Start your clocks!

Time.  Whether there was a beginning to time a la The Big Bang or an end to time with a Big Crunch or it will continue forever expanding with space as heat death approaches for all matter in the universe... These are interesting questions for physics.  There are many challenging questions and aspects of time for the intellectually curious.  Two great books I recently read on the subject are “In Search of Time: The Science of a Curious Dimension” by Dan Falk, and “From Eternity to Here: The Quest for the Ultimate Theory of Time” by Sean M. Carroll.  I highly recommend both books. 

As human beings, however, there is one aspect of time that is inescapable.  For us, it is limited.  There is, of course, the obvious endpoint: death.  But on top of that we are surrounded by many more limits.  We have a certain time to be at work, which limits our sleep time and the time we have to eat our morning meal before heading to work (which all too many people skip precisely because of this limit).  We have limited time to complete our tasks at work.  Our vacation time is limited.  Our time for leisurely reading the two recommended books above is limited.  Etcetera, etcetera. 

This is why the chess Gods gave us clocks.  Our game also has the same limits as life.  As it should. 

No matter how much natural talent a person has, there is only so far they can progress in chess before they have to start doing some work to get better (Jose Raul Capablanca being the one exception).  They need to study endings, strategy, tactics, tactics, tactics, and some openings.  They should play through and try to understand top-level Grand Master games.  They should review their past games. Etcetera, etcetera.  Just as a great football player puts in hours upon hours of work to give his one-hour performance on Sunday (or Monday night), so too must chess players prepare for the game. 

Once all of our preparations have been made (within the limits time as imposed upon us) it is time to start the game.  And to start the game, we start the clock. 

Each player now has equal time to do battle and see who is better.  Who is better at openings, strategy, tactics, tactics, tactics, endings and time management. 

Mt four most recent games demonstrate this.  The first two were against a much higher rated player and the last two were against an equally rated opponent. 

A few weeks ago I played Jim, a strong expert, (rated just under 2100 USCF – compared to my just under 1700 he should have easily been the winner) in two G45 (game in 45 minutes with a five second delay per move). 

I had the black pieces in the first game.  I met 1.e4 with the Sicilian and we entered the Four Knights variation.  We each used less than 5 minutes to make our first 10 moves.  On my eleventh move I deviated from opening theory, but with a concrete idea behind my move (in retrospect, while the idea is certainly playable (I believe), I will most likely continue down the well worn paths of theory in future games of this variation).  Not until move 17 did either of us stop for a long think.  I spent 13 minutes on move 17 coming up with a plan.  Up to that point we were both roughly equal on time.  Now I do believe that you should take time to come up with plans – especially in critical positions – however, in a G45 game 13 minutes is really just too long.  Unless the result is some long forced mate 1/3 of the clock really should not be burned.  In fact, it is probably better to just find a (relatively) “quick” way to improve your position rather than attempt to calculate a long, long sequence with such time pressures.  For the remainder of the game I retained this time deficit.  I got into a tough position where I should be able to hold a draw, but it would NOT be easy.  On move 31, still 13 minutes down (Jim had 19 remaining to my 6), I made an error that cost the draw.  I still fought, but had to stop recording moves after move 36 where Jim had 13 minutes to my 1 minute. 

I pride myself on learning from my mistakes.  So, one of my major mental focuses throughout the week as my next two games approached was on “time equality.”  Don’t give the opponent any large time advantages to capitalize on.  Interestingly, due to no fault of my own, this would turn out not to be a problem of any real consequence for me the following week.  It was my opponent who was the time trouble addict.

My opponent, Don, and I were rated almost dead equal in the USCF ratings, so any outcome could be expected.  However, he is someone who most definitely should not play shorter time controls.  Here’s what went down.

I had the white pieces in our first game and we went into my Catalan opening.  [I admit that I do not (currently) know the opening theory of the Catalan as well as I should, but I do know many themes, piece set-ups, and ideas.  If you are going to be deficient somewhere in your opening knowledge, I think it is better to be deficient on the concrete variations.  Know the themes, set-ups, and ideas.  What good is knowledge of 23 move deep openings if you don’t know how to play them?]  Strangely enough, I have noticed over the last year that I have been employing the Catalan that many (club) players with the black pieces play right into the opening, but then have no real considered responses on how to handle the positions.  This game followed that same pattern.  However, there was one major difference.  TIME!  For the first six moves everything was rather standard.  We had each fully developed our kingside and castled and I had spent one minute and my opponent four minutes.  But here, my opponent began his collapse.  Moves seven eight and ten cost my opponent too much. 

Move seven: six minutes

Move eight: seven minutes

Move ten: nine minutes

That’s 22 minutes for these three moves alone.  If there were some tactical shots this might have been justified.  However, this was a nice closed position with no immediate threats for either side.  In a static position like we had – and with such short time controls (remember that this is game in 45 minutes) – this seems like a horrible investment in time.  So after move ten I had an 18 minute superiority on the clock.  It only got worse from there.  I will admit that he did reach a superior strategic position in the game.  In fact, when he flagged (and lost) the game on time, I was most likely strategically lost.  There were many ways for him to continue improving his position while I would really rather just “pass” on moves because I could only make my position worse.  However, the clock (TIME) decided the game.  When he ran out of time on move 22, I still had 23 minutes left. 

In our next game his time addiction was more justifiable, but still costly.  In this game he used the Morra Gambit against my Sicilian Defense.  A super sharp tactical opening like the Morra demands that time be spent.  In fact, I was guilty of not spending enough time early on.  For my eighth move I could have won a second pawn and reached a super solid position, but instead I spent less than one minute and play an “automatic” move that hands over positional superiority and an aggressive attack to my opponent.  Luckily I was able to neutralize the attack within a short time period.  And it was here, where the position became less dynamic, that my opponent fell prey to his time issues.  He spent 11 minutes on his 15^th move, and another nine minutes on his 16^th move.  Almost half of his time blown on these two moves!  By move 20 he had less than one minute on the clock and his attack had fizzled.  I subsequently sacrificed the exchange for two pawns and an active king position and on move 25 his flag fell.  The final position is most likely a draw, but with 12 minutes on my clock to his less than one there was little chance of his being able to hold it.  This time I had used time to my advantage!

The next week I faced Shaun, rated a solid 200 points above me.  I felt, though, that I could still have good results against him.  And, time was 1) still very much on my mind, and 2) did, in fact, play an important role in both of our games. 

In our fist game he opened with 1. f4 – Bird’s Opening.  Ugh.  It is an opening that I have little respect for.  In fact, prior to this game my score against the opening was 3 wins, 3 draws, and zero losses.  When he pushed 1. f4 it was not too much of a shock for me.  Now, I knew he is not a regular Bird player, but rather he felt that because of the ratings disparity between us, be could take me out of my openings knowledge and get a good game from the get go.  I have to admit that it really rather pissed me off.  It was a sign of disrespect.  Well, I had to strike back!  I have two systems that I consistently use against the Bird.  One: “the recipe”, and Two: From’s Gambit.  Nowadays, From’s Gambit really should not cause white any problems – as long as white knows his stuff!  However, it is surprising how few regular Bird players do not know their stuff.  Opening theory that is.  So, I sat there thinking.  This guy is NOT a regular Bird player and is playing it solely to take be out of theory.  My antidote: put him into a highly theoretical line – play From’s Gambit!  After I played Lasker’s crazy g5 pawn push on move four, he immediately stopped for a “think” and burned four minutes to make his fifth move.  Ha!  I’ve got him, I thought.  He played a move that I thought was incorrect on his fifth move.  So, here is a point where I should have stopped and used my time for a long think.  We are early in the game, yes, but in a highly tactical and theoretical line and the opponent has played an unfamiliar move.  This is the time to use your time!  However, I did not.  In fact, his move was “okay” according to theory, while I thought that it was a mistake.  Again, when you think the opponent has made a mistake, use your TIME to see WHY it is a mistake!  I did not.  What he played really just puts the game back into a level position with no real worries for either side, but I played it as if mate was forthcoming by attacking with full force and sacrificing material without a clear mate visible in the near future.  WRONG!  Don’t do that!  Again, use your time to see the outcome of the position.  So, to make a long story short, because I did not properly use my time, I attacked blindly and had to resign facing a forced mate in two on move 31.  (Side note: I have now refreshed my memory on that possible fourth move and am properly prepared to meet it in the future.) 

In our next game he met my 1. d4 with 1... c5.  This is – for all intents and purposes – really just another attempt to dodge theory.  Is he really so afraid of my opening knowledge?  We went into a Benoni position where I was absolutely better for quite a while.  But, as he really is a better player, my position did start to collapse.  On move 10, though, he handed me a five-minute time advantage.  I nursed that advantage the entire rest of the game.  On move 23 he won a pawn, and I knew from then on I was playing for a draw.  On move 40 he won a second pawn, however, I had specifically planned to let that pawn fall, because I saw that I should be able to force the draw once it dropped.  On move 40, also, I had eight minutes left while he had three (I was still holding my five minute advantage).  I stopped recording moves at move 50 (I had four minutes, he had less than 30 seconds).  Soon thereafter, when he had 2 seconds to my four minutes, and he faced a threefold repetition of moves I offered a draw and he accepted.  Where my strategic and tactical skills had failed me in this game, my time management had saved me. 

We should always strive to play the best possible moves in a given position.  However, there is a limit on the time we are able to use for a game.  Consequently, sometimes the best move is not where we place a chess piece, rather it is where we place either our or our opponent’s clock.  Time is a tool.  Time is limited.  USE IT!

DEATH TO THE DUTCH!

It happened again. I opened a game with 1.d4 and was met with 1... f5 – The Dutch. Ugh! In Raetsky and Chetverick’s book “Petroff Defence” they joke that all chess openings are divided into two categories: 1) The Petroff, and 2) The Petroff Declined (1.d4, 1. c4, 1.Nf3, etc.). I am almost coming to think that it should be the Dutch and the Dutch declined. I HATE THE DUTCH!!!

When I open 1.d4 and then the reply comes 1...f5, I can (up to this day) pretty well be assured that I have just lost a point. I found a way (two ways in fact) around this by opening with either 1.c4 or 1.Nf3 against known Dutch players. However, how the heck can you know that someone is a Dutch player or not, unless you have heard them preaching the Dutch Gospel somewhere or have seen quite a few of their games?

I like kicking off a chess game with 1.c4 or 1.Nf3 (the English and the Reti respectively), but I really want to start with 1.d4. BUT... I am sick of loosing to the Dutch! And when I say sick of it, I mean sick like a consumptive leper with AIDS, pneumonia, and a bit of typhoid fever thrown in. Sick and freakin’ tired of it!!! Yellow fever, black plague, red death sick of it. I want to get all of my kindred spirits to open their windows and yell into the streets, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!” [RIP Sidney Lumet – “Network” is just one of the MASTERPIECES you left us with; we will always remember your work!]

So, as I came home dejected from the loss, I wondered what I could do. I cannot let this keep happening. Against all other replies to 1.d4 I feel fine. Why not the Dutch? Well, first off, the Dutch is what I would call a “specialty” opening. It is an opening usually employed by the converted. This special group who use it as their only weapon. The live and die by the Dutch. When they play me, they live a VERY happy life. I sit back and let them crush me. I cringe at somewhere between moves one and three that they stick their proud pawn on f5 (depending on move order). I cringe again when their knight makes a home on MY e4 square. The bile backs up in my throat and my anger builds as I play the Dutch player.

Things have to change!!!

And then I came to the OBVIOUS conclusion! (No, no dopey, I am not crossing over and becoming one of them.) I am, however, going to become a “Dutch Expert.” I am devoting the next two (at minimum) weeks to looking at the Dutch and learning it, knowing it, feeling it, and DEFEATING it!!!! “Death to the Dutch” is my new mission!!! I will learn their moves, and find better ones. I will learn their tactics, and find better ones. I will learn their strategies, and find better ones. I am on a mission. I will best the Dutch. I will kill the Dutch. I will not lose to the dreaded Dutch. For me, it will no longer be the “dreaded” Dutch! DEATH TO THE DUTCH!

Diary of a One Loss Opening

Hello. I’m the Queen’s Indian Defense. Sam decided to take me up a few weeks ago when he was changing his opening repertoire. Of course, I was just a mere sidekick to his Nimzo-Indian (for 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3, and then Bb4). The Nimzo-Indian was to be the backbone of his new defense to 1.d4. I was just a “back room deal.” If white inconveniently played 3.Nf3, then I – the QID – could come to play with 3... b6.

So, two weeks ago, white did just that! Woo-hoo! I was out of the gate. After 3.Nf3 – bang – out came 3...b6. Like a shot across the bow I was fired and borne into action. It was about time. Sam had already had a “Nimzo” over the board (and, yes, he won). Now it was my turn.

But, of course, Sam, like most men, neglected me these past few weeks. With the Nimzo as his backbone he spent most of his time with that opening, and little with me. Now it was his chance to parade me. But, how can you parade that which you do not know? With all of his time spent on the Nimzo-Indian, how on earth could he show me off, the Queen’s Indian? Men all too often know little about their bastards and their mistresses; and wasn’t that exactly what I was? A mistress, relegated to the back rooms.

Since Sam didn’t take the time to know me – he only knew that after 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6, when white plays 3.Nf3, then he should play b6 – he did NOT understand me. But, of course, since he did not know me, he was not able to use me (properly). An opening is like a person. You have to know, remember, and understand. Sam really had NONE of these. After my introduction with 3.Nf3 b6, he was lost. Several inaccurate moves from his opponent were met with just as (or more) inaccurate moves by Sam.

What was just as sad – or more sad – is that like his chosen one, I also had many of the same traits; he just could not see them. He did not understand our relation. Why he chose me. I was chosen because of my strong resemblance, like so many mistresses. In the Nimzo, black fights to control the e4 square, same with me. Sam was blind to this. Sam was blind to our similarities. Sam was unsure what to do with me.

SAM LOST THIS GAME!

It was a strategic and tactical loss. On all fronts Sam failed. He was shamed. He was humiliated. He felt he needed more – isn’t that what all people seek from their “others” – from the mistresses? He had not gotten that from me. But, was that my fault? He did not know me, remember me or understand me – and these three nots were not my fault.

After the loss Sam was ready to toss me out, to throw me under, to do away with me. He was ready to move on. What went wrong? He could not understand.

Instantly, Sam was looking for alternatives. He saw that he could leave me several ways. He could meet 3.Nf3 with c5 and get a Modern Benoni. Also, he could play d5 and go (back) to a Queen’s Gambit Declined. He even briefly considered meeting 1.d4 with c5 straight away thus settling into the Benoni complex and maybe not even getting his aggressive “modern” Benoni.

Since that loss Sam has been looking at all of these other openings, all of these ways to leave me. I hope he can take the time to reconsider why it was that he chose me in the fist place. Maybe he can – instead of looking at them (these new new openings) – come back and look at me and see what I have to offer...

If he just takes the time to know me...

Meet the Patzer

Last week [see last post] I won my game (definitively) because my opponent overlooked a mate in one. Due to this miss of the mate in one he lost instantly. In the variation he played, he would have lost later rather than sooner, even without the allowing of mate in one, since he dropped a piece and a pawn in his futile queening attempt. This miss just allowed me to win instantly. This is not meant to denigrate my opponent. It is just a simple fact. If you haven’t missed (and/or fell victim to) a mate in one, then you haven’t been playing chess for very long.

Dan Heisman, in his book “Back to Basics: Tactics,” says something to the effect of “Patzer sees a check; Patzer gives a check.” None of us wants to be a patzer. We all check our checks. My game two weeks ago is a case in point. At approximately move 26, I was able to check my opponent. Better yet, he had less than one minute left on his clock until the time control at move 40. He was going to have to pull 13 solid moves in less than one minute! Golden! For me. He had a threatened (next move) check, and I had an immediate (this move) check. Patzer sees a check; Patzer gives a check.

I had several options (of moves at the board), but the two most promising were 1) a prophylactic move against his check, and 2) delivering my check.

So, I checked my check. After I moved knight to e3 delivering check, he could either capture the knight with his queen and then my queen captures his and I win his queen, or he could move his king out of check and into a vicious attack on the diagonals delivered by both my queen and bishop. Beautiful! I played the check!!! Patzer sees a check; Patzer gives a check.

Zero hesitation followed my check. My opponent was ready to sacrifice his queen! He immediately captured with the queen? What the f***? He drops his queen! He drops his queen? Except... after I take with my queen, he delivers that “threatened” check I said he had, which is actually Check Mate! Son of a...! Patzer sees a check; Patzer gives a check.

While Heisman does say (something to the effect of), “Patzer sees a check; Patzer gives a check.” He is also careful to point out that you DO have to examine all checks; they may be winning. In this case, I checked the check and I won the queen, But I did not check the opponent's very next move where he mates me! So, rather than win his queen, I was about to drop mine!? No!

As Alekhine would say, “The Point!” The point is, if you see you win material (at minimum) check the move after. Nothing is for free. With less than a minute on my opponent’s clock to make 13 solid moves, I could have played almost anything. I just had to keep it complicated and make him think. Burn his clock and burn his brain. Instead, What did I do? Patzer sees a check; Patzer gives a check.

Moral: check your checks! And then, AFTER you check your checks, check (at least) one move deeper! Hello. I am Sam. Meet the Patzer.

Postscript: Lesson learned (even if the hard way); it will not happen again (soon).

That Pawn Is Not for Free!

My last two posts talked a lot about openings. This post will continue that trend. Both posts also reviewed books (to varying degrees). This post will again continue that trend. Also, the last two posts were written just after games I lost. This post will NOT continue that trend!

For the last seven months I have, when I had the white pieces, been employing the London System (see two posts ago for a review of Lakdawala’s book on this opening). Recently – very recently – however, I have been gearing up to play a more “traditional” queen’s pawn opening, basically the Queen’s Gambit. However, I have been studying the Trompowsky against 1...Nf6 (currently) avoiding the “Indian” defences. In fact, in the first round of the current tournament I am in I played the Tromp and scored a draw against a high 1900 player – quite a successful debut. The corners of my mouth almost touch my ears when I smile (really BIG) thinking about this.

When I check the pairings late last week (for this week) I saw I was set to play a strong mid-1900 player whom I have met over the board twice before. He is a rock solid player. He is like a stealthy jungle cat, always lying in wait and setting traps and stalking you! In both games I used the London System. I won the first game and lost the second. Not bad, considering that when we played he was almost 400 points above me. Now that I knew who I was playing I could set about my opening preparations. [For the non-chess people reading this, just like sports teams prepare for different opponents, so do chess players.] In both of our previous games he had met 1.d4 with d5, so I could skip the Trompowsky and set to work on the Queen’s Gambit.

Since I had been playing the London, I did not know how my opponent would respond when I followed 1.d4 d5 with 2.c4. But, there were some clues. In our previous two encounters my opponent had played an early Nf6, so, based on this, I ruled out both the Chigorin variation and the Albin-Counter Gambit. I may have been way off base with the ruling out of the Albin since in either of white’s two move orders to begin the London (with 1.d4 followed by either 2.Bf4 or 2.Nf3), black cannot play 2...e5, but I “rolled the dice.” This little ad hoc process of elimination allowed me to rule out quite a few possibilities from my opponent. Even with many variations ruled out, I still had work to do. I had to “book up” on the Queen’s Gambit Declined, the Queen’s Gambit Accepted, the Slav, and the Semi-Slav. No easy task.

Here, again, I used my (maybe) silly process of elimination to reduce my work. His c-pawn had not gone to c-6 in either of our two previous battles, so I let the Slav “complex” go. Besides, I had played the Semi-Slav for the last nine months and had also spent a considerable amount of time on the Slav (proper), so I felt I could find the moves at the board if I had to do so.

These opening eliminations were based on previous evidence, but I had no idea how good they were. The one thing I absolutely 100% for sure knew about my opponent was that he is a tactician. With this in mind, I knew I had to spend more time with my Dan Hiesman book (see last post for a review). However, time did not permit. Instead I spent my “free time” (e.g. feeding my beautiful baby) going through tactics in my head. I had to be ready for a tactical fight!

Being brand new to an opening can be quite a bear. Not a snuggly teddy bear – a mean hungry mad at you grizzly bear! So, even with my narrowed complex of openings to study, I still had my work cut out for me. For the Queen’s Gambit Accepted I booked up through move seven with vague (at best) ideas of how to continue in the late opening and early middle-game. I counted ‘a lot’ on finding plans and moves over the board. As for the Queen’s Gambit Declined I put in the time, blood, sweat, and tears. For the Semi-Tarrasch I memorized the first 25 moves of Polugaevsky-Tal, USSR Championship, Moscow 1969! That kinda’ work reminds me of my old Marshall Attack vs. the Ruy Lopez days, but sometimes you just have to put in the work. Hard work pays off – I believe! With so mush of my effort spent on the Semi-Tarrasch, I slacked a bit on the actual Tarrasch; I only went six to nine moves deep focusing on 6.g3 for white. For the “other” QGD variations I was prepped up to roughly move 11 and from there had various middle game plans. So, with all of this work accomplished I felt pretty good about my prospects. I had been a good student and it was time to be tested.

Tournament night came and I showed up at the club. I checked the pairings table to see what board we were playing on. Board #26. But WAIT! What’s this? NO! Nooo! Someone had taken a bye and the pairings had changed. Damn it all! All of my work shot to sh*t. (Haven’t I said that before?) Of course my hard work will pay off in the future, but it was doing nothing for me on this night! My new opponent was a Dutch player (no, he is not from the Netherlands; he is someone who plays 1...f5 against 1.d4.). I had nothing – nothing – prepared for the Dutch. You know the dream you have where you show up for a final exam, but you realize you have never attended the class? That is how I was feeling.

It got worse. My new opponent was an old friend. It is not very fun playing friends. A long time ago, when I was taught chess (real chess – not just the moves) my teacher told me, “We’re friends before the game; we’re friends after the game; during the game I’m gonna kill you!” I, myself, often find it hard to have this atavistic hunter attitude towards an opponent I like. But I would steal myself to the task. I had not played against this friend in years. In fact, we had not played each other since when we were both still young pups in the 1100 to 1200 ratings. We’d both come a long way since getting our teeth wet. I believe I had the upper hand in those old days (but would have to check my old score books to be sure). I do recall that we had some really fun games. In fact, in one of our old games I was able to get an Evan’s Gambit (with me as white), and I won! Playing the Evan’s Gambit is sooo~ 1850’s, but I have to admit that the romantic days of chess beckon us all at some time! We had both changed a lot since then. The last time we played a tournament game against each other was 2004 or 2005-ish. Since then I had gone on a three-year hiatus (as a high 1400 to low 1500 player) to focus on graduate studies, while he rose up the ratings ladder playing consistently and often reaching the 1700’s. I did know a bit about his play in the here and now though. For several years now he played the Bird as White and the French and Dutch as black. So, I was going to face the Dutch.

I HATE DUTCH PLAYERS. (Not really the people, but I do hate giving an opponent ‘what they want,’ and the Dutch, after 1.d4 f5, really is giving black what he wants.) In my head I repeated the mantra, “Friends before, friends after, during game – KILL!” SO now I had to face the Dutch – unprepared! Son of a *****.

Years (and years, and years) ago... I had experimented with the English Opening (1.c4) as white. The three or four games from back then are truly, deeply embarrassing; they should be posted on fail.com. But, over the last three or four months, I had been – for fun – studying the opening. My ‘feel’ for it was much better now. In my early games I felt like the European soccer kid shown a football for the first time and told “Kick it through those posts;” now I felt like that same kid who had kicked the odd shaped pigskin a whole heck-of-a-lot-a times! Funny at first, but you get a feel for it. Here’s the deal: Control the d5 square; fight on the queen-side, only push your central pawns 1) if you can, and 2) if you have to 3) you can control the center without ‘occupying’ it. [Side note: If you look at the game of Mike Nagaran, who I like a lot, I think his weakness in this opening is that he is all too ready to push d4 way too early; I think it is the ‘chink’ in his armor – though I am yet to PROVE it.] Two weeks back, during a weekend tournament, I kicked off a game 1.c4 for fun, and to my delight, my opponent replied 1...f5. My first thought was, “You fool; I am trying to control d5 and you are fighting for e4.” The ‘fool’ part might or might not be true, but there are some issues with the move order 1.c4 f5. The very first issue is that I have not played d4 yet so you are not really in a Dutch. Secondly, the Dutch does not fare very well against the English. I mentioned in my first post about how many players do not have a plan against the English. Let me add this addendum: Dutch players especially don’t have a ‘real’ strategy against the English. Their idea is to stick to their ideas. Unfortunately, since d4 has been omitted by white, they are playing a phantom on occasion. In that weekend game, my opponent threw everything at me (I think my forehead might still be bruised from the kitchen sink) and all he did was weaken his center and allow me to wait and then roll in and CRUSH him! So, based on this, I decided to start the game off against my new opponent with 1.c4.

A few astute readers might now be crying, “book reviews, he said he’d give book reviews.” Just wait they are coming. In fact, here’s the first. There are quite a few books out there on the English. In some of my past mini-reviews you’ll see why I ruled out some of the competition. This time, I’ll only deal with why I ruled in the current book. (Other books are all fair game. I make no judgment on them, one way or the other.) Looking at the English the last two or so months, I’d used Tony Kosten’s “The Dynamic English.” It is a very thin tome – coming in at 144 pages total. But the few pages are packed with ideas. Of course he gives ‘variations,’ but his ideas and explication are what really help in this book. Another interesting thing is that he takes and almost ‘systems’ based approach, where white (almost) always plays 1.d4 2.g3 3.Bg2 automatically. You never feel lost on move five (or even nine) – no matter the branches. I know I am no English ‘expert,’ but I do feel confident playing the opening when I want to. I know there are those that see my reviews and wonder why in the heck they are relevant. These readers want to see reviews by GMs or IMs, but I think that is totallt wrong headed. It is great to know what they think, yes. But, how do these works (these books) translate to us lowly people down in the trenches. That is hwy I give these reviews. I don’t even like to review books that have not had an impact on my practical play in tournament practice. So, these should be ‘sound’ reviews for us club players – the majority of us. We will never be IMs or GMs, but, can they pass knowledge on to us that directly has an affect on our games? That is the question I seek to answer in my reviews. With Kosten’s English book, I believe the answer is a resounding YES! Even though I have had no English ‘proper’ in my two 1.c4 games, and though he has only eight pages on the Dutch, my results bear out a good review. I understood the positions!

So now, let’s take a moment to talk about my game with my Dutch player (the second one) in the current tournament. I kicked off 1.c4 and he replied (predictably – like a Republican screaming “No taxes” or a Democrat “Protect out Unions”) with 1...f5. I felt like I had put cheese on the trap and was waiting and watching as the mouse approached. So predictable.

Now we had an English vs. Dutch situation. I had to keep in mind my strategy. Mainly, my fighting would be on the queen-side. Of course I would have to counter my opponent’s threats on the king side (that is where they always come form a Dutch player), but I had to look for my chances on the other side of the board. (This is where my post gets a little tricky. I could slip in my next mini-review here, but I think I’ll wait – just a little bit.) For a while my nemesis and I had a hard fought battle. Early on I could have played e4, but I wanted to ‘control the square’ more than I wanted to ‘occupy’ it, so I waited. Kosten, in his section on the Dutch, recommends playing e4, but with proper preparation and admits that you may never get to play it. I never got to play it. In fact, my e-pawn was still on its original square when the game ended.

As a ‘good’ Dutch player my opponent played e5 as soon as he thought he could. I was not happy with this, but I tolerated it. He had lots of pressure on my king side, as expected. I weathered the storm.

On move 29 he pushed a pawn at my kingside and y radar went off. He’s dropped a pawn! Free pawn, free pawn, free pawn! I looked up at the board to my opponent. His overly joyous face said with a threatening smile, “Go ahead; take it!” There is a lot (a whole lot) of psychology in chess. I decided to ignore that and look at the board. I spent about ten minutes calculating all of the variations that ensue after I take that pawn. The majority of them (in fact all where he plays ‘best’ moves) result in a vicious attack against me. I only went about eight moves deep on each of the variations, but in each, his attack was well designed and I lost more pawns after taking the pawn and he was just winning. If I took the pawn, his bishop and rook communicated too well and he had a beautiful position for it. He had a strong attack! I could not allow that.

THAT PAWN IS NOT FOR FREE!

So now we can have our second mini-review. I usually hate to review a book until I have 1) read the whole book, and 2) put it to use. Here, however, I have put it to use even without reading the whole book. And the use has worked. Worked like gangbusters! The book is “Chess Secrets: The Giants of Strategy” by Neil McDonald. This book is, as advertised, is about strategy. Very early in he states, “A strategic plan consists of ideas, not a series of individual moves.” Sounds simple. Not so simple when sitting at the board. However, having these words, and their meaning, more importantly, in your mind, really do help during a game. I often find myself, during a game, like I expect many other players, running through series after series of moves, calculating variations and more variations. There are times where this MUST BE DONE, but there are many – too many – times where (I think) we should just come up with an idea, and follow through with that. The first chapter of this book is on the seventh rank. The second chapter is on the outpost and the open file. The second chapter helped me in a previous game. I have read the second chapter twice. The first chapter helped me in this game. I have read (at this time) this chapter three times. [I have not yet read the third chapter or beyond.] Based on the first two chapters alone the book is worth the price and time!

After seeing that this pawn sacrifice by my evil minded opponent was meant to drag me to hell, I had to do something else. For a little while now I had been trying to ‘pick on’ his b7 pawn. I looked again at this pawn and saw that it was weak. I also noticed that with three moves I could maneuver my knight over there and win the pawn comfortably. This is all based on rooks on the seventh rank. Keep this in mind. Next I checked his king side attack. As long as I declined the (falsely) free pawn it would take four moves for him to activate the attack over there. Then I checked and saw that the attack was longer without me taking the pawn and that he would need some more moves to try to open it up; in fact, he would have to sacrifice his bishop to try to queen a pawn. Effing YIKES; my opponent can queen his pawn. From there I was almost destitute. I looked further at my attack on the lonely b7 pawn. Now I had a strategy and he had a queening pawn. I had to calculate. As I calculated I found that after he sacrifices his piece to queen I had a little in between move (an intermezzo) that allows me 1) mate in one if he queens, and 2) if he reacts ‘properly’ he is now down a piece and a pawn, and because the pawn cannot queen he will soon be down a piece and two pawns.

How did I find all of this? First I was following Kosten’s advice to play on the queen-side. Second, I used McDonald’s book and looked for a plan, not a series of moves. Now, of course, with a plan involved, moves come into play, so I followed my old coach’s (Mario Amodeo) advice and looked for forcing moves. One thing Mario was always quick to point out was that a mate in one threat was the MOST forcing move. Obvious – yes, but try to remember to calculate to that in your next game!

So, with all of this in mind, I declined my opponents sneaky sacrifice and offered (in a few moves) a temporary sacrifice of my own. He bit on the line. I caught me a big fish with little to no bait. His own greed was about to kill him. In my – best for him – calculation he only lost a pawn and had a worse position. But, luckily for me, he played into the “queening” line.

I played my move that forces mate in one and he, consumed by greed, grabbed his queen and pushed the pawn. Then he looked at the board and said, “Aw~ shit!” And the game was over. Thank you Mr. Kosten. Thank you Mr. McDonald. Thank you Mr. Amodeo. Remembering what all of you all said just helped me win my game! An interesting side note is that my e-pawn never did move (as stated earlier), but played an important role in protecting my kingside.

Postscript: Next week I am paired against Chuck Ensey. I have never beaten him. However, he is also a predictable guy. I know that he is an Alekhine’s Defense against 1.e4 kind of guy. I have some lines prepared for him! I’m gunning for you Chuck!

Bringing my C to a B

My last post heaped praise on Lakdawala’s “Play the London System.” In fact, it went so far as to credit the book (and the system) for my rise from a C to a B player. That was all true. But... it was not the whole truth. In this post I’ll add some important details. Fill in the gaps. Tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me Great Butternut Squash!

To do this I’ll end up giving reviews of several more books. Some of these reviews will be more thorough than others. None of these will be as thorough as Lakdawala’s review. Sorry. That’s just how things are.

I’ll begin with a trip down memory lane. Every story has a back-story. (Not every story needs to be fully explicated... a lesson George Lucas’s last three Star Wars films sadly showed.) But this case is different. For this story I believe the back-story sets the stage and let’s us know everything we need to know about our protagonist and his plight.

In June of 2010 I returned to tournament chess after a three-year hiatus. When I began graduate school I boxed up and hid all of my chess books and stopped chess cold. I knew I could not (at the beginning at least) balance chess and school. I am too obsessive, too compulsive. So, thinking of my future (financially), I said good-bye to chess (temporarily). I allowed all of my obsessive-compulsive energies to be directed into my studies! When summer 2010 rolled around I only had thesis left to complete for my degree. I knew that then I could again begin (return to) chess. BUT (there’s always a BUT – not really a dirty word... is it?)... I wanted to come back differently.

There are two main ways one can play chess differently. One can play tactically vs. positionally. Or one can change one’s opening repertoire. (The two may often overlap.) I decided to change my opening repertoire.

So, what was my old opening rep.? As white I played 1.e4. I played main lines. No dodges! You play the Najdorf; I hit you with the English Attack! No “Anti-Sicilians” for me; no siree. You play the French; meet my Winawer! No compromises! I booked up on theory. As black, against 1.e4, I met you with 1...e5 aiming for a Marshall Attack in the Ruy Lopez, but I had no problem fighting my opponent in his or her Scotch, Vienna, Italian, etc. Again, all main lines! As for meeting 1.d4, I sprung out the King’s Indian. Let the attack begin!

I did pretty okay with this repertoire. With this repertoire and Cyrus’s coaching (I highly recommend him BTW), I went from low 1200 to low 1500 in two years. (300 points) Pretty darned good! However, even with these past promising results, I still wanted a change.

I’ll start with my changes as black since these came easiest. Against 1.d4 I decided to adopt the Semi-Slav. I have always been fascinated with the Botvinnik variation of this line, so I decided to take it up. Based on my choice for a defense against 1.d4, I decided that I would bring the Caro-Kann into my repertoire. I had actually played this a few times in the past and had never lost a game with it. I have a 1900 friend who to his great chagrin has never beaten me in a tournament game, and I always brought this out against him. It was kind of a joke, but now I would bring it in for real. I liked the idea that the black pawn structures for both the Semi-Slav and the Caro-Kann are rather similar. Those of you who know the Botvinnik variation are probably screaming “No they are not!” and you are right. So, I decided to avoid that variation – heck, the real game doesn’t even begin until well after move 20 or later. With this in mind I went with the more sane “Moscow Variation” in the Semi-Slav. Now that I had my defenses in mind I had to learn them. Now that I had to learn them I had to read some books. Now that I have read those books I can give a few more “mini” reviews.

I’ll start with the Semi-Slav books. The first book I went to was Glenn Flear’s “Starting Out: Slav and Semi-Slav.” It was, like most of the “Starting Out” books published by Everyman, a real nice get your feet wet kind of book. I absolutely love Flear’s “The Ruy Lopez Main Line,” and that book was the backbone of my 1.e4 repertoire (even though few opponents ever had the guts to actually play a main line against me), so I had to read his Slav book. This book – the Slav book – however, like most of the “Starting Out” books, really is best for just getting a feel of the opening. It did do one very nice thing for me though. I had been (in my inner self) vacillating between the Slav (proper) and the Semi-Slav. After reading the book and playing through the games it did help me reach the conclusion that at that time the Semi-Slav was the Slav for me. And that is very, VERY useful to know! So, the verdict on Flear’s book is, if you are going to play the Slav or Semi-Slav, and have no prior knowledge then START THERE! Now that I had fully chosen the Semi-Slav, I needed another – deeper – book.

It was tough making the decision on which Semi-Slav book to spend my precious time with. There are four out there (that I know of) that should be top quality: one by Matthew Sadler and one by David Vigorito. Steffen Pederson also has a two volume set with “The Botvinnik Semi-Slav” and “The Meran System.” Using a process of weeding out, I first knew that I wanted just one book. Based on this, Pederson was out. Then it came down to Sadler vs. Vigorito. I am always a fan of Sadler and how he thinks and writes. I love his Q & A method and I liked that his book had over 125 main games. BUT (the dirty, dirty word “but”) his book was from 1998 and reprinted in 2003, while Vigorito’s book was fresh from 2008. That little five to ten year gap sold me on investing in Vigorito’s book.

Vigorito’s “Play the Semi-Slav” is from Quality Chess (which is kind of funny because Jacob Aagaard is one of the editors, and I usually love to pick on him as a writer, but he appears to be one heck of an amazing editor – good editor ≠ good writer, and bad writer ≠ bad editor (apparently)). First off, Vigorito does not have the same Q & A format I love so much from Sadler. [Insert frowny face here.] Secondly, Vigorito only has 50 main games as opposed to Sadler’s more than 125. [Another frowny face.] And now the “sunshine!” Vigorito’s book, like most of Sadler’s, is very aware of “move order” issues. He walks you through each line and is always ready to point out where move order matters and where lines can cross. Also, his book, unlike Sadler’s, is a repertoire book. It follows the lines after 1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6. He walks you everything including the “exchange Slav.” Sadler’s book must have the first five moves meet book. Vigorito’s book gets you playing from white’s 3^rd move! “Two paltry moves,” you say?!, I say, “That means the world!” His analysis is clear and he uses lots of verbal explication to walk you through the IDEAS of the variations (rather than way too many innocuous lines). I think this book is a must have for any player taking up the Semi-Slav. (The inclusion of Sadler’s or Pederson’s books is just an added bonus.) [Funny side note: not once in 9 months did I get a real semi-slav (kinda like the ruy lopez main line), but I was always ready!)

Now, let’s talk about Caro-Kann books. For my employment of the Caro-Kann against my 1900 friend who never beat me (one draw, four wins (HA! Rob)) I used Gallagher’s “Starting Out: the Caro-Kann” from Everyman. I cannot say enough how much these books in this series are GREAT for just Starting Out (like the title says!). However, to build a repertoire around the opening I knew I needed more. There are TONS of books out there on the Caro-Kann. I needed to narrow my field. First, I wanted a complete repertoire against 1.e4. From this it looks like I have two choices: Eric Schiller’s “Complete Defense to King Pawn Openings” and Lars Schandorff’s “Grandmaster Repertoire: The Caro-Kann.” The titles alone might say which one I went with, but let me explain my motivations. At club level, the variation you should most expect to meet is the “advance variation.” Schiller’s is a 1998, 2003 book and Schandorff’s is a 2010 book. However, even with age vs. newness, I want the best lines! Schiller has always been “suspect” (at best) in his analysis and recommendations, and here he proves it again. He recommends either the Kavelek Variation or the Botvinnik-Carls Gambit against the advance variation. No siree! I want real solidity! I chose Schandorff’s book! So, how’d this book work out for me? Pretty damned nice! I suffered two losses in the Caro-Kann. Both my fault! The first loss was a real lame one. My opponent played 6. Nge2 and immediately my “spider senses” went into overtime! I knew – I damned well knew – that this move had been refuted just prior to and was addressed in the book for Tal-Botvinnik 1960! {Side Note: The Tal-Botvinnik 1960 book by Tal is one of the BEST chess books of ALL TIME. It belongs on all chess book selves!} What I absolutely could not remember was the actual refutation! Damn! And I paid the price! I went straight home from the humiliating loss and found the “proper” line that saves black and punishes white! NEXT TIME MY FRIEND, next time! Forgetting theory is NOT a (the) books fault; it is yours. The other loss I suffered was in a main line Caro-Kann where after we each banged out the first 11 moves of theory in less than two minutes, I questioned the theory. Rather than bring my dark square bishop to e7 (it almost always goes there) I decided to bring it to d6 – I was afraid of Ne5 (the knight almost always goes there) – deal with it. My position slowly began to crumble due to my in accuracy. What is worse is that I had a draw and still missed it at the end of the middle game. But that is no fault of the Schandorff book. It is my fault for not following it! If you want to take up the Caro-Kann to FIGHT against 1.e4 I highly recommend Schandorff’s book! It is amazing! While it “creeps in” with only about 24 FULL illustrated games, it still packs a punch!

Now we reach my 1.e4 to 1.d4 switch. Yes, at first I was a klutz! I scored wins because patzers played things like an early Bf5 in the Slav which were incorrect! These wins were not due to any book knowledge or me; they were due to blatant errors by my opponents. And then I met “The London System!” [See my last post for more on this.]

I am a big believer in openings. BUT Damn that word), I will be the first to admit that openings will only get you so far. So, what else contributed to my escalation from C to B player? I said I wanted to “change” things, and I did! I had (read previous post) previously studied under Cyrus Lakdawala. He is a rock solid IM who has plenty to offer the straggling 1500 player! Hell, he can offer a lot to a 2200 player, I bet! But I wanted “different.” So I decided to study under Mario Amodeo. He is a candidate master who teaches in the San Diego area as well. I thought, what the heck, I’ll give him a try. Cyrus is big on openings and computer analysis! My kinda guy!!!! However, in my “new” vein of “different” I wanted to do away with computers and too much opening analysis. How was Mario? Mario cared about openings; all chess coaches do. But (ß a good but) he was open to my “lack” of care about the openings. He wanted me to focus on tactics, tactics, tactics! This was kind of amusing (at first) since the three openings heading my rep. (the London, the Semi-Slav (Moscow), and the Caro) are all rather “free” of tactics, but it did “pay-off!” My opening choices were defensive in nature and relatively tactic free, but I did have to watch out for (and wait for) tactics (to arrive). He really set me up for success! With Mario’s tactics focus I needed a book. Yep, another book. I decided on Dan Heisman’s “Back to Basics: Tactics.” The book is geared for (as said by the author) the under 1500 player, but I figured as an under 1600 player I better darned well know this book! And it worked! No matter your rating, you should be able to handle this book! Is it simple? Yes. Does it pay off? Yes. Know it! I recommend it for anyone under 1800; you better now your stuff! (Yes, that was another “mini” book review slipped in.) Another FUN thing Mario had me do was study the Nimzo-Indian, even though I was playing the Semi-Slav. His idea is that it helps “chess understanding” in general. I believe he is right. Mario’s tutelage absolutely helped me to the next level! (This is NOT to say that Lakdawala’s wouldn’t have. The point was I wanted “different.” Either coach will help you progress, they just go about things differently!)

So, what helped me cross the C to B barrier? Was it a change of repertoire? Was it a focus on tactics (in non-tactical openings?)? Was it a change of coaches? Was it the three-year break? Who is to say? What I do know is that I broke the barrier and all of these things were involved. I can now defend (like the Caro-Kann) an attack and wait for my chances. When tactics do arise I am more aware! And (despite the lack of discussion about it on here (so far)) I am one heck of a good end game player – just look at my high percentage of draws to see that. [Ask Joel Batchelor who made me prove from move 30-ish until move 83 that I can hold a draw! – if I have to.]

I’m coming for you A players! You are my new target! And, of course, I will not stop at you; Experts and Masters beware! I may change my openings. I may change my coaches, but I’ll never change my attitude. I am gonna rise up the ladder!

Review of Cyrus Lakdawala's "Play the London System"

Late last August I was paired against a strong expert. There was (at that time) a ratings difference of 499 points between us! ...with me on the bad end of this one. About the only thing I had going for me was the predictable nature my opponent. As white he rather religiously plays the English opening. I, like way too many club players, had no real planned defense for meeting 1.c4 (especially since I had just come off – a month and a half before – a three-year chess hiatus. Unfortunately, most players don’t even have that excuse). So I dutifully spent a week preparing.

The night came. We exchanged pleasantries. We shook hands. We wished each other luck. I started his clock. Then came the first blow – 1.d4! No! No, no, no! All of my preparation shot to sh*t. (Not really, I do now have a reasonable defense against the English, but that was not helping me in this game anymore.) Breath deep. Focus. Okay, it’s 1.d4, no problem. He is now out of his “church of the English.” Now I can settle down into the familiar waters of my own precious Semi-Slav defense. I replied 1...d5. I was frothing at the mouth waiting to push my pawn to c6 after his pawn went to c4. And then came the CRUSHER, 2.Bf4! What the...?! And yes, it was the London System. In Aagaard & Lund’s book on the Tarrasch Defense “Meeting 1 d4” they give the system one game and after move 3 make this statement, “The London System, also known as the Old Man’s Bad Habit. Not dangerous and not very interesting.” I knew that IM Cyrus Lakdawala had just written an opening manual on the London, and wondered if the editors at Everyman Chess had had him address such proclamations. For the moment, though, that did not matter. I was now in for a boring game. In fact, I was insulted that my opponent thought so little of me that he’d roll out this mere triviality against me. I would bet that my jaw clenched and my face turned a purplish-red. Aagaard & Lund’s little quote lulled me into a false sense of safety; since the system is not dangerous I just needed to get my pieces out and then see where we go. Ha! On move six I blundered with a normal developing move. And on move seven followed with another normal developing move, and rather than just dropping a piece I was in for a lonely king march across the board into an inevitable mate! How’s that for “not dangerous?”

My opponent – by the way he is a flesh and blood human, a really nice one named Mike Nagaran – did not crush me with the power of his opening. He just led me down a path where I would crush myself, and crush myself I did! And early! As early as move 6!

Years back I had studied under Cyrus Lakdawala. In two years under his coaching I went from a low 1200 player to a 1500 player. Now he had a book on the London System. I knew I had to get the book and find the best defense against the system. I acquired the book in less than a week and began to read.

First, I must confess that I am an openings books maniac. I spend way too much time studying openings. I have no less than 15 books on the Ruy Lopez alone (three of them devoted solely to the Marshall Attack!). True I did play both sides of the Lopez (and Marshall), but this many books could be overkill.

Now that we have our context, I am ready to talk about “Play the London System” by Cyrus Lakdawala. My intention when buying the book was to use it to find the most solid line for black to play against it. I am a big believer in – what I call – the “opposite” school of openings books. For example, if you play 1.e4 and need a line against the French, don’t buy a book (or at least don’t rely on it) titled “Beating the French” and follow some dubious theoretical dodge that is the backbone (all too often) of such books. Instead, bury yourself in “Win with the French” and find the most testing lines and make them your own! With this rationale in mind, I settled down with the book and began to read.

He had me at “a Slav a move up.” From the second sentence of the introduction, I was already adding the London System to my opening repertoire! From there it only got better. Before the introduction is even finished Lakdawala is talking about his dogs and in particular a misbehaved one and how chess players are one of two types, like his dogs. All of this had me smiling. All opening books have one important job: get me through the opening and into a middle game that i understand. This book – like countless others on the market – does do that. It is well organized. The chapters are divided into the different defenses black can attempt and offers solid lines against each. Usually it offers white two options: one super solid and one that is maybe a bit more dubious but testing. So, as an opening book, it does its job.

What makes this book better than many out there is the author. He HAD FUN writing the book, and consequently I had fun reading it. Yes, if I need to read a book, I will. But, so many times you get, right at the outset, the feeling that the author cranked out the book grudgingly, only for the money and that it was not what they really wanted to do. Aagaard, is again, a good example. In his “Queen’s Indian Defence” for Everyman, he spends his preface complaining that it is not the book he would have preferred to have written. He wanted a two-volume work addressing 19 different pawn structures and running about 300 pages. The publisher said "no," so this is the book he is stuck writing and you now have to suffer through a book that he would have preferred not write. Aagaard (and this book) is an extreme example, but all too often reading a chess book can feel like reading the dry technical manual for the assembly and installation of some part of your home entertainment center. You suffer through the cold impersonal writing because you have to. Lakdawala’s book is anything but cold and impersonal. It is much more like sitting in his den studying the opening while drinking coffee and joking around. It was nice to read a technical manual (and that is what a chess book should be) that was also fun! Often we have to go back to our opening books to look up the line that we misplayed at move 10, 12, 14 or wherever. Rarely do we go back to our openings book and open it to find jokes about the author’s misspent youth or trying to bore our opponents with dull lines. But with this book I constantly find myself doing just that. I don’t just read it for the chess. I read it for the READING!

Okay, so I liked the book both as a chess book and because it is fun to read. Big deal. Right? Well, the book did a little more than just entertain me. I did bring the London into my repertoire. I began using it in September and had outstanding success with it. I had some really fun wins and more than a handful of draws. Draws! Yuck! No! But wait. I was drawing players 400 points above me! They were helpless. Of course they did not want the draw. One player was so livid that we were going to draw (this was obvious by move 30-ish) that he made me play the game out to move 83 when we reached the position with just two kings on the board. Poor Joel Batchelor! Rated 300 points above me he felt entitled to more. The London denied him his “rightful” win. Too bad, so sad! With the London System heading my repertoire as white I climbed up the ratings ladder 100 points in 7 months! Now I have three reasons to recommend the book: 1) Good solid chess 2) Fun reading and 3) Success! Even if you are not going to become a Londite, you can follow my school of opposite openings books and have your prepared line against the Londoner. Enjoy.

Postscript: I am now employing some “sharper” openings with white (as of three weeks ago), but I do plan on keeping the London as a useful weapon in my arsenal. I need something to torture the Joels of this world!