A Rough Outing for Zvjaginsev and his 2.Na3 Anti-Sicilian
His position in the opening was fine, but in the unusual position his opponent, Dmitry Bocharov generated, Vadim Zvjaginsev was impressively outplayed. It is almost always silly to draw big conclusions from single game, so consider the following as a hunch, an impression, but not a "law".
What strikes me about Zvjaginsev's 2.Na3 variation is that its original strength has now become a weakness, and that in this respect it is like any interesting sideline that starts to receive sustained attention. At first the sideline works almost entirely to the benefit of its advocates. Even though the line might have its problems, they're not easily found and even when they are, its advocates have an experience advantage that goes a long way towards neutralizing its theoretical defects. (This was my long-time experience when playing the Schliemann against the Ruy Lopez.)
In time, however, it works the other way: the responses to one's pet line increase, and then the advocate's work load goes up while the opponent, specializing in one particular response, tends to enjoy a psychological and, ironically, an experience edge to boot. (Returning to my Schliemann experience, I faced plenty of main-liners who essayed 4.Nc3 (but even therein variety is possibility), but there were 4.d3 and 4.d4 specialists as well. Though I still held my own, it was clear that the opening was no longer practically effective, so it was time to move on.)
This is what I think is happening with Zvjaginsev's 2.Na3. There are plenty of good responses, and while its primary exponent had the knowledge and experience advantage at first, I think the variety of lines - many leading to radically different sorts of positions - now largely eliminates its value as a practical weapon for Zvjaginsev and others.
We shall see. Meanwhile, here's Zvjaginsev-Bocharev.
What strikes me about Zvjaginsev's 2.Na3 variation is that its original strength has now become a weakness, and that in this respect it is like any interesting sideline that starts to receive sustained attention. At first the sideline works almost entirely to the benefit of its advocates. Even though the line might have its problems, they're not easily found and even when they are, its advocates have an experience advantage that goes a long way towards neutralizing its theoretical defects. (This was my long-time experience when playing the Schliemann against the Ruy Lopez.)
In time, however, it works the other way: the responses to one's pet line increase, and then the advocate's work load goes up while the opponent, specializing in one particular response, tends to enjoy a psychological and, ironically, an experience edge to boot. (Returning to my Schliemann experience, I faced plenty of main-liners who essayed 4.Nc3 (but even therein variety is possibility), but there were 4.d3 and 4.d4 specialists as well. Though I still held my own, it was clear that the opening was no longer practically effective, so it was time to move on.)
This is what I think is happening with Zvjaginsev's 2.Na3. There are plenty of good responses, and while its primary exponent had the knowledge and experience advantage at first, I think the variety of lines - many leading to radically different sorts of positions - now largely eliminates its value as a practical weapon for Zvjaginsev and others.
We shall see. Meanwhile, here's Zvjaginsev-Bocharev.