Not surprisingly, all that dough enticed some players we seldom see. Walter Browne, who mostly plays poker rather than chess these days, made an appearance. Lenderman himself was a surprise, coming all the way from New York.

However, I managed to find excuses not to go to either of these events. They were too soon after my most recent events (or so I said), and I hadn’t caught up yet on going over my games from last year (so I said). But with one more big tournament still coming up, I decided that there were to be no more excuses. So in two weeks’ time, I’m going to play in the Peoples’ Tournament in Concord.

The Peoples’ Tournament has a venerable history. This will be its 36th running, but this year it will be in a totally new venue. It was started in Berkeley in 1971 by Alan Benson, who, according to the California Chess Hall of Fame web page, “personified Berkeley tournament chess during the post-Fischer era.” Traditionally it was held on the UC Berkeley campus.

I played in it maybe three or four times, but I never had good results and I didn’t enjoy it very much. It’s always hard to find parking in Berkeley, and also the tournament was held in a student center that was right on the main plaza, so there was often quite a bit of noise in the vicinity (including drumming one year).

Now that Salman Azhar has turned Bay Area Chess into one of the busiest affiliates in the country, it was natural for him to take over this traditional but struggling tournament. Last year he organized a “Peoples Replacement Tournament,” because the regular Peoples Tournament was not held, and this year he has apparently gotten permission to take the word “Replacement” out of the title. It will be strange, though, to have the Peoples Tournament uprooted and moved to a posh hotel in Concord. It’s a little bit like, I don’t know, running into Fidel Castro at the Republican National Convention. The revolution has been gentrified.

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I am not a bowling fan at all — I had watched it maybe a couple of times before this, usually for just a few minutes. I understand how the scoring system works, but I know nothing about oil patterns or strategies or anything. One time earlier this fall I had watched two women bowling during the advertisement breaks of a football game on another channel, and I commented to my wife that the women bowlers (well, some of them anyway) had shapely butts. She reminded me of this un-politically correct comment on Sunday, and I replied, “I’d rather watch a woman who kicks butt than a woman with a nice butt!”

Anyway, I was fascinated by this event for several reasons. First, bowling is kind of a niche sport, just like chess. But this turned out to be the second most watched broadcast of a bowling match in the last ten years. Kulick’s triumph put bowling on the radar screen of ESPN and other sports channels. One moral I drew from this was that if a woman won a major U.S. chess tournament, it would be a fantastic thing not just for women, but for chess.

Second, if a woman can win a men’s bowling tournament, then certainly a woman  should be able to win a chess tournament. Women have a physical disadvantage in bowling — they don’t roll the ball as hard. However, it seems to be the nature of the sport that they can compensate by rolling more accurately. In chess, there is no physical disadvantage to overcome at all… only a cultural prejudice.

Third, Kelly Kulick’s triumph would not have become a big media story if the event had not been televised on ESPN, the biggest cable sports network. Admittedly it was just a half-hour program, and probably sort of a throw-away for them because football games were going on at the same time, so most sports fans would have been watching other channels. Nevertheless, it was on television.

Who is going to take up the battle to get chess on ESPN? I am convinced that it could be done. Poker is a big hit on ESPN. You just need someone to explain to the audience what is going on. During the poker tournaments they have computer graphics on the TV screen showing the cards each player has and their likelihood of winning. The players themselves don’t know this information, so as a viewer you actually have a sort of god’s eye view of the action. You could do the same thing with a chess game — show the computer evaluation of the position as the game is going on. Computers are kind of like gods, too, these days.

Once we get chess on TV, who is going to complete this picture by becoming the first woman to win a major tournament? Anna Zatonskih? Irina Krush? Abby Marshall? (Maybe you could argue that she already did it, by winning the Denker Tournament of High School Champions.) Someone else we don’t know about yet?

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The game in question was a memorable one for both of us. We both had 3-1 scores, and the winner of the game would have an excellent shot at winning the title of North Carolina champion. As you can see from the post above, we got to an endgame that was just about as drawn as could possibly be, but he messed it up due to intense time pressure and lost. He was understandably dismayed to find one of the most traumatic losses of his career immortalized on the Web. Of course, the outcome was as sweet to me as it was bitter to Rich. In the final round I drew with NM Randy Kolvick and emerged with the state title (my second).

So what has Rich been doing since our dramatic encounter? As he told me in a subsequent e-mail, he has enjoyed a very successful career as a chess teacher, first in Roanoke, Virginia and then in Connecticut. He has coached 15 national champions! This puts him in the same league with great teachers like Elizabeth Vicary and Robby Adamson, but perhaps he is not quite as well known because he isn’t associated with a particular school. There are very few people who can make a living as a private chess teacher, but Rich has done it.

Rich wanted to know if I could make up for posting one of his most bitter defeats by posting one of his favorite victories. I’m happy to oblige, because the game also happens to be relevant to our second encounter, which took place only two months after the first one.

The game Rich Jackson–David Olsen was played in the 1998 North Bay Open, and I will put it in boldface type. The related game Rich Jackson–Dana Mackenzie was played in the 1987 North Carolina Invitational, which I qualified for by winning the state championship and Rich qualified for by being one of the top five rated players in the state. I will give the moves of that game in red type, after the two games diverge.

Both games began with the anti-Max Lange, 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. d4 ed (actually the move order was slightly different, but it doesn’t matter) 5. O-O Nxe4 6. Re1 d5 and now Rich played his home preparation, 7. Nc3!?

Diagram 1. Black to play.

I knew this move existed, but I had never faced it before, and so I played 7. … dxc4, reasoning that it was better to take the bishop than the knight. This is definitely the more popular option, but actually 7. … dxc3 is also playable and maybe better. (It has a higher success rate on ChessBase. Black has scored about 60 percent in 70 games, versus 50 percent in 100 games with the move Olsen and I played.)

Both games continued 8. Rxe4+ Be6 9. Nxd4 Nxd4 10. Rxd4 and now they diverged.

Diagram 2. Black to play.

In our game from the North Carolina Invitational, I played 10. … Bd6 here, while Olsen in 1998 played 10. … Qf6 instead. Rich says in his e-mail, “Without question 10. … Bd6 is to be recommended.” But after a little computer analysis, I’m not entirely sure of that! Our game continued 11. Bf4 Qe7!?, which at the time we both thought was an improvement over the Encyclopedia of Chess Openings recommendation, 11. … O-O. (I didn’t know the ECO line; I was just flying blind here.) The point is to break the pin as quickly as possible and force a decision on d6. Our game continued 12. Nxd6 cd and now comes the point where Rich may have missed his chance to get an advantage.

Diagram 3. White to play.

Here Rich played the obvious recapture, 13. Rxd6. After 13. … O-O 14. Qd4 Rfd8 mass simplification ensued and we reached another extremely drawish endgame. This time, unlike in our earlier game, he didn’t mess it up and a draw was the final result.

Instead, the computer spots the move 13. Qe2! The point is that White would like to win the c-pawn, not the d-pawn, and this will leave Black with a rather weak isolani on the d-file. If 13. … O-O White plays 14. Rxe4 immediately. If Black tries to avoid the inevitable with 13. … Rd8 14. Re1 Rd7, White can force the issue with 15. f4. In view of the threat of f5, Black will have to play something like 15. … Qf6, and then 16. Qxc4 becomes possible.

So actually, 11. … Qe7 was perhaps not such a good move after all! Perhaps ECO is right about 11. … O-O. Rich thinks that 12. Ne4 then leads to advantage for White, but I’m not convinced. I think that the calm 12. … Qc8 keeps Black in the game. The strategy, again, is to give up a pawn on d6 but in the process achieve some simplification. White may have a token advantage but I think it is very small.

Now let’s look at the game that Rich really wanted me to post. In the position of Diagram 2, Olsen played 10. … Qf6. Rich knew this move and knew that GM Paul Keres had recommended the reply 11. Nb5, which was supposed to give White a small advantage. But unfortunately Keres, as per his habit, had not given any analysis to support this evaluation. So Rich thought for about 40 minutes until he figured it out! The main thing he was worried about was the reply 11. … Qe5, but finally, he says, “only in the 38th minute did it dawn on me that 11. … Qe5 12. a4! is very annoying for Black.” The point is that now White is threatening 13. Bf4, and a move like 12. … Bd6 does nothing to stop it. So, with restored confidence Rich played 11. Nb5! and Olsen responded with the inferior 11. … Bc5? Rich played 12. Nxc7+ Ke7, and now ensues a nice finale:

Diagram 4. White to play and win.

Perhaps Black was happy here, seeing that the rook on d4 and the pawn behind it on f2 are both hanging. If so, he got a rude jolt when Rich played his next move.

13. Rd7+!! …

A simple deflection sacrifice. If Black takes the rook, then 14. Nd5+ forks the king and queen. Instead Black flailed around with 13. … Kf8 14. Nxe6+ fe 15. Be3! Bxe3 16. fe. And here, on move 16, with even material on the board, Black thought for 45 minutes and then resigned! He could see no defense against White’s onslaught with threats like Qd6+ and Rf1+.

Probably the line 7. Nc3 ought to be a little bit more popular than it is. I think that the main objection to it is probably that it trades off a little bit too much material too quickly, so even though White has a lead in development he can’t always make it count. However, in none of these lines (at least after 7. … cxd4) does White have any chance of losing, which is a point in favor of this variation, especially if you are facing a higher-rated player or if you are in a situation where a draw is an acceptable result.

Rich, thanks for the e-mail and comment, and good luck with your future teaching endeavors!

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My main news is that I am going to start a new chess class at a local elementary school, the Santa Cruz Gardens School. It will be a six-week class, starting January 22. This will be a new experiment for me. Although I have run the Aptos Library chess club for 13 years, with a similar age range of kids (from about 6 to 12), I have never done it in a school setting and also never been paid for it before. I’m going to assume that the kids might not even know the rules, so I will have to start very basic indeed. Does anyone out there have ideas for good instructional materials? Free stuff from the Internet would be best, of course. 

I am thinking that I will try a similar approach to what I do at the library, 15 minutes of instruction and 45 minutes of just letting the kids play.

Second item: What are you doing reading this blog when you could be reading Jennifer Shahade’s amazing interview of Jeff Sarwer over at the U.S. Chess website? I’ll help you — here’s a link that will open in another window.

For people who don’t know who Jeff Sarwer is, he was Josh Waitzkin’s big rival in the book Searching for Bobby Fischer. In the movie by the same name, he was changed to a fictional character named Jonathan Poe, but the character was of course based on Sarwer. The two of them tied for the 1986 U.S. National Elementary Championship, but of course the Hollywood version needed the hero (Waitzkin) to beat the villain (Sarwer), so that’s how the movie went.

Sarwer absolutely disappeared from the chess scene after that, and in Shahade’s interview we find out why. First he and his sister were separated from their father and placed in foster care. Then they ran away and, in some order, hooked up with their father again, ended up in Europe, changed their names, and traveled around for years with a group of hippies. In the last few years Sarwer moved to Gdansk, Poland, started using his birth name again and started playing competitive poker. In a recent tournament he finished third and won a six-figure prize! (Try doing that in chess!) He has only played in one chess tournament as an adult, but he showed his talent was still there. With no preparation at all, he tied for second in a tournament in Poland, drawing with two grandmasters and losing only one game (against a GM).

This only scratches the surface, but it gives you an idea of what an amazing and unorthodox life Sarwer has led.

Shahade also provides a link to Sarwer’s website, where the first thing you see is a TV documentary about him as a 9-year-old prodigy. It’s equally fascinating, and very poignant to watch it with 20 years of hindsight. He talks about wanting to be a world champion, and Bruce Pandolfini, who briefly was his teacher, says that he has the greatest talent of any kid he has ever met. But at the end, with spooky prescience, Pandolfini says that he is afraid Sarwer’s potential will never be realized, because he has no one to coach him and point out what he is doing wrong. (Sarwer’s father had stopped the lessons with Pandolfini after six months because he did not believe in letting other people teach his kids.) Also very fascinating is an interview with the late Sammy Reshevsky, where Reshevsky says that he sees himself in the young prodigy — an amazing compliment! Reshevsky says the only difference is that Sarwer has maybe even a little more enthusiasm for the game than he did as a youth.

In fact, it is that enthusiasm that really stands out in the clip, and is totally at odds with the way that Sarwer was portrayed in Searching for Bobby Fischer, both the book and the movie. There he was portrayed as a strange, antisocial kid under the thrall of his domineering father, almost like a chess-playing machine. That is not at all the kid you see in the TV clip.

In spite of the strange things life has thrown at him — being a villain in a Hollywood movie when he was still a teenager, living under an assumed name — and in spite of Pandolfini’s concern that his life would be a “tragedy,” Sarwer’s life has been anything but a tragedy. From Shahade’s interview and from Sarwer’s website, he sounds like a guy who has gotten his act together and is happy with where he is in his life.

Wow.

One other interesting thing I noticed on the U.S. Chess website was a report on the Bay Area Chess tournament in Santa Clara on the weekend of January 1-3. I decided not to play in it, because as noted before I have been playing too much and studying too little in recent months. However, it sounds as if it was a big success, especially for the winner Sam Shankland, who destroyed the field with a score of 5.5 out 6. Far back in second place was Steven Zierk with 4.5, who scored the only draw against Shankland.

Also, I was delighted to see that Jim Parker, a Santa Cruz local, won the C section, also with a 5.5 score. His rating had dropped to 1599, which is how he qualified to play in the C section, but after this tournament it will be back up to 1685 or so, which is really where it should be. (Actually, I think that with a little more self-confidence he could easily be in the 1700s.)

Finally, since it’s a new year, I should have some new year’s resolutions, right? Well, I completely struck out on my resolutions last year — to get started on writing a chess book, and to help the Berkeley Invitational find a sponsor. On the other hand, some great things happened that I could not have anticipated — helping out with Daniel Naroditsky’s book, winning my biggest cash prize ever at the Western States Open. So I’m not quite sure what the point of making resolutions is.

Nevertheless, here are four resolutions for 2010, in increasing order of difficulty.

1. Reboot my opening repertoire, playing open Sicilians and also some d-pawn openings as White.
2. Continue to focus on process rather than results during my games — Zen chess.
3. Win a tournament. That’s right, a whole tournament, not just a class prize. I haven’t done that (at least for an open, Swiss-system tournament with more than three rounds) since 1993.
4. Beat a grandmaster. I’ve never done that; it’s perhaps the biggest hole in my chess resume. (I beat now-GM Vinay Bhat twice when he was a teenager, but that doesn’t count.)

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I was aware during the year that I was doing badly with White and very well with Black. But I did not know the disparity was so extreme! I thought it was just because in most of my tournaments I happened to play White against the good players and Black against the weaker players. However, what the table shows is that the rating didn’t matter: no matter whether I was playing against a master or against a non-master, I still did way better with Black!

I’m not really sure how to explain it. Either my White openings are bad, or my psychology with White is bad. Or, just possibly, I was really unlucky with White this year.

What should I do about it? One extreme possibility might be to play 1. e3 on the opening move, with the idea of responding to 1. … e5 with 2. e4, thereby transposing to Black! I’m not sure I am willing to take it to that extreme, however …

A better idea would probably be to have more balance between 1. e4 and 1. d4. I have played 1. e4 exclusively since 2000. Jesse Kraai often talks admiringly about young players like Magnus Carlsen who are equally at home playing both of those opening moves. It would not be too much trouble to emulate them. The problem is just that I like most e4 openings better than most d4 openings. But liking does not necessarily translate to good results. If I can win more often with 1. d4, I ought to play it, whether I like it or not. It will also be good for my general chess understanding to see different kinds of positions.

It’s great that I got to play 38 rated games this year. I think that is close to the busiest year I’ve ever had. However, I now have a huge backlog of tournament games that I have not studied carefully. One of my principles for years has been to study EVERY tournament game I play, win or lose. But I am now 32 games in arrears! To catch up, I will have to analyze them more selectively. Probably I should study all the games with masters, plus the most important or interesting or puzzling non-master games.

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Mostly I was getting my thoughts together for my next ChessLecture. There was one position in my most recent lecture that I really didn’t do a good job of analyzing. The lecture was called “Learn From Your Fellow Amateurs, Episode XX: Consolidation,” and I went over Thadeus Frei’s game against Nelson Sowell from the Northern California state championship, where Thadeus went 6-0 in the class B section. (See this post.)

The game began like this:

Thadeus Frei — Nelson Sowell

Queen’s Indian Defense (by transposition)

1. c4 Nf6 2. Nc3 b6 3. Nf3 Bb7 4. g3 e6 5. Bg2 Be7 6. O-O O-O 7. d4 d5 8. Ne5 c5?!

In my lecture I incorrectly stated that this was a pretty good move for Black, but actually it should have gotten him into hot water.

My comments here were a real cop-out. I said that I had never had very much luck playing against this kind of formation as White, and it’s one reason I don’t play queen-pawn openings.

Be that as it may, many of my listeners do play queen-pawn openings, and I owed them a better effort to figure out what was going on.

By “this kind of formation,” I mean a pawn formation where White’s pawns on c4 and d4 butt head to head against Black’s pawns on c5 and d5. As far as I know, this type of pawn formation doesn’t have a name (does anyone know of one?) so I will just call it a “box formation” or “four pawns in a box.” (You can also have box formations elsewhere on the board, but the c- and d-files are the most common locations.)

I have never seen box formations discussed in a textbook. How do you tell whether a box formation is good or bad for you? What should you do when faced with it? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had some definite ideas on the subject and that this was worth a ChessLecture. Moreover, I think that this particular position illustrates the themes very well.

I know you’re dying to hear what the answers are, but you’ll have to wait for my lecture!

While I was looking for examples, I came across a couple of games with pretty finishes. For a nice, easy, end-of-year quiz, see if you can figure out White’s winning moves:

White to move.

This is from the game William Kelleher — Larry Kaufman, U.S. Chess League 2006. Black has just played … Be4, attacking the rook on f3. Does White have to move it?

This position is from a game between Fernando Peralta and Alberto Andres Gonzalez, two people whom I know nothing about, from San Sebastian 2005. (Of course, with the Internet there is no excuse for such ignorance. Fernando Peralta is a grandmaster and former champion of Argentina. Andres Gonzalez is a Spanish IM.) White has a lot of pressure on the a1-h8 diagonal, but Black’s knight on f6 is in the way. How can White break through? (Hint: Not with the obvious 1. Qxf6.)

Answers

1. After 1. Rxg7+! Kxg7 2. Rg3+ it’s mate in a couple more moves.

2. Peralta came up with the nice move 1. Ne8! I always think it’s cool when a knight goes all the way to the back rank and strikes the opponent from behind. The first point is that 1. … Nxe8? runs into an immediate mate by 2. Qh8++. The more subtle point is that there is a companion mate after 1. … Rxe8 2. Qxe8+ Nxe8 3. Rxe8+ Kh7 4. Rh8++. Andres Gonzales played 2. … Kg7 instead, but after 3. Bxf6+ he threw in the towel because he is going to have a completely hopeless exchange-down endgame.

By the way, the trouble with 1. Qxf6, a move many chess players might have chosen, is that after 1. … Qxf6 2. Bxf6 Rxd6 3. Re8+ Kh7 4. Rh8+ Kg6 (note how this flight square is now available to Black because the queen is gone), Black is still alive and kicking

Moral: In a position where your opponent’s defenses are stretched to the limit, look for that little extra twist that will push them beyond the limit — often a sacrifice.

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So, here is a picture of me and the new baby, which is of course open to my favorite website.

One thing that I do like about the iMac is the size of the monitor. My desk has a little shelf in the center that is intended for a computer monitor, but I was worried that the iMac’s 21.5-inch screen was not going to fit. The desk was made in an era when such large screens didn’t even exist, except maybe as an ultra-expensive luxury for graphics junkies. Now, however, 21.5 inches is the smallest iMac you can get! I was getting ready to cuss out Steven Jobs — but as you can see, the 21.5-inch screen turned out to be a perfect fit. It stretches exactly from the shelf on the left to the shelf on the right without blocking anything.

Just for your amusement, here is a picture of me using my old Windows computer for the last time. I had already set up the iMac on my desk and then discovered that there were still some files on the old computer that I hadn’t transferred over. So I set up the PC in the only available place in the house …

No editorial comment was intended here, I swear.

As for the chess-on-a-Mac question, I decided to pony up the $60 for a copy of Shredder 12 for Mac. Fritz and Rybka seem not to be available for Macs, and I know that Shredder is at least in the same league with them strength-wise. Does anyone have any knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of Shredder as an analysis engine? With Fritz, I always felt that I understood exactly what I was getting, when to pay attention to the computer and when to question it. Shredder will have to earn my trust.

I hope all of you have had a great Christmas, or whichever holiday you celebrate! I’ll get back to some more traditional chess-related topics next time.

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So I admit it, real life has gotten in the way of my chess (and my blogging about chess).

In such circumstances a blogger must resort to linking to other things that are going on in the world. Here’s a link to the World Cup, which finally finished today, with the victory going to Boris Gelfand of Israel. He was the top-rated player in the tournament, but is not someone who ordinarily leaps to mind as one of the leading players in the world. Maybe people will now pay a little more attention to him.

However, the tournament itself went on way too long. After all the U.S. players got eliminated, and the only people left were not really the most famous GMs, I kind of lost interest. Judging from the photos of the final match at Chessbase.com, I was not the only person to lose interest. Observe the auditorium with lots and lots of vacant seats, and the press conference with only a half dozen reporters. They could have held this press conference in a closet, instead of a cavernous lobby! Somehow FIDE’s strategy of holding the World Cup championship in a city in Siberia that is almost impossible to get to (see Josh Friedel’s account) failed to attract wide public interest. I can’t imagine why not.

Other news in the chess world: Magnus Carlsen is dominating yet another tournament, the London Chess Classic. This looks like a much more entertaining tournament than the World Cup. First, it has Carlsen, Kramnik, Nakamura, and former world championship candidate Nigel Short (who is actually in last place!). Second, it’s in London. 

At the moment, there is one more round left in the tournament, and Kramnik could still beat Carlsen (in spite of losing their head-to-head matchup in round one) because of the 3-1-0 scoring system. Wins are worth three points and draws are only worth one. If Kramnik can beat Nakamura in the last round, while Carlsen draws against Short, Kramnik would win the tournament with +4 -1 =2 (14 points), while Carlsen would be second with +3 -0 = 4 (13 points).

Another thing a blogger can do for inspiration is to take a tour around the blogs. Michael Aigner writes about the National K-12 Championships (a tournament in which each grade plays in a separate section). There are two very curious things to notice. First, northern California kids had a smashing performance in grades K through 6. In fact, they took home a 1st place trophy, a 2nd place, a 3rd place, a 4th place, a 5th place, a 6th place, and a 7th place! (Keep in mind that those were not all in the same section.) The second curious thing is that there were no northern California kids in grades 7 through 12 playing in Dallas. Why?

Maybe they are playing abroad — like Danya Naroditsky, who played in a tournament in Wijk aan Zee, the Netherlands, over the Thanksgiving holiday. No, it was not the Wijk aan Zee tournament (that’s in January 2010), but I’ll bet you’ll see him there in the future. His father reported in an e-mail that Danya is “much more popular in Holland than here.” He jokes that his wife wanted to stay in Holland. At least let’s hope it was a joke! After losing Fabiano Caruana to Italy, we don’t want to lose any more of America’s young stars to other countries.

The last thing that a truly desperate chess blogger can do is go off topic. For example, Mark Ginsburg writes about how much he enjoys the Tiger Woods saga. Elizabeth Vicary has some strange video of a bunch of people singing in a supermarket. (I’m sure that she will have a report up on the K-12 Nationals soon.) Let’s see … For an off-topic entry, I could write about my wife’s mammogram, which took place this afternoon. She took great glee in demonstrating for me what it feels like. Guys, you do not want to subject yourselves to this.

But no, I’m not that desperate. See you next time.

P.S. I have just gotten a new iMac, and I am going to transition from the PC world to the Mac world starting next week. Does anyone know whether Fritz or Rybka work on a Mac? If not, what chess program should I get?

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After an opening where neither side got an advantage, Tortoise and Hare reached this position. Tortoise, who was playing White, had to decide on his 15th move.

Tortoise wrestled with his decision and agonized over it for a long time. What he wanted most of all was to complete his development. He remembered how Jesse Kraai says that good players solve the problem of their worst pieces before they go on any adventures. The bishop on c1 is suffering, and is clearly White’s worst piece. But Tortoise could not convince himself that 15. Bd2 or 15. Be3, sacrificing the pawn on b2, would be good. 15. b3 also did not look good because of the response 15. … Nb4, winning the white-squared bishop and exposing the sensitivity of the c-file. Tortoise toyed with the idea of 15. g4, but Jesse’s warning brought him back to earth. The only move he could find that seemed appealing was 15. Na4, with the idea of relocating to c5 and blocking the c-file. Also, chasing the queen away from b6 would help with the development of the c1 bishop. The trouble with 15. Na4, however, was that Black could play 15. … Qc7, and after 16. Nc5 Nxd4 Black would win a pawn. However, this pawn sac looked at least somewhat promising, because White gains several tempi with 17. Nxd4 Qxc5 18. Be3 Qc7 19. Rac1 Qd8 (for example). Finally, after 22 minutes of thought and indecision, Tortoise thought to himself, “Heck with it. Nothing else is any good, so I’ll try it.” He moved the knight to a4.

We don’t know what Hare was thinking, unfortunately. However, he immediately played not 15. … Qc7, but 15. … Qd8. In this critical position he took only 10 or 15 seconds to make up his mind. Tortoise was dumbfounded. All that time he had spent analyzing the pawn sac and the other variations had been almost completely wasted, because his opponent had instantly played a move that Tortoise had considered inferior. But Computer, the arbiter of all things, says that 15. … Qd8 is not inferior at all!

In the fables they talk about Dumb Hare and Smart Tortoise. But here I think we may have a case of Smart Hare and Dumb Tortoise. Tortoise had chosen a good move, it’s true, but he had used a ridiculous amount of time doing it. Smart Hare had probably figured out what Tortoise was thinking about and said, “I’ll just play it safe and gain 22 minutes on the clock, which is better than accepting an unclear pawn sacrifice.” The result was that after 15 moves, Tortoise had used a whole hour while Hare had only used 10 minutes.

But later in the game, Hare’s quick decision-making got him into trouble. He schemed to move his own knight to c4, but went there too hastily and the knight just got chased away again with b3. Black’s pieces, once nicely organized, started to drift into passive positions because Hare did not have a plan any more.

Meanwhile, a funny thing was happening to Tortoise. He had been a little bit rattled by Hare’s quick moves earlier in the game, but now he was rather enjoying the fact that every time he moved, he would only have to wait 30 seconds or a minute, at most, to see Hare’s answer. The predictability of Hare’s moves — both the choice of move and the amount of time it would take Hare to choose it — allowed Tortoise to establish a very comfortable rhythm, and actually make some quick moves himself.

Just before the time control, at move 40, another crucial position was reached.

Tortoise had just played 39. Ne5, and now had 4 minutes on his clock to make his last move of the time control. As for Hare, he had used only 24 minutes of his time, and so he had 1 hour and 36 minutes left. But he was Hare, and Hares never take more than a minute. Besides, it’s obvious what Black wants to do here. He wants to trade queens, and so Hare quickly played 39. … Qc8??

According to Computer, the arbiter of all things, this was a catastrophic blunder, which makes Black’s disadvantage go from 0.8 pawns to oh, about 11.0 pawns.

But Tortoise, being a mere mortal, did not have access to Computer’s wisdom. He had 4 minutes to decide on his next move, and had no way of knowing this was a “White to play and win” situation. At first he intended to play 40. Qxc8 Nxc8, but then he realized that after 41. Nd7+ Ke7! Black can stop his e-pawn, and not only that the e-pawn will be indefensible. Better would be 41. Nc6, which cuts off the king and also has ideas of harassing Black’s queenside pawns with Nb8. This looked promising, but still it looked as if it would be a lot of trouble to win.

Tortoise’s clock was now down to 3 minutes. He was just about ready to play 40. Qc8, when suddenly he did a good thing. He thought, “Wait a minute.” Tortoises, of course, are fond of waiting a minute.

Tortoise thought, “Wait a minute. If Black’s key defensive move is … Ke7, why not play Nd7+ while the e7 square is still occupied, so that the king can’t go there?” Tortoise also remembered the ChessLecture he had given once on reversing the move order: if Move A (Qxc8) followed by move B (Nd7+) doesn’t work so well, try doing them in the opposite order.

As he did so, Tortoise started to get that tingly feeling that even Tortoises get when they see a game-changing move. After 40. Nd7+!, if Black moves his king to e1 or g8, he loses the f6 knight with check. If Black plays 40. … Kg7, then instead the e7 knight falls. And finally, if 40. … Nxd7, now White plays 41. Qxc8 Nxc8 42. ed, and White’s pawn (a “berserker pawn,” to recall another ChessLecture) cannot be stopped. It will promote on either c8 or d8, depending on what Black does.

Poor Hare could have thought about his next move for an hour and 36 minutes if he had wanted to, but fortunately he remained true to his principles, studied the position for less than a minute, and tipped over his king.

What is the moral of this little fable? Well, I’m not really sure. The moral of Aesop’s fable was, “Slow and steady wins the race.” But I’m not sure that is always true in chess. Fast and steady has some advantages. I especially like the fact that Hare did not agonize over his decisions in this game. On Tortoise’s 15th move he had a hard choice to make, and he agonized for 22 minutes. A lot of this time was just wasted — not on analysis but on indecision. Hare also had a hard choice to make between 15. … Qc7 and 15. … Qd8, but he had already made up his mind. Perhaps he had realized that they were about equally good, so it would not be worth his time to spend a lot of time deciding.

However, one thing I am sure of is that sometimes there are subtleties in chess that lie beneath the surface and that you cannot see if you always move in a minute or less. Maybe Computer, the arbiter of all things, can see them, but we mortals cannot. And so there are some times when it is a very good thing to pause before you make your move, take a deep breath, and say, “Wait a minute.”

P.S. Now that you know why 39. … Qc8 was a bad move, can you figure out what Black should have done instead?

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One thing that I enjoyed about this weekend’s tournament was having a chance to catch up with my old friend from North Carolina, Robin Cunningham. As I wrote in my previous entry, he is a former 2400-level player whose rating is now under 2300, but the rating is deceptive. He just hasn’t played very much in recent years. I’m glad to see him showing signs of getting back into tournament chess.

Robin had a very strange tournament this weekend. He tied for the under-2300 prize in spite of the fact that he played only three games, and drew all three of them! Here’s what happened. He took half-point byes in rounds 3 and 4, probably because he signed up for the 2-day schedule but didn’t want to play four games in one day. But there were five people in the 2-day Master section, so each round someone had to sit out. Originally Robin was paired with someone for round 2, but then there was a complaint about the pairings and they were re-done, and Robin got the full-point bye! So after four rounds, his result was: draw in round 1, full-point bye in round 2, half-point byes in rounds three and four. He completed his tournament with draws in rounds 5 and 6, thus ending with a score of 3½-2½.

It might seem as if he hardly deserved a prize for that performance, but actually the three games he did play were quite impressive. All three draws were against players of 2400 strength or higher: De Guzman, Zierk, and Zilberstein. One of Robin’s strengths is his fighting spirit, and he is very good at Houdini-like escapes from difficult positions. He demonstrated that in both of his games against the Z’s.

Robin showed me the game with Steven Zierk, which I thought was very impressive. I don’t remember all the moves, but here is the crucial position.

Black to move.

Obviously, Black is desperate here. He is down the exchange, and White is about to round up his pawn on a4. On the other hand, White has left the kingside unguarded. Can Black exploit that fact? Make sure that you go past the first move in your analysis, because there is a trick a couple moves later.

While you’re thinking, let me tell you about a really good ChessLecture I watched last week. Dennis Monokroussos presented a lecture called “The Best Trap is the One You Fall Into.” He said that if you discover your opponent is setting a trap for you, sometimes the best thing to do is to “fall into it.” Either you can analyze a little bit farther than your opponent, and place a counter-trap at the end of the trap, or sometimes you can spot a side variation that he missed (perhaps an in-between move). Your opponent will be so overjoyed that you fell into his trap that he will usually be completely unsuspecting that you have laid a trap for him!

That is exactly what Robin did in this position. He could tell from White’s last move (1. Qa6) that Zierk was daring him to sacrifice the bishop on f4. Zierk didn’t have to allow this move; he could have played more cautiously and he would have still had a winning position. But Zierk was so sure that he could stop Robin’s checks that he went ahead and dangled the tasty morsel in front of Robin’s face.

And so Robin “took the bait.”

1. … Bxf4! 2. gf …

Incidentally, White still had time to reconsider. He could have played 2. Rc2 and still be ahead in material. But as I said, the person who sets the trap seldom realizes that he is actually being set up. (Actually, the computer says that Black equalizes even after 2. Rc2, because … h4 is coming with the complete destruction of White’s kingside.)

2. … Qxf4+ 3. Ke1 …

Black to move.

And here Zierk was thinking that Black would play either 3. … Qe3+ 4. Qe2 or 3. … Qh4+ 4. Kd1 Qg4+ 5. Qe2, and in either case White’s queen is able to come to the defense of the king.

What he didn’t see was Robin’s beautiful “quiet move” that seals the queen off from the kingside.

3. … Rc4!

And here Robin had the satisfaction of seeing Zierk jump with surprise. There is now no defense to 4. … Qe3+, with a perpetual check. Notice that if either of White’s rooks tries to defend, the other rook is lost. Thus, if 4. Rc2 Qe4+ either 5. Re2 Qxb1+ or 5. Kd1 Qh1+ followed by 6. … Qxb1. Or if  5. Kd2, then 5. … Qf4+ sets up an immediate draw by repetition. White’s queen, of course, cannot help with the defense. Zierk captured on a4 and played several more moves, but there was no escape from Robin’s queen checks.

One of the other players said to Robin after the game, “Lucky!”, but actually I think that Robin showed great skill in this game. He blundered a pawn in the opening and he felt that Zierk could have just rolled him up with a kingside attack. So his first clever idea was to distract Zierk with counterplay on the queenside. After a while they got to a point where Zierk was in complete control there, and Robin felt that going into a pawn-down endgame would be hopeless, so he sacrificed the exchange in order to keep the position murky. Then he pushed his pawn to h5 and his king to g7, preparing to play … h4, bring the rook the the h-file, and create complications on the kingside. Zierk stepped his king up to f2 — thinking to defend his kingside, but actually walking right into the attack. Then, when Zierk foolishly went pawn-hunting with his queen on the queenside, the stage was set for Robin’s drawing combination. So it wasn’t just an isolated stroke of luck, it was a whole scheme of defense and distraction that eventually paid off for Black. Lady Luck will come your way only if you prepare the bed for her.

I don’t think Zierk was down in the dumps for too long, because he went on to draw GM Jesse Kraai in the last round and tie for third place with a score of 4-2.

Stay tuned for more Thanksgiving leftovers in my next post!

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