Luke McShane

I don’t like losing at chess. It feels bad in the moment, whether my position subsides like a failed pudding, or crashes like a severed tree. It feels bad right afterwards too, staring at a big fat zero on the scorecard. But worst of all is the lingering knot of disgust, because usually one’s mistakes are echoes of shortcomings one knew about already, and there is no hiding from them. The chorus from Radiohead’s ‘Just’ (from The Bends) could as well be an anthem for sulking chess players. You do it to yourself, you do And that’s what really hurts Is you do it to yourself Just you, you and no one else You do it to yourself… But last week I lost a game and felt, well, pretty much fine.

The hero pauses, plays the move, and announces ‘Checkmate!’ The villain crumples in shock. It’s a scene played out countless times on screen, but it so often looks ludicrous. In slow games between skilled players, checkmate on the board is much rarer than resignation. Occasionally, when the denouement is brisk and elegant, it will be played out to a finish. But in those cases, volunteering for the guillotine is a sporting gesture from the vanquished party. More often, the final phase of a chess game isn’t much of a spectacle. Extra piece, mop up some pawns, promote a pawn, hunt down the king, yadda yadda yadda. There’s no harm in playing it out, particularly if you think your opponent might stumble into a stalemate.

Since tennis matches are decided in sets, they are sometimes won by the player who has won fewer games. For example, with a 0-6, 6-4, 6-4 scoreline, 12 wins can beat 14. This statistical quirk goes by the name of Simpson’s paradox, and from a sporting point of view it is quite attractive. Even an abysmal start allows for a comeback. I’m not aware of chess matches ever being scored in this way. But when the Champions Chess Tour kicked off in the early months of the pandemic, the scoring system of the knockout stages was an appealing adaptation of that idea. Knockout matches were, in effect, decided over two ‘sets’, with each set lasting for four rapid games, played over one day.

I sat on the plane to the Isle of Man, leafing through a copy of Nigel Short’s new book, Winning. Since I was about to play a chess tournament, you would imagine that Short’s analysis of eight memorable tournament victories contained insights for my own campaign. Strange to say, that thought hardly crossed my mind. I was on my way to the Manx Liberty Masters, a ten-player all-play-all tournament, held in elegant surroundings in the town hall of the capital, Douglas. Dietmar Kolbus, who also captains the Manx Liberty team in the Four Nations Chess League, took on the demanding dual role of being a player and organiser.

Last year’s Netflix mini-series The Queen’s Gambit hit all the right notes. For the neophytes, it was quirky and intriguing. For those already smitten with the game, it was a rare joy to see that chess-wise, they mostly got the details right. Mostly. One awkward exception was the portrayal of Nona Gaprindashvili, the contemporary women’s World Champion, who held the title from 1962 to 1978. Now 80, she is suing Netflix, claiming false light invasion of privacy and defamation and seeking damages of ‘at least $5 million’. The point of controversy occurs in the final episode, when the heroine Beth Harmon is playing at an elite tournament in Moscow. The commentator intones: ‘The only unusual thing about her, really, is her sex.

I suspect many players perceive the chess board in rich contrast, like a heat map. Glowing bright red are those pieces which are attacked but not defended. A gentler shade applies to pieces which are vulnerable to attack in future, or squares that are ripe for occupation. In the diagram below, the intrusion 10 Nd5-e7+ is tempting, to win rook for knight. But Wesley So’s stunning move 10 Nf6+ showed an exquisite sense for the soft spots in Black’s position. The key point is that after 10…gxf6 11 Qh6, Black’s awkward clump of pieces have almost no way to influence the f6-square, so Qh6-f6 and Be1-c3 is very hard to meet. It is remarkable that the attack is viable even when White’s supporting pieces have yet to leave the barracks.

At the beginning of August, seeing his outstanding performance at the Fide World Cup in Sochi, I wrote that Ravi Haria ‘must now sense that the grandmaster title is well within reach’. But who could expect that he would achieve two more grandmaster ‘norms’ before the month was out? Haria, 22, now has all three norms (tournament results at grandmaster standard) he needs, and requires just a small boost to his international rating before he is awarded the title. Over-the-board chess has sprung back to life this summer, and Haria is one of many players making up for lost time.

A popular conceit among chess authors, particularly dead ones, is to describe a fine game as the execution of a multi-stage plan. In fact, a close inspection often reveals that the plan could only have been mapped out in hindsight, and the loser’s fate was entirely avoidable. Grand plans are overrated, but modest plans are indispensable. I like to wonder, what would I do with two or three moves? If I could place this piece anywhere on the board, where would it go? What would a prettier version of my position look like? Most of these ideas should be pruned ruthlessly, as they won’t survive contact with the enemy. But when you hit upon something the opponent can’t comfortably prevent, that’s a plan!

Black to play. Geller–Sveshnikov, USSR Ch 1978. Geller’s last move, 34 Rb1-e1 looked clever, since Black cannot safely capture the queen. But Sveshnikov’s next move exposed a critical flaw in Geller’s idea. What did he play? Answers should be emailed to chess@spectator.co.uk by Monday 30 July. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address. Last week’s solution 1 Rh1 Qe8 2 Ke1 Qa8 3 Kf1 Qa6+ 4 Kg1 and Black cannot progress, since 4…Qc4 is stalemate.