The Chess Mind

After 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.exd5 cxd5 4.c4 Nf6, the usual follow-up is 5.Nc3, when Black has three standard replies:

(A) 5...e6, when White plays 6.Nf3,
(B) 5...g6, when White plays 6.Qb3, and
(C) 5...Nc6, when White can either accede to the pin after 6.Nf3 Bg4, or else play the sharper but less reliable 6.Bg5.

Instead, the Maverick Philosopher has been utilizing the tricky 5.Nf3. It looks like slightly clumsy, welcoming the Black bishop to g4 right away, but his idea is revealed after 5...Bg4 6.c5 Nc6 7.Bb5 e6 8.Qa4 Qc7 9.Ne5 Rc8 10.Bf4, when between the pin on c6, the threat of various discoveries involving the Bf4/Ne5/Qc7, and other, lesser but still significant problems with the Black position, White is winning.

Where did Black go wrong? I've already addressed this to some extent in a post on my previous blog, but as the move order examined there was a bit different than what we find in this game, I'll offer some new comments.

First, on move 5, Black can respond with the three normal anti-5.Nc3 options: 5...e6, 5...Nc6, and 5...g6. Should he do so, I don't see any advantage to be had by 5.Nf3, and there is a possible disadvantage. After 5.Nc3 g6, White's best try for an advantage is 6.cxd5 Bg7 7.Qb3 O-O 8.Be2 Nbd7 9.Bf3 Nb6 10.Nge2, but this variation is obviously impossible once White has placed the knight on f3. After 5.Nf3 g6 6.Nc3 Bg7 7.cxd5 O-O 8.Bc4 Nbd7 9.O-O Nb6 10.Bb3 both 10...Nbxd5 and 10...Nfxd5 have scored very well for Black.

Second, after 5.Nf3 Bg4 6.c5 Nc6 7.Bb5, the confrontational 7...e5 seems to give Black equal chances after 8.dxe5 Ne4 9.b4 Be7 10.O-O O-O 11.Bxc6 bxc6 12.Qd3 a5 13.Nd4 Bd7.

Third, as mentioned in my earlier blog post (linked above), after 7...e6 8.Qa4, the pawn sac 8...Bxf3 9.Bxc6+ bxc6 10.Qxc6+ Nd7 11.gxf3 leaves Black some compensation for the pawn in the form of White's numerous pawn weaknesses and the lack of an obvious refuge for the White king.

In sum, I think 5.Nf3 is objectively inferior to 5.Nc3. However, it doesn't seem that much weaker, and it does come with a nice positional trap, making it a reasonable surprise weapon for the odd game.

The variations above, and a bit more, can be replayed here.

The Tarrasch Defense - 1.d4 d5 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 c5 - is a lively opening option for Black. After the usual 4.cxd5 exd5 5.Nf3 Nc6 6.g3 Nf6 7.Bg2 Be7 8.O-O O-O Black is headed for an isolated d-pawn (generally; sometimes Black plays ...c4), but in return all his pieces reach active squares. White certainly shouldn't avoid this, but sometimes it's nice to play something a little out of the ordinary, to seize the initiative and throw Black on his own resources.

I discovered just such an approach in the recent game Mamedyarov-Boricsev, which continued with 4.cxd5 exd5 5.e4!? dxe4 6.Bc4!? (I was already familiar with 6.d5, which I had seen in a Lapshun-Nadanian game from the 1997 New York Open, but this was new), with the further idea of 6...cxd4 7.Qb3?!!

Is it good? I have my doubts. I think White can equalize with 7.Nxe4, but after 7.Qxb3, reminiscent of my old pet line against the French, Black can probably gain an advantage with imaginative, non-stereotyped play. Of course, that's the objective report. As a practical matter, Black's task is a very difficult one, and in Mamedyarov-Boricsev, Black's attempt to keep the position under control with 6...Nc6 was radically unsuccessful.

Take a look, here.

Bill Vallicella recently mentioned facing 2.Qe2 against his French. I noted that it's not all that bad, though it is fairly rare.

Helpfully, though, there have been a number of recent 2.Qe2 games that have come to my attention. I've already presented one (Zvjaginsev-Morozevich) here, and today I have a couple more for the readers' edification. Interestingly, all three games feature quite different structures; put together, they offer a reasonable overview of the variation.

The first of today's games is Luke McShane-Viktor Korchnoi, from the Magistral Ciutat d'Igualada. The event is a double round-robin with Alexander Beliavsky, Korchnoi, McShane and Volokitin, and at the halfway point, Korchnoi leads with 2/3 (a win over Beliavsky and two draws), Beliavsky (loss to Korchnoi and a win over Volokitin) and McShane (three draws) are next, and Volokitin (loss to Beliavsky) is in last. But back to the game.

Korchnoi utilized the flexible setup I advocated in the earlier post with (ellipses elided) e6, c5, Nc6, Nge7, g6 and Bg7, and if anything got the better game. An inaccuracy forced him to defend, but Mr. Rook Endings was able to save the game. A nice illustration of why, in my opinion, 2.Qe2 isn't that popular - Black's setup is very difficult to even achieve an initiative against, let alone a genuine advantage.

The second game is another matter altogether. Courtesy of Victor Reppert, Arizona expert Alan Anderson sent me a 2.Qe2 game of his from the recently-completed U.S. Open. His opponent played the verboten 2...d5 and quickly landed in a slightly worse but annoyingly cramped position. That's the ad in favor of playing the Chigorin line (2.Qe2), but as virtually all French players know to avoid 2...d5, the variation's "cheapo potential" is strictly limited.

Nevertheless, take a look at the second game, too, as its value is not limited to the immediate aftermath of 2...d5. Many players have a difficult time handling a cramped position, and Anderson's opponent was no exception. Black couldn't bear the need of trying to find useful ways to do nothing, and thus started shoving kingside pawns, hoping to scare up something good by way of an attack.

Instead, it creates holes in the Black camp, gave away key squares and handed Anderson several free tempi to turn is edge into a completely won, dominating position. Remember: pawns can't move backward, so if you're creating a weakness in your camp, be very sure you can cover it with pieces or that you're getting enough by way of counterplay. Neither condition was met in this game, and Black suffered (badly) as a result.

Click here for the games.

In this post, I addressed Bill Vallicella's question about the Chigorin's anti-French variation 1.e4 e6 2.Qe2. In my view, it's an acceptable sideline, although it doesn't promise White an advantage against reasonably accurate Black play, and has the drawback of allowing Black a great deal of flexibility in choosing how to meet it.

Ironically, while I hadn't seen a game with that variation in a long time, Vadim Zvjaginsev essayed it against Alexander Morozevich in their round 6 game from the ongoing Ordix Open. As one would expect from two such creative players, their game left the beaten track in a hurry. I'm both too tired and too busy to analyze it (and even if I wasn't, I'm not sure I'd have a clue as to what was really going on!), but it's worth presenting - have a look.

Bill Vallicella comments, in response to my post If I Want to be a Role Model, I'd Better Change My Openings:

Nice post, Dennis. I beat a kid at the U. S. Open last night who responded to my French defense with 2. Qe2. It got me out of the book, but other than that it leaves something to be desired even with the KIng bishop fianchetto. Any thoughts?

Of course! On the assumption that Bill also wants to know what those thoughts are, I'll continue. First, it's actually an old and relatively common sideline. The variation was invented (or discovered, if you prefer) by late 19th-early 20th century Russian great Mikhail Chigorin, who first employed it in his drawn 1893 St. Petersburg match with Siegbert Tarrasch. The idea is to prevent Black's fundamental French idea of ...d5, as 2...d5 3.exd5 forces 3...Qxd5, leaving Black a rather passive structure. Black can prepare an eventual ...d5 by placing a piece on e7, but the most common continuation for each side runs like this:

1.e4 e6 2.Qe2 c5 3.Nf3 Nc6 4.g3 g6 5.Bg2 Bg7 6.O-O Nge7 7.c3 O-O 8.d3 d6

8...d5 is also possible, but allows White a good King's Indian Attack position after 9.e5. After 8...d6, Black has a very solid, flexible position, and for this reason 2.Qe2 isn't particularly popular.

But is it junk? Is this the sort of opening, or more precisely, an opening exemplifying the sort of win-on-the-cheap attitude I railed against? Probably not. The Chigorin variation doesn't offer White any easy, trappy winning lines. To win, White will have to play a full-blooded game; if anything, the more popular lines give White more opportunities for a quick win than this variation!

But lines like 2.Qe2 have their virtues; I'll offer three. First, they are labor-saving devices. To properly play the main lines of the French requires a reasonably substantial commitment of time and energy, and takes a while even for those willing to spend the time to do it right. Second, the main lines are more likely to be the opponent's "home turf", so even if one spends a good deal of time on the main lines, it still may not negate the depth of the opponent's preparation and understanding. So a related third point is that if the sideline is fundamentally sound and gives you a position you like, then you may achieve a psychological and a practical edge by playing it. (Check out my post What Do All Those Crazy Symbols Really Mean?)

In sum, while I think there are good reasons to study main lines, there is a place in a responsible player's repertoire for variations that, though somewhat off the beaten track, are fundamentally sound.

In response to my post If I Want to be a Role Model, I'd Better Change My Openings, sbb1cpa asks

Do you have any gambits you like? There was an interesting Morra Gambit in the July Chess Life between Lenderman and Mirabile, both over 2200. Is playing gambits a good way to practice tactics and aggressive play, or should a beginner stick to one of the more traditional openings?

I have nothing against gambits per se, just as, to repeat the metaphor in the post, I have nothing against dessert. The problem is with the get-rich-quick mentality that underlies many players' use of gambits.

Of course, gambits can be used "to practice tactics and aggressive play". But gambit play is neither necessary nor sufficient to that end. Many gambits can be safely declined, often with the result that the position becomes rather dull, and quickly. Two examples:

First: 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e5 - hoping for excitement - 3.dxe5 Ng4 4.e3 Nxe5 5.Nh3, when the tactical fun is gone and the struggle revolves around positional elements like White's control over the d5 square.

Second: 1.e4 e5 2.d4 exd4 3.c3 - hoping for the wild times of the Goring or Danish gambits - 3...d5 4.exd5 Qxd5 5.cxd4 Nc6 6.Nf3 Bg4 7.Be2 Bb4+ 8.Nc3 Bxf3 9.Bxf3 Qc4 offers White only equality in the non-scintillating endings that result from 10.Qb3 or 10.Bxc6+ bxc6 11.Qe2+.

Thus playing a gambit is not sufficient to guarantee a crazy, tactical position. But neither is it necessary: main line Sicilians and King's Indians, to take just two prominent openings from the Fischer and Kasparov repertoires, lead to positions far richer and more complex than anything the mid-19th century swashbucklers ever dreamed of.

To recapitulate: I'm not interested in denigrating gambits per se (except the Latvian, I suppose), nor do I wish to endorse any now. Playing gambits can lead to tactically rich positions, but it doesn't guarantee it, and there are plenty of "normal" lines that will achieve the same goal. But the bottom line, and my main point, really, is that the policy of playing trappy, second-rate openings to win quick games represents a self-stultifying attitude that ought to be eschewed, especially by young, developing players.

Four days ago, in my post What Do All Those Crazy Symbols Really Mean?, I took a couple of potshots at what I take to be the worst opening in chess, the Latvian Gambit. Happily, no one wrote in to sing its praises, but as if on cue, one of my occasional students - a bit bored of the Dragon - asked me on Thursday what I thought of the Latvian.

Closer to the sensible side of things (but not much!), another student and an acquaintance from the local club independently asked to be taught the Schliemann - in both cases under the influence of my wins over Winslow and Yudasin. You might think I'd find that flattering and welcome them to the Schliemann club, but I instead did what I could to scare them away, and for two reasons.

The first reason is that although the Schliemann was a pretty reasonable surprise weapon when I took it up in the early 80s, it's now surprising only to those players who haven't joined the computer revolution in chess. White has at least four good approaches and gets to choose the style of play, too. In short, the value of the Schliemann has been sharply reduced, and is completely unsatisfactory as a main line.

But there's a second reason I've tried to scare them off: I don't want them to have the buy-a-video, get-rich-quick attitude typical of a consumer culture in general and many chess players in particular. It's very easy to learn some junk opening, and there are cranks a-plenty peddling their garbage in print, video and on the internet. One will win a few games with it recycling the same stupid trap over and over, learn nothing, get bored, get tired of losing when opponents avoid the trap, and move on to the next rubbish heap. (There's always a new DVD. In my opinion, they should be treated like ads for diets and email spam: shunned or reported to the relevant authorities, but by no means entertained.)

I don't think the Schliemann is quite as bad as the lines I'm railing against, but it's not good, either; certainly not as a primary weapon. I haven't played it that regularly for a long time (in part because I often play worse!), but even so, it's time for me to throw it and some other bits of my opening repertory overboard - if not for my sake, then for my students! Let me be clear, in case I sound like the Grinch. Silly and offbeat lines are fine. They have their place and even some value. So does dessert. But parents who give their kids cake and ice cream in place of real food are doing them a huge disservice, and likewise with the chess teacher who gives his or her kids the trick of the week in place of a real repertory.

And I need to lead by example.

Our installment for this fine morning/late night includes some recent games that caught my eye for their instructional value, rather than for their competitive significance. (Not that the players and their most devoted fans would agree, of course.)

The first game, between Roussel Roozmon and Bluvshtein, shows a nifty defensive idea that conclusively saved Black in a two knights vs. two bishops ending. Generally the knights have a lousy time of it, but Bluvshtein alertly spotted a powerful drawing idea, one we can easily apply if we're paying attention.

Next, Kempinski is in trouble against van Wely in a rook ending, but utilizing an idea going back to the study composer Moravec, he finds an elegant path to the draw. (The Moravec study is presented afterwards.)

Finally, a sharp Chinese Dragon (that's redundant, I know) between Efimenko and Charbonneau reminds us that it's possible to sacrifice too many pieces. Charbonneau seems to unload every stock Dragon sac in the book, only to find that when the payoff comes, there aren't enough Black forces left to celebrate. Nevertheless, his basic attacking idea was correct and his position after the opening appears sound. So Dragon players, take heart!

Click here to replay the games and the Moravec study.

Several moons ago, I presented some of my analysis of the Dragon/Accelerated Dragon hybrid line starting 1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 g6 5.Nc3 Bg7 6.Be3 Nf6 7.Bc4 O-O 8.Bb3 d6 9.f3 Bd7 10.Qd2 Nxd4 11.Bxd4 b5 12.h4 a5 13.h5. (See here and here.)

My conclusion was that after 13...a4 14.Bd5 e5, both 15.Bxa8 (which I had prepared for a match with fellow Indiana master Jason Doss) and especially 15.h6 (as played by Bologan against Moldovan in a French event earlier this year) cause Black serious headaches. Doss varied with 13...e6, but after 14.a4 I had a comfortable edge.

Even if these assessments are correct, Black can explore a third option before giving up this variation - 13...e5. I covered this move in the second blog entry linked above, and my conclusions weren't optimistic on Black's behalf. Nevertheless, that line was tested - maybe "pop quizzed" is more accurate, given the game's brevity - in Karjakin-Tiviakov from Round 2 of the European Team Championships. (By the way, the leading team after round 5 is Israel, whose board 1 is...Gelfand.)

To be honest, I don't know if the speedy draw reflected the opponents' true thoughts about the position, or if its brevity had to do with team strategy. Whatever the story, you can replay the game (with my analysis) here.