Tuesday 10 April 2012

Style.


I pop on my most unassuming outfit-- A black baseball cap, a grey sweatshirt, khaki-casual dress pants, and well-worn white Reebok's to complete the ensemble. Am I dreaming? Wondering through a dark hall
confused, a large, grey Victorian-style door appears in front of me. "What's this?" I wonder aloud, a spotlight beams on me from above and Morgan Freeman's voice fills the chamber, "This is the door to insanity my son, you've been selected from a random sample of customers to participate in our survey." "What sur--" "Go ahead, it won't hurt". The door opens slowly to reveal a modest gathering of Ewoks, 8 short in stature, 2 with round heads, 2 with larger noses and hooves, another 2 clothed in Gothic robes, 1 with a crown, and the last a little more curvy than the rest. The crowned beast speaks in a strangely familiar Austrian accent -"Welcome to the party.. IT'S NOT A TUMA!"
           My eyes dart open suddenly to a reveal a chess board beneath me, I wipe off my lip-crud, come to, and realize I fell asleep waiting for the pairings. Looking around, I notice Mike Zeggelaar blathering once again about his "attacking style" to some club veterans, I grin and sit patiently for a moment until a familiar voice pipes up "The pairings are now posted on the door, please have a seat at your board, and we'll start the clocks in 1 minute".

And back to reality~~What does it mean to have a chess style? Most take it to mean that a person has a disposition towards certain types of play, whether it be positional, tactical, defensive-prophylactic, initiative based pirate-like gambiteering, computer-like "correct" and so on, with many symbioses. These dispositions usually reflect on that persons personality to some degree and their approaches to combat and life in general, although there are many contradictions and situations where a preference must be put aside for practical reasons.

In the chess world we have many examples of great champions who had more or less clear-cut styles. Mikhail Tal was known around the world for his great attacking games and daring sacrifices- a gambler. Mikhail Botvinnik on the other hand was much more scientific in approach and generally preferred to play in a way that would be considered "correct", as did Bobby Fischer who's style would later be characterized as universal. Anatoly Karpov and Tigran Petrosian tried to clamp their opponents and reduce potential counter-chances, gently squeezing their opposition until they fell over. So who are you?

People play chess for a variety of reasons, to win, to smash, to grief, to prove, to create. So why do you? Simple enough question perhaps, but probably incredibly difficult to answer, with reasons that stem from the practical, artistic, competitive to psychological. I think this is an incredibly important question that may lead you to reconsider your approach to the game and may even lead you to play a better, but even more important, a more enjoyable game of chess.

Story time-- One of my favourite books is written by IM Josh Waitzkin titled "The Art of Learning". In it he discusses his disenchantment from chess before moving on to martial arts. In his youth he was considered a prodigy and won almost everything in sight, grade championships, state junior events, national competitions and so on. His meteoric rise up the junior ranks was impressive and many took notice. He played chess first and foremost because he loved the game. He loved to analyse deep endgames of the champions of old, and play dazzling attacking chess, relishing the moment when the positions would turn crazy and almost incalculable; An adventurer at heart. His play on the chess board was in-tune with who he was as a person and he enjoyed the process immensely. Fast-forward many years into young adulthood. Things got tough. GM's were big and scary, he had moved on from his long-time friend and coach Bruce Pandolfini, and chess became less about enjoyment and more about results and pleasing fans. "I felt like I was watching myself play chess from from across the room." These concerns coupled with his new trainer telling him to play like Karpov, instead of Kasparov whom he admired, eventually led him astray and out of the chess world. He wasn't playing chess for himself anymore, but for other people and for reasons that he didn't care for, like a hockey player being told and nudged to play tennis instead. You wouldn't play the clarinet if you loved heavy metal would you?

This little story should have some value for us. It illustrates clearly the idea that chess can be played in many ways, approached from different perspectives and meaning derived from a plethora of lenses. If you love playing dashing attacks, probably 1.c4 isn't for you, at least not all the time. If you're in love with solid, safe positional chess, gambits shouldn't be the first thing to pop into your mind. You should play chess in a way that satisfies your creative ambitions and excites you, and in the long-run you'll not only enjoy playing and studying more, but the results should follow as well. Don't try to be something or someone you're not, be you. Try to emulate your favourite players and play chess in a way that gets your blood pumping. Cultivate your strengths and shore up your weaknesses.
              Remember when you would come home and tell your mom about how you got rejected by Jennifer, the cute girl that used to sit beside you in history class? What did your mom always tell you? "Don't worry hunny, she doesn't care about your new Nike's, just be you, there's always another girl." And what did you think at the time? "Bullshit". Well girl or no girl, new Air Jordan sneakers or not,  no one likes a faker, especially you. Maybe mom was right..



Tuesday 3 April 2012

Shame.

"Win with grace, lose with dignity!"  -  Susan Polgar


Neither. As some of who you've had the displeasure of having to play me, you probably know just how appalling some of my post-game behaviour has been;especially when I lose. I tend to not want to do post-mortems or look you in the face, and quickly look for the nearest hole to curl up and die in. I'll come home and bitch about my loss to my non-chess playing friends and bemoan my fate. "Why must I lose to this idiot?" Screams Aron Nimzowitsch.


I think part of the reason why I take losing so badly is because I'm highly attached to results, an ego-maniac; a dangerous position as I'm sure you're all aware. For those of you that simply love the game and play it for it's own sake, some of what I'm about to talk about might seem alien. But first, a little story :)


Back at the 2009 Lethbridge Open, I was paired in the third round against a young guy named Tom Fox, a student at the U of L. Getting outplayed throughout the game against my lower rated opponent, I began to sink. "Jesus, why doesn't he just play the knockout now, IT'S RIGHT THERE SEE!?" He bails me out eventually and allows me to reach a winning rook and pawn ending. His 1 rook and A and B pawns vs. my 1 rook and A through D pawns. A sigh of relief blows through me. I get excited, "thank you Caissa, maybe you're not a bitch after all." Not 10 moves after this self-dialogue,  I pick up my king and move it to the only square that loses, allowing a skewer picking up my free rook. In complete amazement, emotions firing out of control, I gently raise my right hand and backhand with fury my king into the wall just to the right of us. I offer the offending hand over the board, not looking at him, which he shook--I darted out of the room as soon as I could. Afterwards, mulling the game over in my head over a delicious cigarette with nerves calmed, I realized just how surreal that moment must have been for him. I hoped with anxiety that I'd get the chance to apologize for my chemicals had gotten the best of me. Minutes later he walks into the parking lot with his friend Greg Holmes, and I walk over to try and excuse my poor manners, he accepts my apology. I'm whole again. 


I play to win, plain and simple. Winning is everything to me. If I don't win, I'm a loser, but If I win, my opponent must have been sick, off his game, didn't care etc. Unfortunately, very very few wins give me real satisfaction, the kind of endorphin rush that ought to make a person proud and show his game to friends. As I mentioned in a previous entry, winning games is nothing without the satisfaction of having dragged your opponent through the mud, to make him wish he had never sat down to play you the first place. I want my opponents to feel the same way about their chess as I do about my own little sad life. Winning isn't the icing on the cake of having played a decent game, no win, no cake, no icing, nothing. It's a very precarious situation playing chess only for the satisfaction of results, ego boosts and sadism, for of course you can never get it all the time, a fleeting sense of enjoyment, a drug. And like most drugs, the longer you use, the less pleasure you get from them, the scale starts to tip the other way and before you know it, you're sitting on the other side wondering what the hell you did to get there, you're lost at sea, no paddle, and just angry. "Don't do drugs kids" says the hypocrite, "drugs are the perfect solution to every problem you have right now, they're so good that they'll ruin your life"..and I can't stay away. 


The road to chess improvement is paved with bad materials. The car can't seem to go fast enough, the road signs are never where you want them, all the other drivers are either maniacs or idiots, the driving manuals are too complicated, text too small, brakes too touchy, and constant breakdowns. Did I check my oil before the left the house? 16 moves later, "cluck, cluck, cluck" goes the engine. "OnStar, roadside assistance, how can I help you?" "You can't" click.