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!