad idea to give away the game, and that's what happened here. Engine evaluations of "equal" is not the same thing as "easy" to play, which this game is an excellent example of. My opponent did well to try to create practical chances in the latter part of the game, which gave me the opportunity to go wrong.
In this first-round tournament game, my opponent essays the Advance Variation against my Caro-Kann, which these days is considered the most challenging try for White. While I play the opening generally correctly, I over-correct for my normal materialistic bias by postponing capturing the e5 pawn for too long, giving my opponent a strong attack. The trajectory of the game is similar to that of Annotated Game #347, as White dissipates the attacking tension too soon and lets me back in the game, albeit having inflicted some positional damage in the process. I then find a move which flips the game narrative and suddenly my pieces come to life, with a winning advantage. There are some tactics involved and I was glad to be able to calculate correctly the sequence that sealed the victory, which included giving back a piece in exchange for a winning major piece attack.
From Mind Master: Winning Lessons From A Champion's Life by GM Viswanathan Anand:
Motivation, I believe, ebbs and flows to its own rhythms and might have nothing to do with the effort we put into feeling it or the control we attempt to exercise over it. I’ve found that I’ve played my most inspired games when my enthusiasm for the sport resurfaced, without the bindings of titles or wins or ratings tying me down, and I’ve just wanted to play a good game and have been excited about learning something new or applying something fresh. There’s no quick path to finding motivation, but the moment you surrender to your love for your sport – or your career or choice of activity, for that matter – is where the highest probability lies.
It took three tries, but this final-round tournament game was my first victory as a "pure" Dutch Defense player (after 1. d4 f5). The previous (second time) was in Annotated Game #343, when I faced the 2. Bg5 sideline. Here I face the other main sideline, with 2. Nc3 followed by 3. Bg5. The main difference is that the move-order allows Black to play 2...Nf6 first, which significantly changes the dynamics. Although I mis-remember the standard line afterwards (3...d5), I get a reasonable game; it is nice to know that even in the Dutch the moves are not necessarily on knife-edge all the time. One significant flaw was 8...Kf7?!, an idea that was repeated (if not quite as horribly) from the previous game, so that is something to remember.
After that, my opponent got some early pressure with an h-pawn advance, but then - as often occurs at the Class level - she prematurely dissipated the tension, so I was able to equalize without difficulty. By around move 18 the position is largely symmetrical and I felt was rather boring, so I tried to spice things up on the h-file, misjudging my strategic chances there and also having board vision problems with the blunder 21...Rh6? My opponent evidently was also bored with the position and tried to be aggressive with 22. c4?! which makes the situation complex and allowed me to go astray. There is a lot of tactical back-and-forth afterwards, which I'll leave to the game annotations, but basically I held on until I spotted a winning tactic and turned the tables on my opponent. Perhaps this was a fitting way to obtain a first win in the Dutch.
This second-round tournament game features an interesting Colle vs. Queen's Indian setup. Black is a little over-aggressive in the opening, but I am not able to keep the small advantage obtained as a result. My opponent then doubles down on the aggression with 16...f4? - I initially respond correctly, but then make a far too materialistic decision to play passively, instead of dynamically with a significant advantage. Black continues to actively press and his attack essentially plays itself, as a result. An object lesson in the superior dynamic value of pieces.