Chess thread

[tikay]

Very chess content light; almost entirely narrative. One of the best known stories in chess: Bobby Fischer v Boris Spassky.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d/0571214126/ref=mp_s_a_6?pi=46x75&qid=1346274887&sr=8-6





And the best chess film - genuinely highlights the strange world of junior chess - is Innocent Moves (later retitled The Search for Bobby Fischer):     

This book I must have!

Note to self - Waterstones, Kingston upon Thames, first thing tomorrow.

[Tal]

The stories are great and balance the thread. Who in the chess world could be described as the Stu Ungar of chess and why please?

An interesting question. Cross-game/sport comparisons are something the press like to do (“he’s the Lionel Messi of snooker”...“he’s the Muhammad Ali of table tennis”...“she’s the Don Bradman of badger baiting”) and, although the comparisons are a bit false (none of these people set out to be anything other than brilliant in their own right), I can certainly offer a list of possible suspects. I love making comparisons

The obvious one is Bobby Fischer. He was an American for starters. He was a child prodigy, blessed with a brilliant gift, who took on the (USSR) establishment and won. He had his demons throughout his life and this led to his demise: an unpleasant and tortured fall from Grace. He died in exile, a shell of the man he once was. He was terrifically outspoken and, curiously, completely unable to understand sarcasm.

We have also discussed Paul Morphy, who was the best player in the world without question for some time, but retired from chess at 22 and never played competitively again.

Fischer’s style of play was similar to someone half a century before him: the Cuban master José Raùl Capablanca (these names all sound exotic until you translate them into English: Joe Whitehead, anyone?). Capablanca was himself a prodigy, beating the Cuban champion at just 12. He was an outstanding rapid player (where you play with 30-60mins each on the clock – doesn’t sound “rapid” but time controls at the highest level tend to give players 3-4 hours each) and won a tournament ahead of the World Champion (Lasker) at 18. By this time, he had moved to New York (he actually played baseball to a high standard) and he was merciless in simultaneous displays across the US.

Capablanca trounced the fearless American master Frank Marshall 15-8 in a sponsored match and Marshall insisted that his victor be included in the upcoming San Sebastian tournament of 1911, featuring the absolute best in the world (with the exception of the World Champion, Lasker). Despite objections to a relatively unproven 22 year old being invited to play against the elite, Capablanca produced a series of dazzling games, winning the tournament with six wins, seven draws and just one loss (that game being regarded as one of the greatest single game performances of all time – by Akira Rubenstein).

Unlike some of the characters we have seen on this thread, Capablanca was cautious in his style, developing his pieces quietly – generally nothing flamboyant – and outplaying his opponent with his incredible endgame technique. He drew fewer games than most, simply because he was able to outplay people from level positions in endgames (this is something Carlsen has been known to do in the modern game).

 After he became World Champion in 1921, beating Lasker over 14 games 9-5 without losing a game, he went on an impressive run of games, tournament and matches, becoming seemingly invincible. He played a 103 board simultaneous match and won 102, drawing just one. Between 1916 and 1924, he lost no games in top flight competition. He was, of course, the darling of the Cuban media, as well as the New York press, with no less than Che Guevara being a fan. He married but the relationship was troubled and, despite it bringing a child, it wasn’t meant to be. He lost both of his parents in the mid-1920s.

Capablanca was noted for his lack of diplomacy when discussing his games. He wrote a book in which he essentially told his readers that he had included everything a chess student would ever need to know. He even claimed to have “solved” chess; to have taken it as far as it could be taken. He invented new pieces to make the game more interesting, with a 10x8 board. He lost the world title in 1927 to Alekhine in a titanic battle over 34 games (often the title was decided by the first player to reach a certain number of wins and, here, there were 25 draws between them). The two players fell out during the match quite dramatically, with accusations flying both ways and demands that appearance fees be higher than the other person’s.

 

This was the start of the decline for Capablanca. Over the next few years, his speed of play slowed and he began to struggle on the clock, which was utterly inconceivable when at his best. In 1931, he retired from competitive chess, but for the odd exhibition.     

Like Mr Ungar, Capablanca made a comeback. Despite some excellent results against the elite players in the mid-1930s (including the new names like Botvinnik), he suffered from high blood pressure and his concentration was affected. Alekhine refused a World Title challenge when war was declared (Alekhine was now a French citizen). Capablanca was never the same as when in his heyday, though; he was just about invincible in the early and mid-1920s. He died at 53 from his blood pressure.

He is still regarded by some as the greatest player ever.

For offering something different, for character, for influence on the game, for drama, for the comeback, for the demons, for sheer brilliance, I’d propose Capablanca as “the Stu Ungar of chess.”

[Tal]

A young Mr Capablanca .



Here playing a simultaneous exhibition.

And here playing a friendly game with the Einstein lookalike Emanuel Lasker:

[tikay]

The obvious one is Bobby Fischer. He was an American for starters. He was a child prodigy, blessed with a brilliant gift, who took on the (USSR) establishment and won. He had his demons throughout his life and this led to his demise: an unpleasant and tortured fall from Grace. He died in exile, a shell of the man he once was. He was terrifically outspoken and, curiously, completely unable to understand sarcasm.

I never knew that, but it suddenly prompts the notion that perhaps he was autistic, or maybe had Aspergers?

He always seemed a little "unusual", a flawed genius.

Pretty sad that he fell from gace, & our respect & affection, so totally. Not the first genius to do that, & sure won't be the last.

[Tal]

The obvious one is Bobby Fischer. He was an American for starters. He was a child prodigy, blessed with a brilliant gift, who took on the (USSR) establishment and won. He had his demons throughout his life and this led to his demise: an unpleasant and tortured fall from Grace. He died in exile, a shell of the man he once was. He was terrifically outspoken and, curiously, completely unable to understand sarcasm.

I never knew that, but it suddenly prompts the notion that perhaps he was autistic, or maybe had Aspergers?

He always seemed a little "unusual", a flawed genius.

Pretty sad that he fell from gace, & our respect & affection, so totally. Not the first genius to do that, & sure won't be the last.

Very true. It is likely Fischer suffered from something along those lines. It later became a delusional paranoia, which drove him completely over the edge.

There are many stories of chess leading to madness (there is of course debate as to whether they start out not wired correctly and the chess was just an attractive distraction/outlet - chicken and egg). Another time, perhaps.

I'm nowhere near good enough at chess to be mad. Grateful for small mercies, eh?

[kinboshi]

Tal (and anyone else), it's interesting what was mentioned earlier in the thread about mastering the 'standard' openings for beginners and intermediate players and then progressing to other openings and styles of play.

I took a slightly different route to many when I used to play seriously.  I have always been inherently lazy, whilst also being very dedicated and committed to putting in 100% into something I enjoy. So basically, unless something is interesting to me or offers me exceptional benefits, I'll try to take the path of least resistance and cut corners where possible.  I had the same approach to chess.  When I was aged about 7, I had problems getting a good night's sleep.  I'd wake up in the middle of the night and read until I feel asleep. A lot of the time I'd read chess books and even get a board out and try things out, learn new opening variations, etc. My strengths in chess were my ability to read the game and could see what was happening or going to happen many moves ahead.  I'd be able to look at a position in the middle-game and see how a series of moves would give me a stronger pawn formation to take into the end-game and ultimately win the game. My end-game play was very solid, and if there wasn't an obvious 'quick-win' in the middle-game my tactics would be to see how I could get to the end-game with a positional or material advantage.

My chess coach and a lot of the books would discuss the variety of openings and the advantages and disadvantages of each of them. But I had a better idea (a limited one, but it worked well for me). As white, I'd always play d4 (I say always, I'd also mix it up a little of course, and did enjoy playing the English Opening as well from time to time). As black, I'd always play the Sicilian (dragon, accelerated dragon or Najdorf variations most of the time).  I'd NEVER play the Ruy Lopez, never.  My thinking was people studied the Ruy Lopez and its countless variations and so I wouldn't. Instead I read all about different Queen's pawn openings and variations, and the same for the Sicilian Defence.  I'd study variations and learn about the pros and cons, and I'd know that very few of my opponents would be as well versed in them, so even the variations that risked giving up a little positional equity if the opposition played correctly were 'profitable' to me as the opposition wouldn't have studied them in such depth and didn't know the correct lines to take advantage of the opportunity - meaning they missed it and I got the upper hand.

One of my main books for studying openings was Modern Chess Openings (edited by Walter Korn) - no idea which edition it was, but I'm guessing it's not very modern any more! 

My coach wanted me to expand my opening repertoire, and to start playing e4 as white, or e5 as black.  But to me this meant studying a whole raft of openings (Ruy Lopez, French Defence - yawn, and all sorts of other openings that excited me as much as a lecture by tikay on the iron-built bridges of 19c Derbyshire).  Of course, by sticking to my restricted opening lines it meant the good opposition players I used to come up against would know the openings I played and would look to catch me out.  The thing is, unless they studied hard, they'd have a job getting the upper-hand playing a variation that they weren't very familiar with - or they'd have to try something fancy, or something a bit daring that they wouldn't know that intimately themselves.

Can't remember what my point was other than there's so much to learn and study in chess, why not focus on your strengths and not try to be a jack of all trades and a master (pun intended) of none - and instead be a specialist.  Of course, it's not that simple especially against better opponents.  But I was lethal at blitz chess when I forced people down uncomfortable opening lines they couldn't just play through mechanically.  Those were the days...

[Tal]

How funny you should say that! Capablanca was known never to study opening theory, which is why he played such solid, reliable stuff early in the game.

1.d4 tends to offer quieter games than 1.e4, although it is interesting that you played the Dragon and the Najdorf, which are two of the most theorised and analysed openings in the book.

The reason I played 1.f4 as a junior is the same as yours though: no one else was doing it and it took them out of their established theory.

[kinboshi]

The reason I played Dragon and Najdorf (and studied them so much), is that I could play variations that others hadn't studied in such depth.  Often a bit of a gamble, because if they knew the correct lines (as those better than me put forward) then they'd have the upper hand.  But more often than not, they'd try to stick to the tried and tested lines despite me taking a bit of a detour and lining them up for a fall.

With d4, I love the battle down white's left flank (which would often develop).  With ..c5 I used to love the 'race' when white and black castled on opposite sides.

Capablanca was a genius.

[smashedagain]

Ty very much for the reply and like Tikay says its a great thread and long may it continue.

Possibly inspired by this thread or just coincidence, I have had a few games with my niece (6) and nephew (9) this week. I don't play the game at all, think I am clever showing them the four move check mate, but was very suprised how quickly they have picked the game up. The niece is particually good and can beat her brother and actually thinks 3 or 4 moves ahead which I found impressive after only learning the game a couple of weeks ago. You say to her what if this piece moves here, she will then say "yes but then this goes like this and them this can do this" etc. Just basic level 1 stuff I assume but it is great fun.

Wow long post from Kinboshi. He has an interesting diary that I read too but sadly I have even less to contribute to that one. The wife does say I need to go jogging with her tho

[Honeybadger]

WARNING: Long post that was never intended to be long!!

Cliffs:

1. I discuss my thoughts on chess development and the best way to learn chess, whilst making vague comparisons to poker development.
2. I move on to the theme of poker, by discussing the best way to learn poker.
3. I talk a little about my own poker story/development, and offer some thoughts on why certain poker players have become great.

Kinboshi's story is actually similar to my own. I never built up a rounded chess opening repertoire and instead relied on playing mainly obscure opening variants. For example I played the Scandinavian Defence (1... d5) in answer to 1 e4, and specialised in the various gambit lines that often resulted from that opening. I played the exchange variation of the Ruy Lopez as White and developed a very good understanding of the quiet endgame that usually resulted. I played a couple of esoteric Nimzowitsch variations of the Advance Variation against the French Defence (having read My System).

Adopting this policy allowed me to save time learning openings, and also allowed me to get into good positions in competitive games more often than perhaps my skill warranted. However, it was most probably detrimental to my overall chess development and held me back from becoming a stronger player. I would have been far better served playing all the openings in my first few years and only settling on a specialised opening repertoire when I had become a strong player. I would have been possibly sacrificing some short terms results for the long-term benefit of becoming a better, more rounded player with a deep understanding of the game. Instead - although this is an oversimplification - I became a player who won a lot of games simply through trapping his opponents into worse positions in the opening/early middle game stages.

If I had my time again I would learn chess the way I recommended in my earlier post. I would start out studying mainly the old classic games from hundreds of years ago, and would play mainly the classical openings, experimenting with a ton of different variations. So I would start off with playing many sacrificial/gambit lines as possible to develop my tactics (I'd start as a LAG). Then I would start to play more strategic stuff concentrating on direct central control (I'd become a TAG). Then I would move on to more hypermodern stuff (I'd go through a complex thought stage and my play might actually get worse for a while). Finally I'd move on to modern chess stuff in which all the previous ideas and dogmas of chess history have been assimilated, balanced and combined (I'd finally find my own style, and would become a strong player). Following the path of historical chess development is probably the best way to learn chess if you are just starting out.

You will notice I made some vague comparisons in brackets to poker styles. I think this is actually extremely apposite. The 'best way' to learn poker probably is to play a super LAG style, even though you are very likely to lose money doing so. Make all those insane bluffs and ridiculous hero calls and crazy floats. Play 65% of your hands and 3bet half of them. Try to win every pot you can. You will do your bollocks unless you run very well right at the start. But you will become a good player far more quickly because you will be constantly trying things out, getting into tough spots, and putting pressure on yourself to make difficult decisions. Eventually, you will learn that the vast majority of the plays you have been making are total spew and you will tighten up a lot, whilst still maintaining the ability to make a lot of aggressive moves in the right spots. You have become a TAG. But you will be a really good TAG because of all the practice and experience you got whilst spewing around in the early days.

Then what likely happens is that you start developing backdoor aggression into your game, and learn about the right spots to play a loose passive style in the early streets of a hand. You start becoming more comfortable flatting raises preflop rather than 3betting, including from the blinds, and don't feel you need the preflop initiative all the time in order to make a hand profitable. You learn to float more often, and to bluff catch effectively, even out of position. In many spots you are actually quite cally and passive in the early streets, although in theory this is always with a plan/reason... often one that involves later aggression. This is equivalent to the hypermodern period in chess development in which Black refused to directly compete for the center, and instead sought to control it indirectly - before launching a central attack later in the game. This is also the period in your poker development in which you may actually play worse for a little while. It is difficult to play without the initiative and at first you drift into being a combination of loose-passive and weak-tight (just as when you first start playing hypermodern openings you will likely just get run over by your opponent's central control until you learn to effectively fight back). But once you come out of this phase and learn these new difficult skills you become a much better player.

My own development in poker has a bit of a story in relation to this. When I first started out I was not a young kid, I already had a wife and kid and mortgage etc. And I had a very small bankroll. I was unable to risk going broke, so I had to play in the most low-variance style possible. I was the biggest nit ever... I had to be to survive; I didn't have the luxury of taking wild chances, making crazy plays, and trying for sick spin ups. So I was not able to start out the way I advise, playing like a LAG. I suspect my poker development has been massively held back due to this. Most of the great young players (Tricket etc) started out as LAGs, and usually very very spewy LAGs at that. Obviously variance caught up with most of them and 99% of them vanished whilst they were still poor players. But the ones that got lucky in the first few years have gone on to become truly great players, because they put themselves in all those situations early on. If I'd have done that then I'd be very unlikely to be still playing poker now because chances are I'd have gone broke repeatedly in the first few years and given up. But if I had have been one of the lucky ones who survived long enough to become a good player by having a few binks then I'd likely be a much, much stronger player now than I am.

Also, when I was grinding NLHE online my game deteriorated for a while when I watched a ton of A.E. Jones videos and listened to his audiobook. He advocated a lot of interesting plays, including in certain spots some passive stuff on early streets, playing without the initiative a lot etc. At first this made me play worse because I was misapplying it (it's a lot harder to play without the initiative) and ended up playing a combination of weak-tight and loose passive. Eventually I assimilated it into my game and I became a better player for it.

If poker wasn't played for money then everyone should start out playing as a LAG, playing most of their hands and running loads of crazy bluffs etc. They will learn and develop much faster. Unfortunately, poker IS played for money and so this is not really possible unless someone is playing merely for a hobby and can afford to lose consistently for their first few years whilst they learn. So the 'right' way of learning poker relies on the player just getting ridiculously lucky not to go broke before he has become any good. I have seen a TON of players play like this, and vanish within a year. I have seen a handful of players play like this, run well (often without realising it), and therefore survive long enough to become great players. Maybe the best way to start out is to grind out a profit in the cash games playing a super-tight TAG style (so you don't have to rely on getting lucky to stay in the game), and then enter a load of small buy in tournaments and play them like a maniac (to develop your skills).

Wow!! This post has become unbelieveably long. I started typing and didn't stop! Oh well, I'm not going to edit it. Well done if you have managed to read to the end. Not sure if it was worth it though lol!

[Tal]

A very interesting post, honeybadger. Plenty to discuss there!

[kinboshi]

Good post Mr Badger.  Always an interesting read.

[Tal]

How about a story about me? Today’s word of the day is “COACHING”.

I have been fortunate to do some coaching in my time. The majority of it has been with 11-18 year olds but age really doesn’t matter. I have only worked with people who have at least a basic understanding of the game. By this, I mean they know the horse moves in an L-shape, they know you can castle both ways and don’t shout “Witchcraft!” when you take a pawn en passant. After that, it’s been a complete mixture of ability levels.

On the other side, I have been fortunate enough to have worked with two coaches. Once I had a decent grasp of the basics and had won a small junior comp, my dad approached an International Master who was there on the day of the tournament and asked whether he would be prepared to coach me. This would have been in around 1994. He was happy to do so and I went every week, with us spending an hour together at his house with my dad sitting in the corner watching. We would usually go through a game if I had played one that week, or otherwise it would be positions he’d set up and we would talk about how to play from there. Sometimes, there would be tactical (often checkmating) combinations to spot; other times, it would be just general themes to be aware of. We’d play a game against the clock and he would hammer me. After the session, my dad would stump up a crisp twenty pound note and we would be on our way.

We heard a couple of years later that there was a local, retired player who was now an excellent coach. He had an 18 month waiting list for players to get on, but was well worth it. He had two of the other top local junior players for my age group, I then discovered, and they could not sing his praises highly enough. Dad politely encouraged them to put in a good word for me and I managed to sneak into a higher place on the queue. When a gap opened up, I went to work with this gentleman. He was not as strong as the previous coach, but had still been a strong player in his day. He was in his 50s and had been a very strong junior player, up to playing in the Glorney Cup (a Home Nations tournament, where each selects their top 4 players under 18). He had then gone on to win the Major Open section at the British Championships (the top amateur tournament would be the best way I could describe it).

This chap wasn’t a bit like the previous one. He was a coach. A real coach. He started by asking about me: what books do you have? What openings do you play? Do you work well against the clock? Do you find visualizing a position easy (this is another way of saying “how many moves can you think ahead?”, but it questions more how well you can spot what else is going on)? Once I had answered and he had finished writing, we went through the openings I knew, move by move. He watched as I talked. After all this, he had a couple of pages of notes on me in his book. He asked if I had brought a game of mine with me and, as it happened, I had. We played through it. He stopped me after the fourth move, commenting that there was an improvement to what I had played. He stood up, walked to his bookcase, produced a green book that looked like Methusela had written it in his 20s and showed me the variation I had played. The author specifically commented that it was outmoded and that a different move was recommended.

I had the cheek to ask why. This is what really makes a coach. He closed the book and said “you tell me”. So we sat and discussed it. He listened to me piece together an argument, steered me with some careful questions and walked me gently to the correct answer. We played through the rest of the game, him making a couple of suggestions as we went, keeping the form to me giving all the answers, with him nodding like Mr Miyagi.

At the end of the session (2.5 hours was how he liked to do it, with a break for tea and biscuits in the middle), he went over what we had covered. I agreed. Dad paid him seven English pounds. Yes. He did it out of love for the game (there’s a catchphrase in their somewhere, CambridgeAlex), and as he did 3 sessions a day, the money covered his shopping bill and he was happy.

I went back next week and he suggested we play through a game from an old master – Alekhine. He explained that he was the founder of the modern way of playing and we spent an hour and a half going through one of the games. He stopped after a few moves to let me work out the next move (making sure I understood why I was making it). His questions challenged my thinking process – “what other moves are available?” “what was the purpose of Black’s last move?” “have you completed your development?” “should you attack with just pieces or do you need the help of a few pawns, too?” – and slowly I began to get into Alekhine’s head.

After a few weeks of those games, we worked on the tactical side of my game, which I had a talent for, but it was very raw (“spewy” might be a suitably pokerish adjective). We played through positions and, again, he coached me into understanding when the time was right to get aggressive and when a more measured response was appropriate. He showed me, with the Alekhine games in particular, that attacking is sometimes a means to an end – you can force the other guy to make weaknesses in his position and then all you do is swap the pieces off and win with a better endgame.

When I was deemed ready, we started on Tal games. Kid and Sweetshop would probably be fair. I used to come out of the sessions with a head that made me thing I’d eaten a tub of ice cream really quickly, but I couldn’t wait til the next session, two weeks later.

As the months went by, we started on Rubenstein, Petrosian and Fischer: the masters of the quieter, positional games. This opened my eyes to a different way of playing.

In the other hour or so each session, he gave me an opening repertoire. I took a purple A5 notebook in and he gave me a list of openings. We played through them and, when I was happy, I wrote them down. Usually 15ish moves of Black and White and a couple of variations.

It wasn’t long before I had a sizeable ‘database’. When I went back with a game, if I had deviated from the book line (let’s be honest: if I had forgotten the right move), he would say “what do your notes say?” and we’d have a look. There was never any shame in it; he knew I was keen to learn. When I came to a lesson bored with an opening, we’d learn something else and that would be added to the notes.

He retired a couple of years ago, now in his sixties. We are still in touch. He completely shaped the way I think about chess and the way I coach others. There is an enormous difference between a great player and a great coach.

[Tal]

Akiba Rubenstein



He brought us a puzzle once. White to play and mate in 4.

[millidonk]

I set my search rating to try and only play people who are better than me but I was getting thrashed quite often tbh. Put it back down to play people the same level as me and my record now stands at victory within 7 moves. wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Also downloaded Chessmaster 10 so will be giving that a go whenever I get a chance.

http://www.chess.com/livechess/game?id=354900787