The Chess Mind

All four games were drawn, but three of the four were extremely hard fought. I had predicted wins for Adams and Leko and draws in the remaining two games, and about three hours in it looked like I would go four for four. Polgar and Morozevich fought well, however, and saved their games, but meanwhile it looked as though Topalov was going to beat Anand. In a game that exhausted everyone, including the spectators, the two heavyweights took turns giving away half points, until Anand at long last - move 97 - saved the draw.

UPDATE: MY ANALYSIS IS HERE

Standings after Round 2:

Anand, Topalov 1.5
Adams, Kasimdzhanov, Morozevich, Svidler 1
Leko, Polgar .5

Pairings for Round 3:

Anand-Adams
Morozevich-Topalov
Polgar-Kasimdzhanov
Svidler-Leko

Round 3 could be a snoozer, with the players deciding to catch their breath after the bloodthirsty chess of the last two days. Assuming the players come out fighting, I predict wins for Anand (despite an exception to the trend earlier this year, Adams is one of Anand's most regular customers) and Topalov (at least if he isn't too depressed about missing several wins against Anand), expect a decisive result in Polgar's game but don't have a clue about what it will be, and think Svidler-Leko will peter out (pun intended) to a short draw.

Some sites covering the FIDE World Championships:

1. The official event website.

2. ChessBase has various articles covering the match, and will include post-round summaries by GM Nigel Short - the first one is here.

3. Susan Polgar presented a round 1 summary, and will presumably offer new ones every round. This could prove interesting given the personal angle. (I note a difference of opinion between Susan Polgar and Nigel Short on the J. Polgar-Anand game. SP suggests that JP's decision to castle queenside represented an effort to avoid a peaceful draw, while Short seems to think she was drifting into trouble already, and this was an attempt to stem the tide.)

4. The Week in Chess, long one of the essential sites in the chess world, is offering special coverage of the event - start here.

5. Chesspro.ru has an English-language page on the tournament; unfortunately, the link to first round annotations will help your chess only if you can read Russian. Nevertheless, in the hopes that English-language material will show up, here's the link.

Other sites:

1. Former FIDE champion Ruslan Ponomariov has started an official website. There isn't too much material there yet, but hopefully the site will continue to develop. (My prediction is that it will die - Kramnik and Leko had active sites for a while that are now moribund, and likewise the one-time buzz about Kasparov's chesschamps website seems to have faded as well.)

2. If you're looking for a portal, Michael Goeller's Links to Online Resources looks like a pretty good place to start, even if there are some notable omissions!

3. There's a brief but interesting interview with Victor Korchnoi here, wherein the legend speaks his mind on the San Luis world championship.

4. Doing my civic duty, I note that ND Chess Club co-prez Dan Dugovic has his own (primarily) chess-related website, complete with problems, articles and games.

5. Quite noteworthy is the site for the new online chess magazine The Chess Chronicle. It's a commercial endeavor, but five very large sample issues are available for freeloaders and those deciding whether to spend their money.

6. Want to practice your tactics while keeping your thoughts on the World Championship? Check out WT Harvey's massive Chess Puzzles by GMs website and pick out your favorite GMs, including those participating in San Luis.

7. Another, more traditional tactics website is the Chess Tactics Server. I tried it as a guest for 20-30 minutes or so a few days ago, and the problems were pretty easy. If they're graded to go up as you continue, though, it might be useful for a wide range of players.

8. It's not free, but chess video fans might want to consider the IM-laden ChessLecture.com website. Presenters include fellow chess.fm "refugees" Bill Paschall and Mark Diesen, as well as Dave "fluffy" Vigorito.

The first game to finish, without much effort, was Svidler-Adams, a Petroff drawn in 24 moves.

The next two games, featuring the two favorites, finished at almost the same time and with the same result.

Polgar-Anand was a massacre, as Polgar chose a non-testing line against Anand's Caro-Kann, before choosing an extremely dubious attacking idea. She allowed Anand to destroy her kingside pawn structure, but in return, Polgar hoped that by castling queenside, she could generate an attack with the bishop pair and the g-file. Pretty optimistic, and on the playchess.com server, Seirawan and Kasparov predicted an easy win for Anand, and they were right. Polgar's loose queenside pawn structure sped up Anand's attack, and she was convincingly defeated.

Leko-Topalov was also won by the rating favorite with Black, but it took a vastly different route. Leko had a colossal advantage out of the opening and a forced win on move 20 (with 20.Nb6!, the main line proceeding 20...Qxb6 21.Nxe6! Qxe6 (21...Qxf2 22.Nc7/Ng7#) 22.Qa7!). Leko still seemed to be in charge, but once Topalov played 23...Rd8 the White attack was over and a winning ending for Black ensued.

Morozevich-Kasimdzhanov was drawn, but not without some adventures. Morozevich had a nice pull most of the way, but Kasimdzhanov showed off his defensive prowess and not only neutralized White's advantage but gained a small edge of his own. It wasn't enough to win in the rook ending that ensued, but before that ending, Kasimdzhanov missed his big chance: 40...Rg5! (threatening 41...Qg3+ and 42...Qxg2#) can't be met without (at least) losing the d-pawn for nothing.

Click here to replay the games with my (light) annotations.

Standings after Round 1:

Anand, Topalov 1
Adams, Kasimdzhanov, Morozevich, Svidler .5
Leko, Polgar 0

Pairings for Round 2:

Adams-Polgar
Kasimdzhanov-Svidler
Leko-Morozevich
Topalov-Anand

Another big round, with the two favorites facing off. My predictions: Adams and Leko win, the other games drawn.

I'm usually more interested in the Chess Cafe's offerings for the second week of the month, but at least four of tonight's articles caught my eye for one reason or another.

First, Hans Ree has an article on 6-time Dutch Champ Loek van Wely's recent triumph, and I found both Ree's text and especially van Wely's comment on move 26 of his win against Smeets (using a novelty intended for Shirov!) of interest; the latter as I presented that very game in a recent post.

Next, Brian Karen drew my attention to Bruce Pandolfini's column and the following quote therein:

Reshevsky was probably an A-Player/Expert when he took a break from chess study and competition, sacrificing his chess development for five years while immersing himself in Talmud. He survived that to eventually challenge for a top spot in international chess.

"A-Player/Expert"? That initially struck me as crazy, especially as Reshevsky had defeated Janowski - one of the strongest players in the world - in 1922, two years before his break. However, I've since browsed Reshevsky's games through 1924, and I'm not so sure any longer - he was a bit lucky against Janowski, and lost quite a few very bad games to strong masters. I don't have any of Reshevsky's books, but I think his chess autobiography is available in my university's library, and I'll be interested to see what (if anything) the legend has to say about his strength in 1924.

The third eye-catcher was Stefan Bücker's new "Over the Horizons" column (replacing Tim McGrew's Gambit Cartel, I assume). Bücker, as some of my readers will know, is the author of the anti-French monstrosity as 1.e4 e6 2.c4 d5 3.cxd5 exd5 4.Qb3? (covered in some depth in my previous blog - start here and work your way backward), and you'll find several more of his pet lines mentioned in his Chess Cafe article. That article focuses on his most famous creation, the "Vulture" (1.d4 c5 2.d5 Nf6 3.c4 Ne4), an odd-looking line with a blend of Benoni and Benko Gambit motifs.

Bücker is quite positive on the system's objective merits and claims his article "has all the logic that you need to play it well." Having played it in my young, foolish past (+3=2-0, I believe, but not thanks to the opening!), I disagree on both counts - but arguing this is the burden of another day. And despite my low view of that opening, I think interested readers should give it a try - one will learn something new about chess by wading in such unfamiliar waters.

Finally, I was amused by the title of an 1888 Wilhelm Steinitz article presented in "From the Archives": "A Lecture on the Mental Derangement of So-Called Chess Critics and their Treatment: With Living Illustrations". Nice! (N.B. Fans of what's popularly called "karma" will note that Steinitz suffered from mental illness at the end of his own life. Be careful what you ridicule...)

At last, the FIDE World Championship is upon us!

First, a word of condemnation for the official website organizers - see here. Mig tries to give them the benefit of the doubt when he suggests the site's attempting to charge potential viewers $40 may be due to a desire to avoid a traffic-based server crash, but that seems to me preposterous. Unless someone hopelessly naive had been in charge the last 6-7 months, traffic issues would have been considered and handled a long time ago. Whatever the actual explanation, the possibility that FIDE might have no live coverage of the biggest event of the year - possibly the biggest (i.e. most significant) FIDE event in nine years - is absolutely disgraceful.

The event is a double round robin with the following players:

Viswanathan Anand IND 2788
Veselin Topalov BUL 2788
Peter Leko HUN 2763
Peter Svidler RUS 2738
Judit Polgar HUN 2735
Michael Adams ENG 2719
Alexander Morozevich RUS 2707
Rustam Kasimdzhanov UZB 2670

And now, predictions!

Anand: I expect he'll come in first. Other than Kasparov, no one has been more successful the past decade, with the possible exception of Kramnik, and Kramnik (a) isn't playing and (b) has played poorly this last year in any case. Anand's opening preparation is the best, he can pretty much draw with Black whenever he wants, never gets in time trouble, has more experience than everyone else, and has great nerves. Unless he's in awful form, he will be a leading contender and the winner unless someone else gets really, really hot.

Topalov: He might be a better "fish-killer" than Anand, and when he gets on a hot streak he's capable of anything. Unfortunately, there aren't any fish here, and further, when he's not hot, his "normal" form seems inferior to Anand's normal form. So I think that unless he really gets on a roll, he'll be in the top four, but won't win.

Leko: Always solid, but I don't think he can win enough games to keep up with Anand in good form or Topalov in great form. I expect he'll score +1 or +2, +3 if everything's wonderful - good scores, but not enough to win unless one of the favorites loses the event.

Svidler: A very entertaining player, but I wonder if he has enough self-confidence to win. He has always seemed intimidated by Anand, and hasn't won a super-GM event in a long time. I expect he'll finish between +1 and -2.

Polgar: I think she's the tournament wildcard. As a youngster, she skyrocketed into the elite circuit, but then she more or less stalled for nearly a decade as a "mere" high-2600 GM. She had lost practically every game against Kasparov, Kramnik, and Anand (one or two old wins against the latter, none against the rest and tons of losses), but starting around late 2002 something changed. Her rating has been climbing steadily, even despite her maternity leave from the game in 2004, and I think she has a real chance to win the event.

Adams: As solid and strong as he is, he almost never wins super-GM events, and I don't see it happening now - especially with his relatively unimpressive recent results. At best, I think he might achieve +2 if he's in great form, +3 if that form is accompanied by some little luck. But I think -2 or -3 is just as likely, and something in between the most probable outcome.

Morozevich: Last. As far as I can tell, his nerves are the least tested of the field, he hasn't ever done well in FIDE World Championship events, plays fairly rarely and has expressed a lack of confidence in his recent form in the interview linked here.

Kasimdzhanov: The second-best (active) rapid player in the world (behind only Anand), a resourceful defender blessed with great nerves, Kasimdzhanov is still - rightly - a big underdog. Yes, he won the FIDE World Championship last year, but in my view that was largely (not wholly!) due to his proficiency in rapid play. I think this year's Linares was a more reliable predictor: at first, he held his own against the field, but as the elites got used to him, the tide turned and he was crushed in the second half. He'll scrap and fight, but I expect a placement in the bottom half of the tournament table.

To recap: Anand is the favorite (surprise, surprise), with Topalov, Leko and Polgar having real chances to pull off a (mild) upset.

Round 1 Pairings: (Games start at 2 p.m. ET)

Morozevich-Kasimdzhanov
Polgar-Anand
Leko-Topalov
Svidler-Adams

An incredible first round! All the slight underdogs (in my book) have White against those who are, in most cases, closest to their nearest rival for their projected place. I think that any decisive results will be huge, especially if either Polgar or Leko win. My predictions, sure to be wrong:

Kasimdzhanov wins
Polgar draws
Leko draws (but a near-50% chance of a win - I know, I'm lamely hedging)
Svidler draws

Retractions in a few hours, I'm sure.

I may revise my comments policy, but I prefer, if possible, to rely on my readers' good faith. One request I'd like to make is that readers not attempt to use my site for advertising purposes. I'm happy to refer others to sites I find meritorious or of interest, but don't wish to be used as a clearinghouse for advertisements. If you have a site you think readers might like, drop me an email through the "Contact" link, and chances are good I'll mention it on my own.

Thanks!

...can be found here. I'm somewhat surprised at the large gap between Anand and Topalov, but his incompletely presented explanation makes sense, as far as it goes. In any case, take a look, and note that Sonas will provide updates on the event's rest days.

Washington Post chess columnist Lubosh Kavalek takes a quick look at the opening of the Nakamura-Volokitin game presented on this blog a few days ago. One might say he's a bit underwhelmed by the idea.

Have a look, and while you're there, play through the Sax-Hermansson game. It's a light game, but it serves as a salutary reminder that if one's king is stuck in the center on a half-open file, bad things are likely to happen. And so they did.

The FIDE World Championship in San Luis, Argentina, starts this Wednesday, and so we conclude our preview this Monday with a look at the chess of Russian original Alexander Morozevich.

"Moro" is known as an opening innovator with a taste for the unusual and great endgame technique, and those qualities are all on display in his White game with Shirov in the 2001 super-tournament in Astana. Morozevich essays his patented 5.Bd3 against the Petroff, and although the game doesn't exactly turn into a Najdorf, the ensuing middlegame is far from dull. Shirov is a great endgame player, but Morozevich outplays him in the game's final stage in an instructive display of "Capablanca's rule" - that queen + knight are stronger than queen + bishop.

It isn't a spectacular game, but it's very rich, instructive, shows off Morozevich's strengths, and best of all for some of you, shows the Petroff's Defense taking it on the chin. Hope to see everyone this Monday night at 9 p.m. ET!

For those new to the show, directions for watching live broadcasts - or past programs in the archives - can be found here, while a list of games I've presented in previous shows can be found here.

I quit playing chess in 1988, started to return in 1992 when the (now) Icelandic GM started and ended his comeback, and came back in earnest in 1997. What I discovered was that top-class chess was suddenly foreign to me; I didn't really understand what was going on, I couldn't grasp the essential nature of the positions.

You might object that I didn't understand top-class chess back in 1988, either. At best I was approaching IM strength, and that's quite a ways down from the level of a top GM. I don't deny the large gulf in playing ability and understanding, so let me clarify my meaning. What I mean, when I implied that I "got" big-league chess, pre-retirement, was that the sorts of middlegame structures and plans found in their games made sense to me. Pieces made sense on those squares and the plans were intelligible. Of course given moves and mini-plans sometimes surprised me, and there were plenty of other ways in which my abilities fell short of the elites.

What I experienced when I came back, however, was something different. The tabiyas were far more complicated and diverse, and both sides would strive to play actively all over the board rather than on just one side or the other. The chess I knew from a decade before looked positively quaint! I managed to catch back up, but it didn't happen immediately, and it was disconcerting to see just how little I understood even on a superficial level.

Fast-forward to Alexander Morozevich, who is to my mind the least accessible GM of the present day. For starters, there are his openings - I don't think anyone since the 60s, maybe even the 50s, has blazed more opening trails than he has. Kasparov has dug more deeply, but in established variations. Morozevich, like Kipling's Cat Who Walks Alone, creates new paths almost from scratch. There's the Chigorin, the French with 3...Be7, his ...f6 and ...g5 lines in the Slav, the KIA/Chigorin vs. the French, 4.Ng5 against the Two Knights, the Albin Counter-Gambit, and so on - to say nothing of the even crazier lines I've seen him try in internet blitz. It's safe to say that Morozevich is a real original, a truly independent spirit (at least in chess).

It's not just that his opening choices are unusual, however. Even when he enters "normal" opening lines, Morozevich generally finds a way to convert the position into something unusual. I don't understand the positions he gets and am regularly surprised by his moves even in positions I thought I grasped. In short: confusion reigns.

It's somewhat of a comfort to me that even GMs don't seem to understand his chess, either. In preparation for this week's ChessBase show, I looked through some recent books by Gambit publishers: Stohl's Instructive Chess Masterpieces, John Nunn's Understanding Chess Move by Move, Alfonso Romero's Creative Chess Strategy, Drazen Marovic's Secrets of Positional Chess, and Zenon Franco's Chess Self-Improvement.

Looking for games by Kasparov, Karpov, Kramnik or Shirov (KKKS)? You're in luck - all the books mentioned above offer plenty of their games. Morozevich? Only Stohl dares to present a Morozevich game (a win over van Wely); the rest ignore him (except for a one-move tactic in Marovic, concluding a Topalov win against Morozevich). It's not that KKKS share a uniform style, nor (except for Kasparov) a clear edge in strength.

So what's the deal? In my view, they haven't really figured him out. It can't be that his games are worthless for study - how could that be true of a 2700's chess? It's ironic that Kasparov's games might be easier to understand than those of a player 100-150 points lower-rated than he is, but that's how it seems.

But even these GM annotators shouldn't feel too bad. The nearly incomprehensible philosopher Hegel allegedly said, on his deathbed, that only one person ever understood him - and even he didn't really understand him. Likewise, in many of his self-annotated games, Morozevich has been quite liberal in awarding "?" and "??" evaluations to his own moves, suggesting even he doesn't know what the heck is going on in his games. So it's unanimous!

I offer this lengthy post to three ends. First, self-exculpation: I'm explaining why it has taken me longer than usual to announce my game for this week's ChessBase show! It's hard to find a clean, (relatively) comprehensible Morozevich win. Second, I think doing a deep study of his games would be a great project for strong players. Eventually, his contributions to our game will be assimilated into the common understanding, but why not get ahead of the curve? Finally, it's to draw special attention to his participation in the upcoming FIDE championship. He probably won't be the most successful player there, but he might well have the most interesting games.

Invitations for the FIDE World Championship were issued at the start of the year, given to the top seven players in the world plus defending FIDE champ Rustam Kasimdzhanov. Kasparov and Kramnik both declined, but that wasn't enough to secure a place for Vassily Ivanchuk. A pity, perhaps, but lines have to be drawn somewhere.

Still, while he was 11th (or 9th, excluding Kasparov and Kramnik, or most accurately 10th, as Judit Polgar was off the list due to inactivity) at the beginning of the year, he has been having a fantastic 2005. On the April list, he was 5th, excluding Kasparov, 4th (sans GK) on the July list with a hefty 2752 rating, and now thanks to his remarkable 2940 performance rating in the just-completed European Club Cup, he might bypass Leko into the number three spot. (Meanwhile, ironically, Adams and Morozevich have fallen to 11th and 12th, respectively, excluding GK and Kramnik.)

Ah, the heartbreak of sorites.

In my recent discussion of doubled pawns, I noted that although they're generally less effective in situations calling for mobility, they're often quite useful in situations where they don't need to move. In a slogan: bad for offense, good for defense.

Yet this slogan doesn't just apply to doubled pawns. In tonight's issue (1784) of Chess Today (brief self-promotional plug: I've joined their team as one of their book reviewers), GM Alexander Baburin notes a peculiar feature of endings with queen against two minor pieces. In most contexts, the bishop pair is more desirable than a pair of knights. To take one obvious example, mentioned by Baburin, giving mate with two bishops against the lone king is trivial, while it's impossible to force mate with two knights (unless one starts with mate in one). Yet things are exactly opposite when the bishop pair and knight pair face the queen: the bishops have but one drawing fortress, while the knights draw from just about any normal position.

Another example: the dreaded rook pawn. One can even have an extra bishop or knight and still be unable to win when their sole pawn is a rook's pawn. Yet there are defensive contexts in which an a- or h-pawn is terrific: e.g. White: Kg7 ph7; Black: Kc4 Qd4 - White plays 1.Kg8, yawns, and draws. (White also draws with bishop-pawns, but not with knight- or central pawns.)

No doubt there are other examples, too (e.g. R+B is generally considered better than R+N, but Q+N may be better, abstractly speaking, than Q+B), but hopefully these examples help us see that few piece or pawn configurations are good or bad per se; it depends on the context. A big part of chess skill is recognizing which contexts apply, and the first step is to realize that there are different contexts in the first place!

Three down, seven to go. Next win, Purdue. :)

I thought before that FIDE (read: Ilyumzhinov) was simply going to freeze Kramnik out; this interview with Ilyumzhinov, however, paints a somewhat more optimistic picture. We can hope!

Like the dodo and the politician unwilling to exploit tragedies for political gain, the old main line of the Botvinnik variation of the Semi-Slav (BVSS) once proudly walked the Earth, but is now most likely to be found in museums. (Of course, I'm only kidding about politicians. They've always placed self-aggrandizement first.)

One might remember the BVSS: it was inordinately popular in the mid-90s, and Alexei Shirov devotes an entire section of his classic Fire on Board to his games in the variation. The old main line starts with the following moves: 1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6 3.Nf3 Nf6 4.Nc3 e6 5.Bg5 dxc4 6.e4 b5 7.e5 h6 8.Bh4 g5 9.Nxg5 hxg5 10.Bxg5 Nbd7 11.exf6 Bb7 12.g3 c5 13.d5 Qb6 14.Bg2 O-O-O 15.O-O b4

Here White has a choice between 16.Na4 and 16.Rb1, and today we're taking the second path: 16.Rb1 Qa6 17.dxe6 Bxg2 18.e7 Bxf1

Do you understand what's going on here? If you answered yes, you're lying. 19.Qd5 Bh6 20.Bxh6 Bd3 21.Qa8+ Nb8 22.exd8Q+ Rxd8 23.Re1 bxc3 24.Bf4 Qb6 (24...Qb7? 25.Re7!+-) 25.bxc3 Bf5 26.h4 Qb7

I quote Shirov (Fire on Board, p. 210):

Until this move everything has been played before in the game Yermolinsky-D. Gurevich, USA Championship 1994, which White won after 26...Be6 27.Kh2 Rd7 28.h5, etc. The text forces White to go in for an ending which was considered lost for Black by Yermolinsky, but in fact is drawn.

27.Qxb7+ Kxb7 28.Re7+ Rd7 29.Bxb8 Kxb8 30.Rxd7 Bxd7 31.Kg2 Kc7 32.Kf3 Kd6 33.Kf4 Bc6!!

Again, Shirov:

You have to find such moves at home if you play the Botvinnik variation! If White can get his king to g5 and pawn to f4 then Black can only resign. The bishop manoeuvre prevents this set-up.

The game concluded as follows: 34.Kg5 Bf3 35.Kf5 Kd5 36.g4 Kd6 37.h5 Kd5 38.Kf4 Bd1 39.Kg5 Bf3 40.Kf4 Bd1 41.Kg5 Bf3 42.Kf4 1/2-1/2

Shirov, one last time, in an understandable bit of showing-off:

Drawn because of threefold repetition. As the reader will have realized, the final position had been analysed at home. Sometimes the Botvinnik variation gets so boring...

This game proved quite persuasive, and White started to vary in order to avoid this ending. (One recent exception was the game Benen-Hoekstra from the 2004 U. S. Junior Championship, which followed this game to the very end, with a meaningless, quickly erased deviation on move 39. I assume the game was a pre-arranged draw, though maybe Benen was only testing Hoekstra's memory.)

Fast forward nine years to the 2005 Dutch Championship. On his way to winning his 6th national title, Loek van Wely decided to test the conclusions of theory. Shirov just barely drew against Azmaiparashvili by activating his bishop for the defense, and thus van Wely's novelty was designed to keep Black's light-squared bishop from meaningful employment. You can find the details here, as well as the Yermo-Gurevich, Azmai-Shirov and Benen-Hoekstra predecessors. Further, I've also included (though without comment) two subsequent BVSS games from the Dutch Championship.

If you're looking for a crazy opening to add to your Black repertoire, I think you'll enjoy the BVSS, and even if you don't want to play it, this variation will provide you with hours of entertainment and analytical homework. Have fun!

(1) A few days ago I mentioned a Fox Trot comic strip's having a little fun with our favorite game; here, courtesy of chess historian Edward Winter's "Chess Notes" website, are a small collection of comic strips and cartoons.

Bring back "Chessman", I say! (Older readers may know what I'm talking about; for the young, it was s series written by IM John Watson and illustrated by the late Christine Hendrickson. It starred Chessman, and detailed his adventures against famous players with slightly butchered names - Boris Spastic, Nona Illhavesomespaghetti, etc. It's probably not politically correct anymore, but it was in good fun and I don't remember anyone's not getting a kick out of it at the time.)

(2) Odds, anyone, on the San Luis FIDE World Championships? Kasparov has claimed that the probability that the winner will be one of the trio of Anand, Topalov and Leko is .95. Nigel Short disagrees, and Frederic Friedel explains how probabilities work and gives us the current odds as set by the gambling public. It's all here. As for my own predictions, I'll give them before the event starts on the 27th of this month.

(3) More ChessBase: an interim report on the European Club Cup can be found here, and includes a brief interview with Kramnik. Some answers replicate those given in the interview I linked in a previous post, but there are some new questions and answers as well. One of note finds Kramnik singling out Karjakin as especially promising among the up-and-comers.

(4) Speaking of strong juniors, some time earlier this year Hikaru Nakamura had the chance to play some blitz games with Garry Kasparov on ChessBase's playchess.com server. One story I heard was that they broke even, but if the collection in Nakamura's ICC library (handle: "Smallville" - modest, eh? He probably just likes the TV show) is complete, then the score was 4.5-1.5 in Nakamura's favor. Part of that score, I'm sure, is a reflection on Nakamura's great speed and vastly superior familiarity with the interface, but still: it's Kasparov! It may not be "real" chess, but it's impressive nevertheless.

(5) Finally, and returning to San Luis information, each of the participants have been asked the same series of insipid and sometimes pointless questions. (You'll see.) Click here for Morozevich's answers (by far the least robotic of the bunch), then use the links at the bottom of that page to view the rest.

A standard bit of beginner's book lore informs us that doubled pawns are a BAD thing. Not the end of the world, maybe, but something to be avoided, especially if one can do so without losing material. Most of us eventually overcome this primer-induced phobia, but perhaps not wholly. And isolated, doubled pawns? Fuggedaboutit.

But what's so bad about doubled pawns? They aren't necessarily any weaker than their one-per-file counterparts. Square control is lost? Maybe, but it might be that the doublets control a pair of squares that couldn't otherwise be (simultaneously) covered.

So again, what's the problem? There are generally two worries that get raised in the literature. First, if one's pawn majority includes a doubled pawn, it is generally impossible to force a passer on that side. Consider the queenside pawn structure typical of the Exchange Variation of the Ruy Lopez. Black has pawns on a6, b7, c7 and c6; White pawns on a2, b2 and c2. Black can arrange her pawns as she pleases, but if White puts his pawns on a3, b2 and c3 (and doesn't initiate a pawn capture on b4, but lets Black capture first), then Black cannot create a passed pawn. (Leaving aside other pieces, of course.)

The second worry is that a structure with doubled pawns is generally less flexible. Compare the pawn structures a2/b2/c2 with b2/b3/c2. The first structure can easily move forward, and in a wide variety of ways. The second structure's possibilities are far more limited, however, as the reader can easily confirm with a little experimentation.

We can thus draw both a negative and positive conclusion. On the debit side, doubled pawns are generally less useful in contexts where their mobility is required. On the other hand, if what counts is where the pawns are, not where they're going, then doubled pawns might even be an asset!

To help demonstrate the bright side of doubled pawns, take a look at the games Aronian-Kramnik and Pantsulaia-Vaganian, both from the ongoing European Club Cup - accessible here. Aronian astutely demonstrates the defensive capacities of doubled pawns in a static context, while Pantsulaia's choice to "ruin" his pawn structure is motivated by dynamic considerations. And the remarkable thing about the two cases is that the players in question not only accept doubled pawns, but isolated doubled pawns at that! Naturally, this doesn't show that doubled pawns are never bad - especially doubled and isolated pawns. But there are plenty of cases where they're not, and I hope this post gives my readers a better sense of which is which.

The game Jobava-Ivanchuk from the Capablanca Memorial in Havana earlier this year began as follows: 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 b6 4.Bg5 h6 5.Bh4 Be7 6.Nc3 c5!? 7.e4 cxd4 8.Nxd4 d6 9.Ndb5 a6, and now Vera in his notes to the game in New in Chess 2005/5 considers 10.e5 (instead of Jobava's 10.Bxf6) dxe5 11.Bxf6, etc. While replaying the game, I was immediately drawn to 11.Qf3,



and in a first post I recommended that both my readers and I analyze the resulting position for ourselves, without the help of our little silicon friends. My unretouched, semi-quickie analysis can be found here, and while I'm not including analysis from my friends, readers and students, let me say that they did a pretty good job with this position!

Without further ado - and there has been far too much already - here is a tidied-up, finished product which not only presents the 11.Qf3 analysis, but the actual game in its entirety, complete with some of Vera's commentary. Click here for further enlightenment.

Two weeks ago, I presented some spur-of-the-moment analysis of a student's game, demonstrating what I thought was a very nice tactical idea, but which I also knew to be flawed. The reader's mission was to find the flaws, so for those of you who would like to check your work or just see the answers, click here.

(Reminder: when I'm presenting puzzles for which solutions are promised, please write me via the Contact link rather than comments, so that those who might otherwise try to solve the position don't have the opportunity to peek. Thanks!)

Several moons ago, I discussed US Champion Hikaru Nakamura's advocacy of 1.e4 e5 2.Qh5?! (here and here), and while it has (or had) surprise and psychological value, I think it's objectively bad. Of course, I could be wrong (though I have no reason to think so, in this case), and he'd be a favorite to defeat me in any case, but if I had to play Nakamura and could choose between facing the Ruy Lopez and 2.Qh5, I'd instantly choose the latter every time.

However, great talent that he is, Nakamura has matured since April and has adjusted his repertoire. Now he has introduced a key finesse: 1.e4 c5 and only now 2.Qh5. Better? Have a look here, at the recent game Nakamura-Volokitin, from the recently completed Lausanne Young Masters event (a knockout event won by Volokitin; Nakamura second).

You won't find any replayable boards on the e3e5 website, but because they do a good job of updating high-quality chess content on a semi-regular basis, it's a site meriting the occasional visit. Their latest offering comes from Chess Today regular and International Master Maxim Notkin, who takes a look at the best games of July (2005) here. Have a look, and click "cancel" when you're asked about the CA fonts.

Some time ago, I reported that Nigel Short's chess column in the Sunday Telegraph was replaced by a second poker column. (Culture, excellence and good writing are one thing, but we know what really count$.)

Happily, Short has found new employment at The Guardian, and you can enter their chess pages here. (At least until sudoku takes over.)

Chess is featured in today's Fox Trot - go chess! But c'mon, the chess team is less glamorous than the football team?! Get outta here! (Okay, maybe less glamorous than the Notre Dame football team.)

Can be found here. Surprisingly, the "noveltors" only scored 6/10 with their bombshells, so it's proof that while openings are certainly important, they're by no means everything. (On the other hand, those failing to win did so against (in game order) Shirov, Kasparov, Kramnik, Mamedyarov, Antal (not a famous player, but 141 points higher-rated than his opponent and playing White) and Svidler. So although I would still maintain that openings aren't everything, perhaps the evidence here isn't ideal for making that case.)

Two points en passant. First, as the Johannessen-Shirov game is cut off after Black's 26th move, here is the remainder and the result: 27.Rac1 h5 28.e3 Ne5 29.Bd5 Rd7 30.f4 Rhd8 31.e4 Ng4 32.Kf3 Kxb5 33.Ne3 Nxe3 34.Kxe3 and drawn.

Second, Black's novelty in Antal-Vegh may put to an end the suffering undergone by Kan Sicilian fans since the spectacular game Mitkov-Rublevsky, Neum 2000. The game deservedly received attention at the time, and it has stuck in my mind ever since. I think you'll like it too (even if you play the Kan variation), and you can replay it here.

See here.

Not a bad interview overall, but I found Kramnik's response in the following bit of Q & A quite surprising, in light of his earlier comments that the Prague agreements were not only no longer binding but just plain dead:

Q: With Kasparov’s retirement, do you think that there are more options of a World Champion title unification? What do you think about the San Luis “FIDE World Championship”? Why are you not playing?

A: The Prague agreements enabled me to play against the FIDE champion. I am ready to fulfil this agreement and play for the absolute world title against the winner of San Luis. I hope that the other side will carry fulfil the agreement as well.

If reunification happens, that's good news (though I recall reading that FIDE isn't so hot on the prospect of bothering with Kramnik anymore). Still, although Kramnik's sudden warmth to the idea isn't clearly in the spirit of some of his other, pre-Kasparov retirement declarations on the matter, I'm not wholly sure about this. For one thing, Kramnik had earlier expressed a desire for reunification to include more of the top players and to have some sort of defined cycle, and both seem to be happening now.

Those interested in reading more on the subject should take a look, among other places, here, here, and here. (To get the relevant parts, search each page for "Prague".)

David writes, by email:

Dennis--

I'd be curious to hear your thoughts (either by reply, or preferably on your blog) about whether today's grandmasters have distinctive "styles of play" in the strong sense in which that term is often used to characterize the greats of the past. My curiosity was piqued by the following exchange on ChessCafe.com in Misha Savinov's interview of Levon Aronian:

MS: Do you have some of Larsen's traits?

LA: Yes, I like jumping with my pieces here and there and pushing the pawns. Normally it makes my position just rotten. But then I try to create some active play, increase tension, look for tricks. I enjoy crooked positions.

I found it refreshing to hear such a distinctive (self-)description of a player's style. We think of Tal as an intuitive attacker and lover of chaos; Petrosian as a master of prophylaxis and defense; Botvinnik as an iron strategist; and, yes, Larsen as an eccentric, ever-optimistic prober and unbalancer. But (regardless of the accuracy of those particular descriptions) my impression is that nowadays stylistic differences among top players are much less acute. Leko may be slightly more defensive, Shirov more aggressive; but the level of technique (and perhaps computer preparation?) are so high today that most top players seem to have an indistinct, or concrete and context-sensitive, or perhaps universal, "style." Their choice of openings seems to dictate the types of positions they play more than anything else. What tests might one devise to determine the differences in "playing style" among current top GMs? Do convenient labels come to mind to describe the style of, say, Adams, or Anand, or Bareev?

Anyway, curious to know your thoughts.

Sorry to see you were spammed by a Polgarophile.

--David

David, I think you're right that stylistic differences have grown increasingly less noticeable, thanks to deep opening preparation, the ease of assimilating information thanks to computer databases, and above all due to the increased knowledge and strength of elite players.

Thus with deep opening preparation, practically all GMs at least dabble in a large range of openings, looking to use specific theoretical ideas whenever possible. This cross-pollination and mass opportunism hides the most obvious way in which style can reveal itself.

Likewise, the increased level of knowledge and technical skill smooth out the stylistic edges. Player X might be, by inclination, a card-carrying member of Swashbucklers-R-Us, but given current levels of defensive technique, to say nothing of the ability to prepare (especially with the computer) against ultra-forcing approaches, player X will need to rein in his or her tendencies if she hopes to succeed. (Look at Alexei Federov's massive failures when he was trying to climb into the world elite. Perhaps he has the talent to make it there, perhaps not, but his regular use of the King's Gambit and Dragon Sicilian turned him into a full-point bye for the big boys.)

That said, I still think there are stylistic differences. Look at Kramnik's 1.e4 games the past several years. He won quite a number of nice games, even in sharp Sicilians, but the way he won them had a different feel from that of a Kasparov or Anand.

But what is style? In my view, it's not a simple property but a composite of many factors: one's openness to risk, whether one prefers trying to win over avoiding a loss, whether one prefers rigid pawn structures to flexible ones, preferences for static vs. dynamic positions, preferences for outdigging in familiar fields vs. locating new ones, aggressiveness vs. solidity, the degree to which one is willing to endure tension in a position, and so on.

Of course, any strong GM will opt for a certain pawn structure, even if it's outside his usual range of comfort and special expertise, if he believes it is the best choice in a given position. But I think these preferences, and no doubt many others, which reflect both psychological dispositions and areas of particular excellence, will come to the forefront whenever no obviously best plan or move or idea suggests itself.

Returning to your initial example, David, of Aronian's "crooked" style, it will be interesting to see if Aronian can maintain his elite rating once he's playing with the Linares crowd, and if he does, if that happens because he "rounds off" his style.

A final thought in the form of a question. Is "style" something positive, or is it a way of saying one plays some positions and handles some situations less badly than one handles other positions or situations? Suppose I'm a pretty effective attacker, able to beat even titled players regularly by engaging in head-hunting, but a mediocre "positional" (a nearly meaningless term, in my opinion) player and a lousy technician. As the term is used in amateur chess, at least, I would be described as a player of attacking style. Suppose that my positional and technical skills develop to the point where I'm just as effective in those kinds of situations as when I'm attacking. Let's further suppose that those are the only three elements of style, and they occur with approximately equal frequency in my games. Do I have a style any longer? (One might say I have a "universal" style, but I'm not sure that it really signifies anything.)

Greg [last name withheld to preserve the secrecy of his repertoire!] writes:

Dennis, I will be returning to tournament play in November after a very long hiatus from the game. I have been using Chessbase CD-Roms and a few books (Play the French, 3rd edition) on the French Defense, Chigorin QGD, and Colle System to try to prepare for this event. I like openings that don't require massive preparation, allow me to minimize my opponent's options, and are reasonably sound. I don't want to try to memorize all kinds of book lines and I'm wondering if you have any suggestions about the best way to learn any or all of these openings. My last published rating was 1652, and I've been working with Junior 9 to get back into practice.

Thanks. I enjoy your blog.

Greg

Greg: I'm not sure you can play the French well without some pretty serious work, but let's waive that and turn to your question: what's the best way to learn these (or any) openings?

Here's my quick answer, which I suspect I've given before on my blogs (but couldn't find). First, pick one or more "heroes" for the opening in question. (Ex. Kasparov, Anand, or Gelfand in the Najdorf; Kramnik in the Berlin Defense; Short in the QGD for Black.) Create a database of their games, and play through them several times, quickly, to get an initial sense of how the opening and resulting middlegame tends to look when played by its leading practitioners. You'll notice certain move order finesses and typical middlegame plans, and that's not bad for starters!

Second, if you have a book on the opening in question, look through the main lines and model games. See what your opening should look like when everything goes right - and when everything goes right for your opponent, too. Pay attention to the key points emphasized by the author; less attention to fine points and memorization.

Third, start playing the line, especially in blitz. That will help solidify what you've seen, and make more personal and real the problems you need to solve. Compare what happens in your games with the heroes' games and with theoretical sources (ECO, NCO, an opening monograph, a computer book, etc.), not just to confirm your move order but the middlegame follow-up as well.

As you work up a track record of playing the line and examining your performance, it becomes time to start working on the details. Here, finally, it's appropriate to do a little memorizing of key lines and move-order finesses.

To recap: start with the big picture, with ideas. Develop some experience to see what the real problems are and to gain a feel for the line, and only then, after taking ownership of the line for yourself, should you start to worry about serious theory.

Hope that helps!

Kishore Kumar writes

Being an avid chess fan ,my dream of reaching master class strength seems too far ... i've tried searching websites for advice yet(since last 3 yrs)but dont think i've got any tangible first person inspirational stories.Any way, this being my first ever mail to anybody i would greatly appreciate any revelation from you (having been-there-done-that )as to how you attained that lofty (my point of view )goal.can we have the nuts and bolts of the whole story maybe as a blog or any other convenient presentation? thanks in advance. p.s any word from you would be deeply appreciated .

I haven't forgotten about your letter! I've been busy, and I've wondered what to say, as I haven't really been able to think of any such inspirational moments. There was never a moment when some chess hero gazed down from Olympus and told me that one day, I too would scale the heights. Whatever I've achieved in chess is primarily the result of three things.

First, my native endowments. Not much either of us can do about that at this point (though maybe, if God has middle knowledge [and I think God does], that statement needs to be finessed), so it's on to the next point.

Second, then, is that I loved the game and put in the effort. I went to the club, I'd play on the phone, I went over hundreds of games by hand, I'd study tactical puzzles on the bus to school in the morning - you name it. As my old pastor used to say (in a different but related context), "there's no magic foo-foo dust". If you don't put in the time, then unless God is giving you the moves by direct deposit, you're not going to get very good - even if you're a genius.

Third, of course, are the many people who helped me. There aren't any "chicken soup for the chess player's soul" stories here, but I'm grateful to many people who drove me to tournaments, came over to my house to play, occasionally let me borrow chess books or helped in some other way. They include, naturally enough, my mom, and I'd (here comes an Academy Award-type speech) also like to include John Trivett, Jim Brailsford, Joel Morris, Bill Pendergast, Dean Yarbro, Craig Chellstorp and Danny Olim. Certainly there are others, but those in the aforementioned group deserve special credit.

There were also a couple of then much-higher rated players who were quite gracious, enough so that I still remember it 20+ years later. The first was with Don Bicknell back in 1980. It was one of my first tournaments, and even though his rating was more than 400 points above mine, I defended grittily and even managed to win when he overextended. It was a last round game and I won first as a result, but despite the upset, rating points and money, he was a complete gentleman. I don't think someone watching him would have known whether he won or lost!

A second example was GM Jim Tarjan, who beat me pretty easily in the 1981 or 1982 Memorial Day tournament in (I think) Santa Monica. I've played plenty of titled players who thought a post-mortem consisted of a limp handshake without eye contact, but Tarjan behaved as if it was a sacred matter, the duty of the grandmaster to pass along his knowledge to the public, especially the young.

Bottom line: Inspiration? No. Help from others? Yes. "Secret" to becoming a master? Work!

I've been avoiding mention of the recent stories about the arrest of Colorado master and chess instructor Robert Snyder (for sexual assault with minors), because if he's found not guilty (and is in reality not guilty), the wrongfully inflicted damage to his reputation is likely irreparable, and I don't wish to be a party to it.

However, that cat is out of the bag all over the world of chess blogs, and since I have a word or two of advice that might be of use, here goes.

First of all, if you're a chess teacher, REFUSE to be the sole chaperone of ANY kids you didn't bring into the world. I have turned down several opportunities to earn some extra income by driving kid x to a tournament, and I simply won't do it. (I'm referring to driving a male child. All this gets raised exponentially if we're talking about a female student.) If the child is a minor, then even he's big enough to physically damage me, I'm not going anywhere with him in the absence of another adult, preferably one of his parents. Everyone stays out of trouble that way, and if you're a good teacher, you'll make plenty of money anyway.

Second, for parents: follow this same rule. If you can't bring your kid to a tournament, then he doesn't go. Or if he or she does go, this only happens when there are multiple adult chaperones, who do not stay in kids' rooms. In fact, I'd say that unless there's a medical emergency, no adult should ever be by him- or herself in a kids' room. Further, unless these chaperones have been investigated by the school district, forget about it. A freelance guy like me should NEVER be the chaperone, even if I'm with my wife, another chessplayer or instructor, whatever, if it involves situations where I could be out of the public eye with a child. (Part of a group, sure, as long as the group has some sort of worthy accreditation and, again, no one is ever alone with the kids.)

All this seems like common sense to me, just as (male) pastors should never counsel women behind closed doors, teachers should never be in an office with students of the opposite sex behind closed doors, etc. Instructors (or parents, if they take off work to take their kids) might lose a little money, and kids might miss out on opportunities to play every now and then, but that's life. Chess teachers don't have to worry about false rumors, and parents will have a lot less to worry about with their kids.

We continue our San Luis preview with a game between rating favorite and former FIDE world champion Viswanathan Anand and current FIDE champ Rustam Kasimdzhanov. In a recent rapid event, Kasimdzhanov gave Anand a run for his money in the finals, taking the first game before going down by a 2.5-1.5 margin, but overall, Anand has a huge plus (+7 -1 =3) in their head to head battles.

This week, we'll take a look at their most recent decisive game at a classical time control, their second game from this year's Linares super-tournament. Kasimdzhanov, with White, repeated an anti-Sicilian sideline he had tried in several previous games. It's a line with some bite - Svidler famously beat Kasparov with it in Tilburg 1997 - but Anand was ready. Black equalized, and thereafter the position took on a strange cast. White's position was okay, but somehow, he never quite managed to finish his development. How Anand managed to keep control, and almost imperceptibly increase his advantage and convert it into a winning attack, makes the game a model of exploiting the initiative. We generally associate that term with attacking play, but in this case, it's an initiative in the service of positional ends first; only later will Anand's positional trumps cash themselves out in a winning attack.

So join me this Monday night at 9 p.m. ET on the Playchess.com server for a great game and the usual post-show banter (but bring your own pizza). As usual, directions for watching live (or archived) shows can be found here, while a list of past shows' games is available to anyone clicking on the last word of this sentence.

Grr.

Two down, eight to go.

...can be accessed here.

Right now, it features an article by Petronich on a recent rapid event in Greece dominated by juniors: 12-year-old Ilias Kazantzidis came in first, 15-year-old Savvas Manelidis in second. Petronich provides some background, an annotated game and some pictures, so if this the start of a trend, his website will be well worth bookmarking.

[N.B. The website doesn't load properly in Firefox, but comes out fine in IE.]

A switchback, for those unfamiliar with the term, occurs when a player moves a piece from point A to B, and after the opponent makes some committal move (e.g. a pawn move or a capture), the first player immediately and favorably returns the piece from point B to point A. It's a common theme in chess compositions, but it occurs in game situations, too.

Naturally, I have an example for you, one from tonight's issue (#1775) of Chess Today. The featured game was Korobov-Bogner from the Grundfos Young Masters in Aarhus, Denmark, and while the game is noteworthy on several other levels (it's theoretically significant, it displays several unusual pawn formations, and features some brilliant play - especially White's 28th and 30th moves), my primary excuse for presenting the game is to demonstrate the switchback idea IM Maxim Notkin mentions in his annotations.

What now? Click here, of course!

When I came across the Khalifman analysis presented in the post Hokey Pokey Chess, what caught my eye was the yo-yoing of Black's pieces, punished, ironically, by a similar back and forth maneuver by the White queen.

My readers, however, seem to have been most taken by the nice queen sac with 14.Qg7!, and were reminded of a pair of precursors. Kyle Askine rightly remembered Ivanchuk's brilliant, spontaneous queen sac against Shirov, while Jonathan O'Connor (whose geometrically interesting correspondence game was presented here, with his notes) recalled a game Ermenkov-Kovacevic, featuring an interesting ...Qb2 combo. O'Connor also wonders, "[i]s there any such thing as an original combination?"

There are several possible answers; I'll start with the obvious one: of course it's possible - someone had to be the first to play Qg7/b7/g2/b2 with the relevant idea! On the other hand, if originality requires producing a thought no one else had, or producing an idea that didn't already exist, then no, not if there exists either an omniscient God or a Platonic realm.

Sticking with the mundane, I tried to investigate these sacrificial ideas, to see if I could find precursors to Khalifman, Ivanchuk and Kovacevic. It wasn't at all easy, and I can't claim anything like completeness for my search, but I gave it a shot. Most of the Qg7 (etc.) examples were simple mating and promotion combinations, but some of the best of the early, more original versions can be found here, together with the Ivanchuk and Ermenkov games. (Readers who find other examples are of course welcome to comment.)

In round 1 of the ongoing Eastern Open in Connecticut, my friend Brian Karen, a longtime high-2000/low-2100 player, achieved his first ever non-loss to an IM or GM in a tournament game, drawing GM Sergey Kudrin.

I'm happy for him, and the most interesting feature about the game is just how uninteresting it is! With White, Brian played a normal, solid opening, and Kudrin, a good, tournament-tested GM, was unable to achieve anything at all. Brian didn't have to play something crazy or obscure to trick Kudrin, didn't need some cheesy "Winning with Crappy Gambits" volume or video - nothing like that. On the other hand, he didn't go in for an absolute main line, but a solid second-tier variation. So one's choices aren't limited to becoming a theory zombie or going the trickster route; there is a middle way, especially with White against higher-rated players.

Take a look here and see for yourself!

Time for a brief foray outside the world of chess. (Those interested in chess alone can take a nap and wait for my next post.)

Intelligent Design Theory (IDT) has gained both fans and foes in the United States, and states, in brief, that it is possible to detect design in nature by employing a three-step filter. First, can some object or phenomenon be explained as the product of physical law? If so, then we stop: design cannot be inferred. If not, we proceed to step two: is it the product of chance? Again, a "yes" answer puts a stop to things, but a "no" allows us to conclude, or at least seriously consider, the possibility of design.

This so-called "design filter" is an idea of William Dembski's, and is well-illustrated by one of his favorite examples. It turns out that in elections, the first name listed on a ballot receives more votes, all things being equal (pathetic, isn't it?), so name placement it supposed to be determined by random processes. Take, however, a case in which one party winds up with its candidates listed first 40 out of 41 times in a given election.

To evaluate whether this is a case of fraud by the election supervisor, let's use the design filter. Was the ordering of candidates the result of some lawlike process? Not according to the supervisor, who claimed to have followed the rules by using a randomizing process. Ok, we move on to chance. Is it reasonable to expect that this could have arisen by chance? It's not impossible that it did, but as the odds against its happening were less than 1 in 50 billion, the best explanation was design: the supervisor engaged in fraud.

Dembski and IDT advocates wish to apply this to the biological realm. An organism's having certain features isn't the result of biological law, but of random genetic mutations. So it's not law, but, as the "random" part of "random genetic mutations" would suggest, a likely candidate for chance. But how much chance is acceptable? We must note that the degree of chance will be a function of the odds of a single event's occuring multiplied by the number of trials (our "luck resources"). (Thus the odds of flipping heads ten times in a row with a fair coin is 1 in 1024; pretty unlikely in a single trial, but overwhelmingly likely to happen many times over if hundreds of people are flipping coins all day.)

Determining how likely or unlikely an organism's having some feature really is will be a matter of great dispute and is the job for scientists and mathematicians. What can be said, according to Dembski, is that if it turns out that the probability of that feature's arising by chance, taking all the "luck resources" into account, is beyond some arbitrary but extremely small figure (1 in 10**150), then we can legitimately infer design.

Compare this with Young Earth Creationism (YEC), according to which the Earth is about 10,000 years old, "kinds" don't evolve into other kinds (i.e., while there is a great variety among, say, dog breeds, one will never get from a dog to a non-dog), geological strata aren't the product of billions of years but a worldwide Noahic flood, and human beings didn't evolve from non-human ancestors.

Both Intelligent Design Theorists and Young Earth Creationists believe that the biological realm is the product of a designer, and most advocates of these views are Christians. Further, like proponents of YEC, some of IDT's most prominent figures critique what they see as overoptimistic claims by the friends of (naturalistic) evolution. But does that make these two views "essentially" the same? One sometimes reads that IDT is "really" Creationism (by which the author has in mind YEC), but is this really so?

I don't think so.

I offer here several considerations to indicate that IDT and YEC are clearly conceptually independent - the differences are not merely cosmetic, but substantive.

First, IDT, as I understand it, does not intrinsically reject evolution, taken as a descriptive hypothesis about the lineage of organisms on Earth. One could in principle accept the thesis of universal common descent and hold that there is good evidence for intelligent design - in fact, I believe that is Michael Behe's position (or at least was at the time of Darwin's Black Box). That X can be designed by S even if Y is the proximate efficient cause of X is something regularly recognized in the case of human design (take, for example, the manufacture of cars and computer chips), and some, perhaps many, perhaps most ID theorists would say the same of the world's design. The young earth creationist, on the other hand, would not consider evolution as even a descriptive thesis, and that's a huge difference between the two.

Second, it seems to me that YEC is more closely tied to science in its proclamations than IDT. I don't mean by this that it is more accurate than IDT or that its scientific claims are acceptable - I'm not making any evaluative claims at all. Rather, my point is that YEC makes claims of a more empirically immediate sort than IDT: dinosaurs and humans co-existed, a worldwide flood explains geological strata, we can make inferences about mutation rates by examining the biological diversity that has occurred since the time of the Noahic flood, etc.

IDT, on the other hand, is something more like a philosophical hypothesis, or perhaps a meta-scientific framework. It's hard to cash IDT out in terms of concrete empirical predictions, and I'm not sure that it should. What it does claim is that design can be detected under certain conditions, and then looks to discover where those conditions have occurred.

Third, while YEC posits the God of the Bible as the designer, the IDT's designer (a) need not be the biblical God, (b) need not be omnipotent, omniscient, etc., (c) need not have created the universe, and (d) need not have any particular interest in humanity. (One might take Hume and Plato as examples of thinkers able to conceive of designers that, while immensely powerful and impressive, fell short of the God of traditional Western monotheism.)

Fourth, while the epistemic origins of YEC are religious (irrelevant though that is, if it can deliver the goods), there is nothing inherently religious about the design filter.

Fifth, the truth conditions for the two theories are different. (1) IDT could be true while YEC is false, and (2) YEC could be true while IDT is false. It's very easy to see how (1) could be the case, and (2) could occur at least two different ways. First, while it could be that the world has been designed (by the God of the Bible), Dembski's design filter might be a conceptually flawed way of detecting design. Second, YEC might be true, but its truth cannot be detected by Dembski's design filter (perhaps because the probability against a chance hypothesis doesn't quite reach the upper bound).

In short, the two are distinct in method, in how they interact with evolution (taken descriptively, divorced from a naturalistic metaphysics), in their predictions, in their empirical claims (and the lack thereof), in their religious implications and in their truth conditions.

They are simply not the same thing.

(N.B. for possible commentators: I am not endorsing (nor rejecting) either view in the above, but am arguing that the two cannot reasonably be equated. Second, I gently remind my readers to maintain appropriate decorum, regardless of their feelings towards either view, lest you suffer the same fate of the recent Polgar hyperfan!)

The clever hypermoderns realized, all those years ago, that one could control the center without occupying it, and they won numerous games against opponents who would rush into the center with as many pawns and pieces, only to learn they had overextended. Openings like the Pirc, Modern, Alekhine, King's Indian and Gruenfeld went from "Irregular" to respectable, despite the gigantic pawn structures White can create in those openings.

Of course, the hypermoderns had their excesses, too. Sometimes ceding too much central space is fatal, and the planned ambush is a miserable failure. One might take certain liberties, sometimes justifiably, but it's possible to go too far.

Enter volume 4 of Alexander Khalifman's excellent series Opening for White According to Anand, which covers 1.e4 d6 and 1.e4 g6 openings. I received a copy yesterday, and came across the following incredible line:

1.e4 g6 2.d4 Bg7 3.Nc3 Nc6



Typical hypermodernism! Black is begging White to push the pawn, in the hopes that White will (a) overextend and (b) make the Bg7 the dominant piece on the board. Khalifman recommends falling into Black's "trap":

4.d5 Nb8

You put your right knight in, you pull your right knight out.... It's a goofy-looking move, but the hope is to play ...c6 and start chipping at White's center. Besides, even though Black is undeveloping, White has only developed one piece as well!

5.h4!

A common way of attacking a fianchetto setup, and with Black's lack of central control and development, this is likely to turn out well.

Now, you might wonder about what I just wrote. Two paragraphs ago, I wrote that White has only developed one piece, and now I'm claiming that Black's laggard development is a problem. What gives? Well, the comment two paragraphs ago was written in part for dramatic effect, but it's also to highlight what it really means to be ahead or behind in development. Both sides have only one piece out, but while all of White's pieces can come out, one move after another, Black's can't: the Bc8 is stuck, the Nb8 can only go to a6, and Nf6 encourages e5. Black's next move is therefore pretty logical:

5...d6

Now e5 has been stopped (securing f6 for the Black knight), and the Bc8 has an open diagonal and d7 is available to the Nb8.

6.h5 Nf6 7.h6 Bf8

You put your bishop in, you pull your bishop out...

Black's play makes a funny impression, but still: White has only one piece out, and the pawn on h6 at least keeps the h-file closed. Besides, it might even become a weakness!

8.f4!



Khalifman's main line continues 8...Nbd7 9.g4! e5 10.g5 Nh5 11.Rxh5! gxh5 12.Qxh5 exf4 13.Bxf4 Rg8 14.O-O-O with a clear advantage for White. His sideline is far more entertaining, however, so let's continue with

8...Ng8

Another retreat! Black hopes to round up the h-pawn while White keeps shoving pawns, but this carries the forwards/backwards see-saw to an absurd extreme. The punishment needs to be seen:

9.Qd4 f6 10.f5! gxf5 11.Qd1!!



White can go backwards, too! Unfortunately, this is more like a richochet than a homecoming: the queen will bounce back out to h5, terrifying the poor Black king.

11...Qd7 12.Qh5+ Kd8 13.Qf7 Qe8



Not quite another instance of the hokey pokey, but another retreat to the first rank.

14.Qg7! Bxg7 15.hxg7 Nh6 16.gxh8Q Qxh8 17.Bxh6 fxe4 18.O-O-O



And White has a clear advantage, according to Khalifman. Sometimes opening theory can be so entertaining!

Dear

Alexander Kosalinsky
Shrestha Keshav
David Arutinian
Wopart
Guy Pelletier
anonymous
Sandra Tejada
Xavier
Jorge Palacios
Marek Podolsky
Josephine
R. Singh
V. Singh
Sasha Zilberman
Jacob
R. DeGuzman
Fred
H.D.
Miguel
Wolfgang
Delilah
Yolanda
Tinkerbell
Jacob Weissman
Marek Podolsky
Wojciech Blik
Upset User
Jorge Palacios
Maria Fernandez
Beautiful Bunny
Mad dog
Burt
Javier Torres
Lena Yokashvili
Luang Zhang
M. Rodriguez

(all commentators from this post) and all the rest from the earlier, Go, Nona! post (including my personal favorite, Johann Kriek, a name I remember from 1970s tennis):

You have been banned.

I found it a little curious that "Go, Nona!" had no commentators for six days, but a deluge of posters starting Monday morning. Further, many of the posters said almost exactly the same thing: "I'm from country x and I love Nona (or Maia, or Xie Jun, etc.), but Susan Polgar was the first to earn the title and a wonderful ambassador. Can't we just agree that I'm right?"

Virtually all demonstrated a curious immunity to my pleas to consider my arguments, while fluffy's sub-thread was met by abuse and a similar general disregard for the arguments he offered. And that's too bad, because both discussions raised interesting issues worthy of consideration.

In any case, my "many" respondents shared not only exceptionally similar viewpoints and ways of expressing them; it turns out, by a no doubt astonishing coincidence, that they share a common IP address as well. In short, all of the above are the same person, or at most, a very small group of people sharing the same computer or local network. It certainly isn't a collection of diverse, independent people from around the globe; rather, it's just a cheap stunt by (probably) one individual who misguidedly thinks this will improve Susan Polgar's reputation and help her cause.

My apologies to my readers for not detecting the fraud sooner. Live and learn! As for the individual in question, I hope you'll devote your impressive industriousness to helping chess rather than spamming, trolling and slandering those who don't completely agree with you about Susan Polgar and women's chess.

We now return to our regularly scheduled blog.

Those interested in scholastic chess might want to take a look at this site - it looks like a useful place to start one's research.

(Hat tip: Brian Karen)

I'm not sure how many more either needs to be said or even should be said, but as this post provoked a sudden storm of commentary - commentary which was abruptly stopped due to the 7-day limit set in my blog preferences - I've opened it up to another three days' worth of new comments.

The Dutch Championships are underway, and after five rounds of nine Loek van Wely leads with 4/5, a point ahead of the top-rated Sergei Tiviakov. I plan to cover one of van Wely's games from the event very soon; for now, I offer the nice miniature Jan Werle-Sipke Ernst.

Most of us are familiar with the "Greek gift" sacrifice Bxh7+, which stereotypically shows up in the French, and we're probably also familiar with the related two bishop sac, best known from Lasker-Bauer and Nimzowitsch-Tarrasch. While the position-types exemplified by those examples are the best-known manifestations of the sac, it can show up in other situations, too, and even very strong players can miss it!

So take a look here, and note the position after White's 20th move. Black's kingside is a bit exposed, but nothing so bad that a little exchanging move can't fix, right? Well...

We continue our series previewing the upcoming World Championship in San Luis, Argentina, and this week it's Veselin Topalov and Peter Leko taking center stage.

As the number two and three seeds by rating, the title could quite conceivably come down to their mini-match, and if it does, Leko will be in excellent shape, if history is any guide. Even when Leko was in his early teens, he was torturing the older, higher-rated Topalov, and on this week's show we'll take a look at one of those early games.

In Vienna 1996, the 21-year-old Topalov was in fine form, tying for first with Gelfand and Karpov and adding to his impressive 2750 rating. Yet although just short of his 17th birthday, Leko was a contender as well, finishing just half a point behind the victorious trio and destroying Topalov in their individual game.

Leko played the Caro-Kann in that game, and despite the defense's ultra-solid reputation, their game (as with most of their games over the years) became complicated in a hurry. Topalov had chances to develop a queenside attack, and over a period of several moves, if Leko hadn't played incisively, White would have been in good shape. He did, however, and while Topalov was repeatedly just one move short of consolidating, Leko's initiative grew into an overwhelming attack, and White was crushed.

In addition to the value of the game as a whole, it's also of interest from a theoretical standpoint for those who play either side of the Panov-Botvinnik Attack against the Caro-Kann. So I hope to see everyone this Monday night at 9 p.m. ET!

As always, directions for watching the show can be found here, and a list of past shows' games are available here.

And while we're on the subject of sports, Andre Agassi just won his third straight five-set match at the U. S. Open, earning a spot in tomorrow's final. All three matches were impressive in their own right, but Wednesday night's 3-6, 3-6, 6-3, 6-3, 7-6 (6) quarterfinal win against James Blake was especially memorable.

Agassi was in constant trouble in the match: down two sets and a break in the third, then down a break in the fifth, and twice down a mini-break in the fifth set tiebreaker. Yet every time Agassi looked dead in the water, he managed to hold on, and when something good happened, he was ready, willing and able to run with it.

A terrific achievement by the "old" (35-year-old) Agassi, and one that reminds me of a claim (allegedly) made by another AA, Alexander Alekhine: in order to defeat him in his prime, one would have to beat him three times: in the opening, in the middlegame, and in the endgame.

I think there are at least three ways to look at this: one which has no application to us at all, one which does some of the time, and one we can use all of the time.

Interpretation 1: This applies to Alekhine (and Agassi, in his sphere of excellence) alone; we're not Alekhine (or Agassi); therefore, while we can appreciate his greatness, it has nothing whatsoever to do with us.

But this makes it a matter of magic. It's not that the initials AA possess some sort of talismanic power, such that beating them requires some sort of superhuman achievement. (Indeed, Agassi will be a slight underdog tomorrow if he meets Hewitt, and a heavy dog against Federer.) Rather, it's a function of his excellence and fighting qualities, and these we can emulate. And so this leads to

Interpretation 2: Alekhine was so tough to beat because he was the best player in the world. Now, unless Kasparov is reading my blog (which would be nice, but I'm not holding my breath), that won't apply to any of us, but I think we can apply this to cases when we're the higher-rated player. When our opponent isn't a sandbagger or an up-and-coming kid, our higher rating generally signifies an advantage in strength. So even if we get into some trouble, we should remember that there's a reason we have the higher rating, and expect our opponent to give us further chances. Give the weaker opponent some rope, and wait for the self-hanging to begin.

Interpretation 3: Alekhine was so difficult to beat on account of his mental toughness. Some athletes and chessplayers tend to choke under pressure, others tend to come through, and perhaps all of us fall under one or the other category at some point in our careers. As with any aspect of the game, some will be more gifted than others in competitive character; nevertheless, there are steps all of us can take to improve in this area.

One important tip is to remember that your opponent, even if higher-rated than you are, ultimately doesn't measure up to a standard of perfection. That's true of your friend at the club, of me, of IMs and even of superGMs - remember Hydra-Adams? - and finally, even true of the tin can as well. So even if your opponent is less likely, on average, to make mistakes than you are, he or she will make mistakes. It's just about guaranteed! And reminding oneself of this truth has at least two positive effects. First, it's a great way to inoculate yourself against intimidation. Your opponent might be stronger than you are, but he's not infallible. Errare humanum est! Second, it's good to remember this even when you're down. Keep creating problems for your opponent, and unless the position is completely routine, she will err. I've reminded myself of this against my peers and my betters, and this has helped me to fight, to remain confident, and ultimately to win games I shouldn't have. And why not? I know the mistakes will come; I need only create the opportunities and keep my eyes open for when they come.

So emulate the AA's, and force your opponents - no matter their strength - to beat you in the beginning, middle and end of the game in order to win the day. You'll be surprised at how many chances you'll have, and you may also find that your toughness and self-confidence pays off by undermining those qualities in your opponents.

Two down, nine to go.

In response to the Nesis-Buj puzzle offered a few days ago (see here and here), correspondence IM Jonathan O'Connor writes in to share one of his fine efforts also featuring some elegant heavy piece geometry. Click here for the game with his notes, and pay special attention to the variation starting with 23...Rh7. As O'Connor notes, White's last 11 moves in that variation are all on the dark squares, and that in turn reminds me of another game: Karpov-Kasparov, game 4 from their 1985 match. In that game, also available through the link above, Karpov at one point makes no less than 18 consecutive moves onto light squares! Entertaining, and instructive, too - it demonstrates the long-term possibilities available to the side attacking in an opposite-colored bishop situation.

Joshua Gutman writes:

A while back I got really into playing the Evans Gambit. About six months I gave it up full time for 2 reasons: 1) While it's a lot of fun, I don't really trust white's position in all lines and I believe there are equally if not better positions to play that don't require the constant justification for 1 or more sacrificed pawns. However, at some point early in my analysis I was trying to find an improvement over a very interesting position and I found wi