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...