An examination of training and practical concepts for the improving chessplayer
28 August 2020
Annotated Game #250: Learning an opening the hard way
22 August 2020
Bad chess attitudes #3: My losses are too painful; everything is good in my wins; draws are just boring; so no need to look at my games
Bad attitude #3 (expanded version): my losses are due to blunders too painful to look at; everything must have been good with my wins; draws are indecisive (and boring); so there is no need to analyze my games afterwards.
The above sentence I think sums up well my own (superficial) attitude about my games for the majority of my chess career, starting at the scholastic level. This sort of reaction to our results I believe is fairly common and is even understandable, while unproductive.
- It is in fact difficult to relive losses, especially ones involving painful blunders. This is the first hurdle to get over. Giving yourself a bit of time before fully reviewing the game can help, as after a day or a week the emotional reaction is lessened and you can look at the game score more objectively.
- A certain amount of work and energy is necessary. This means saving full game analysis until after a tournament, for example, when you are more hungry for chess again. Recording some initial comments and thoughts can help capture your thinking process in the moment - a good time for this is while you are putting a game into your personal database - but it will be more productive to save the heavy lifting for later.
- Feeding games to an engine in order to see where you and your opponent blundered, then filing them away does not count as analyzing your games. This was part of my own practice for over a decade of non-improvement (see "The Long Journey to Class A"). It is now even easier to do this, thanks to the capability for near-instant "analysis" of games on major chess sites (such as Chess.com). In reality, this consists of a single engine pass that evaluates positions at a relatively low ply (move) level. This may have some use as an immediate blunder-check tool, along with its entertainment value; however, judging from public comments, many players take it far too seriously.
- Your wins and draws contain just as many lessons for improvement as your losses. Serious work will reveal flaws in your wins, sometimes even more so than in your losses. (This may be part of why people avoid performing an objective analysis of all of their serious games.) It will also highlight strong moves and ideas that you found, as well as general patterns of your strengths and weaknesses over time. This type of self-knowledge and increased chess understanding cannot come from any other source.
19 August 2020
Video completed: "Why You Should Always Have a Plan" by Tatev Abrahamyan
"Why You Should Always Have a Plan" is the seventh video in the Chess.com series by Tatev Abrahamyan. I've resumed going through them after being distracted by various things. The main point of this lesson is to continue to actively plan at all stages of the game, including while playing with a winning advantage. In other words, don't just assume that once you achieve a comfortable position, even one where you should win, you can just coast for the rest of the game.
The first example game is Akobian-Caruana from the 2017 U.S. Championship. Caruana is up two connected passed pawns in the late middlegame, which should be enough to win. A apparently careless move by Black drops a pawn, then after a rook exchange they end up in a Q+N endgame with just the one extra passed pawn for Caruana - which again should be enough to win. Black passes up a chance to grab back a pawn and then White is able to get an annoying pin on his knight. Getting out of this, Black opens himself up for a knight sac tactic that would result in a perpetual check. White did not in fact play this, which turns out to be lucky for him, as later Black blunders and drops his knight, losing. It's not mentioned whether the two are in time trouble or not - which seems likely - but the game is still a good illustration of why even strong players cannot simply go on autopilot with what should be a winning advantage.
The second game is GM Alejandro Ramirez vs. GM Le Quang Liem, from round 5 of the 2019 Gibraltar Masters tournament. Abrahamyan points out how White followed an incorrect plan in the early middlegame starting on move 15, moving his knights without much purpose around the queenside instead of focusing on available kingside targets, with complex play. The outcome was poor placement of the White knights and giving some free improving moves for Black, who then was able to target White's weaknesses and collapse his position relatively quickly.
The final example is FM Carissa Yip - FM Annie Wang from the 2019 U.S. Women's Championship. Abrahamyan highlights how well White has set herself up in this Classical Sicilian, but in the middlegame she does not find a good plan to go from there. Black in contrast has a clear plan to play on the queenside, attacking White's castled king position. White decides to force the issue in the center, where she has built up her forces, but the resulting exchanges actually give Black better central pawn control and free up her pieces as well. The resulting attack is instructive, with Black bringing all her pieces into play while White's pieces all end up on the kingside, providing little help.
In each example game there are opportunities to pause and look at some key positions, which helps make the lessons more engaging beyond the overall theme, which underlines how drifting planless in the middlegame (or endgame) is a bad idea.
17 August 2020
Annotated Game #249: Hanging in for counterplay
Rather than give up, I continue playing on, actively looking for counterplay. As Komodo points out, objectively I was lost, but I knew that certain weaknesses in my opponent's position - primarily his exposed king - gave me the possibility of some practical opportunities, if my opponent was not careful. By hanging in, I was eventually able to take away much, if not all, of his advantage, finding a skewer tactic to roughly even the material balance.
The endgame was still a big challenge, first with the tactically tricky 2R v R+2B, then a second nail-biting phase with R v 3P, which I deliberately entered. Although we were both tired from the long game and in the secondary time control, I feel I did well overall in finding the right continuations, with the exception of missing (as did my opponent) a winning idea for him.
Game analysis highlighted several of my weaknesses, as it should, but on a more general level it also showed one of my strengths, which is identifying potential avenues for counterplay when losing, then hanging in the game until my opponent opens one up. Part of the reason for this is the added mental focus that one gets when in trouble - which I naturally would prefer to start applying earlier, before I get into trouble.
10 August 2020
Bad chess attitudes #2: My opponent disrespects their clock and must be punished
Old school clock, perennial issue |
This attitude can afflict chessplayers who consider themselves to be conscientious about time management. It is a common reaction to those opponents who show up late to a tournament game, which means their clock has significantly run down before they start playing, or to opponents who get massively behind on time and have to blitz out a number of moves to make the time control. Both of these things, of course, can occur in the same game.
The objective result of this situation is always an advantage to the player with more time on their own clock. However, even if you have more time on the clock, a misguided emotional reaction to the situation can disrupt your own game more than that of your opponent. Rather than focusing on playing as excellently as you can, which I think for an improving player should be the goal of every serious game, it is common to instead start trying to punish your opponent for their misuse of time. This attitude typically manifests itself in choosing to play more quickly than you know you should, to try to pressure your opponent into moving more quickly themselves. In essence, it is a decision to pursue a negative strategy (trying to force the opponent to make bad moves) rather than a positive one (focus on making good moves yourself).
The obvious problem with this strategy is that it puts you on roughly the same level as your opponent in terms of actual time usage. This means you end up playing your opponent's kind of game, rather than your own. Time-trouble "aficionados" - or "addicts" or whatever you choose to call them - by definition have a lot of experience in playing rapidly. This means they are used to it and maybe even enjoy it, especially if they play a lot of blitz chess. I believe it is a fundamental error to think you will successfully rattle your opponent by altering your own playing style for the worse. Occasionally it might work, but relying on luck (for your opponent to play badly) while deliberately compromising your own excellence of play is a bad idea in itself, and is not likely to be a winning strategy over time.
Instead, a practical approach to time management is to develop a general game plan for your clock usage at the selected time control - then stick to that plan, regardless of what your opponent does. This means consciously calculating your expected average time per move and using that as a cutoff point for think time, making an exception only if you are in a critical position. For example, GM John Nunn in Secrets of Practical Chess recommends forcing a cutoff of the thinking process when you cannot decide between two moves with very similar evaluations after a reasonable period of calculation/thought. Basically, you pick one on intuition and do a blunder check before going with it. This practice can help reduce unproductive mental wheel-spinning, since in many positions without forcing continuations, it is easy to simply keep calculating different possibilities with no real resolution.
A common thread for this bad attitude and #1 on openings is focusing excessively on how your opponent is choosing to play. In reality, you have little to no influence over their move choices or how they use their clock, which means your mental energy is much better spent on improving your own game. Like many things that seem simple and obvious, it is not always easy to enforce this kind of mental discipline during a game. Deliberately committing to an efficient time management plan and positively focusing on the quality of your own play, however, should provide a strong foundation for your game, regardless of what your opponent does.
06 August 2020
Bad chess attitudes #1: My opponent spoiled my opening
Many things can hold us back in our quest for chess improvement. One of the things that we can control (and improve) is our attitude towards chess, both at the board and away from it. Attitude directly affects our behavior and decisions, which in turn affect the outcomes we get at the board. This is why "chess psychology" is not some esoteric or academic topic, but in fact a very practical one for improving players.
I'll be highlighting in a short series of posts some bad chess attitudes that can actively harm our progress. To avoid being seen as too judgmental, I'll only share ones that I've struggled with myself.
From tigerlilov.com |
This is an attitude you see a lot among amateurs, but almost never among masters. It is born out of frustration at frequently not reaching your favorite opening lines, ones that you've put so much time and effort into preparing. The attitude reveals an emotional attachment to particular lines and their aesthetics, which are then mentally built up into some sort of chessic ideal - which is then "spoiled" on the board by the opponent, who refuses to cooperate in creating this artistic masterpiece. I think having aesthetic value as part of your opening selections is actually helpful, since it is part of why we derive pleasure from chess as a game and an art, but becoming mentally wedded to some sort of "pure" type of opening position is not.
One common example is on the Black side of Sicilians, where amateurs can enthusiastically undertake preparation of lines in complicated systems (Dragon, Najdorf, etc.). These often get derailed at the board as early as move 2 or 3, which then results in complaints about opponents' poor attitudes or worthiness as chess players because they choose to avoid the "best" lines. This kind of reaction ignores the fact that your opponent always gets an equal vote in chess: it's called their move. It is just common sense, however, that if your opponent plays a move that is not theoretically best, but is nonetheless good or at least not a blunder, getting upset about it or wanting to "punish" it will not be very productive for you on the chessboard.
As with many things that are bad for us, social influence and pressure are factors that help create this kind of attitude. "Best" openings are frequently argued about, with fashionable variations or whole opening complexes pushed heavily in publications and public forums. This gives us the social phenomenon of opening popularity, which doesn't necessarily have anything to do with opening effectiveness for you. Similarly, out-of-fashion openings are put down or ignored. We no longer see so much the Sveshnikov Sicilian against 1. e4, or the Grunfeld against 1. d4, or the Spanish game (Ruy Lopez) as White at top levels. Yet all were considered to be the top choices of professionals not so long ago - and may again be, in the future. No doubt you can think of your own examples.
It should be understood that at the top GM level, variations or openings tend to become unpopular because near-forcing drawing lines have been worked out in them, or it is found over time (and numerous practical examples) that one side (typically White) gets a slight plus with best theoretical play. However, this assumes that both players know how to play at that level and have worked out what to do through the middlegame or even the endgame (such as with the Berlin Wall variation of the Spanish game, which has frustrated professional-level White players). However, what is considered best for the 2600+ crowd at a particular time, while interesting to know, is not necessarily the best guide for your own play.
The most effective antidote for too often being a "taker" of others' opinions on openings is simple, but sometimes hard to do: think and evaluate for yourself. This is absolutely necessary to make progress in all phases of chess, but may be harder to do for openings, since so much material has been published on them. Your own evaluation of particular lines can of course be guided by "expert" opinion, but it should always be a conscious choice and for reasons that you understand. Otherwise your play and results will suffer, even if someone else (or an engine) has informed you that the position you reached was the "best" possible. The fact that any sound opening is playable, at any level, should be remembered. If you do at least semi-serious opening research, you will also inevitably find that "experts" disagree over time - and even at the same point in time - about their evaluations of variations, reinforcing the point that your own judgment is what counts most in the end.
Fundamentally, the purpose of the opening phase is for you to reach a playable middlegame position. This means one that is not clearly advantageous to the opponent, and contains elements and plans that you can understand and execute over the board. This seems like a simple proposition, but it is violated a lot in practice. We need to remember that opening preparation and analysis should be a tool for us to use for our own ends, not to blindly follow.
A modern-day analogy is the relationship we have with our phones: are they consciously used by us as an information and communications tool, understanding the trade-offs in time and efficiency involved? Or do we forego an active role and simply react to it, like a dog in Pavlov's experiment believing that it's always dinnertime when they hear something buzz? You decide.
From verywellmind.com |