How the game of chess is played is largely influenced by a player's reasons for playing it. There are two basic approaches to the game that may be adopted; playing to win, or chess played merely for interest's sake, for the fun and adventure of it. These two possible motives for playing chess may lead to completely different styles of play and can have a major effect on the types of positions that tend to develop.
If your only concern is winning, especially when some prize is at stake, then it hardly matters to you how this is accomplished. Just so long as you win, that's all that counts, right? Well, winning is featured in other games too, you know. If all you care about is winning, one wonders why you don't find yourself an easier game to play. Chess is much too difficult for you. You're just not qualified, okay?
When playing chess for fun on the other hand, you may prefer the sport of a long and difficult struggle to a quick and easy kill. In that case you may be in no hurry at all to win as that would only spell the end of the game, and also the fun of playing it. With nothing at stake but pride winning becomes relatively meaningless, but it's still fun to play because chess is such a fascinating game. Of course winning is still the object of the game and so naturally you still play to win even when playing for fun. The difference is that the results don't really matter to you. And that fact enables you to remain cool and objective, and to play chess as it should be played--on a purely intellectual level, with no emotional involvement to cloud your judgment.
The single most important step to becoming a successful professional chess player is to be able to take that sense of cool detachment and apply it to serious competition. Which is far more easily said than done, because the moment you begin to care too much about results you start to lose your cool and often end up losing the game too as all your hard-won playing skill flies right out the window. Leaving you to endure the heckling of onlookers and the smug condescension of your opponent, and to wonder if you ever really had any clue what the heck you were doing or why you even bother to waste your time on this stupid game. It can be a real heart-breaking emotional roller coaster ride that just doesn't ever seem to want to stop and let you get off. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that.
Which is why I'm inclined to agree with Paul Morphy that chess should never be taken too seriously and stick to playing it strictly for fun, at an amateur level. On street corners, in chess clubs, at home with friends, or on the internet. Amateurs have all the fun. Chess is the most fun in the beginning, when you're first learning it. Then every new move seems like a novelty. When in doubt, try it out! See how it turns out. What have you got to lose? Only the game. Big deal! Why not learn the hard way, through trial and error? I like to struggle with weak openings. Half the fun of chess is getting into trouble, and then trying to get out of it again. Bungle in the jungle. It's fun! Just so long as you're not playing against some jerk who likes to gloat over you, and rub it in when you're losing.
The first and most important thing to learn about chess, but always the toughest to remember, is how to be a good sport at all times, whether winning or losing. Losing is simply an occupational hazard. Comes with the territory. So just bite the bullet, chew it, and then swallow it. Try not to make a big embarrassing spectacle out of yourself. After all, remember, it's only a game. Just a stupid, rotten, lousy stinking game. Bloody blue blistering barnacles and ten thousand thundering typhoons! %$¢£&@€*#¿?!!! Dagnab it all. So just forget about it, okay? Don't worry, you'll do better next time. Maybe. One can always hope, right? If not, who cares? As long as you keep on trying, that's the main thing. You can never be written off as a complete loser so long as you never give up trying. A real chess player relishes a challenge, and doesn't shirk it. No matter how tough. The tougher the better. And besides, it is still possible to win in spite of making the odd mistake now and then. Especially if you can induce an opponent to follow your bad example and do likewise. As my Dad was fond of saying, the winner is he who makes the second last mistake. He also once said that winning is perfectly simple. What's the big deal? All you have to do is make all the right moves. No problem!
Chess is good practice for real life as well; especially when played without takebacks. If you cross the street without first looking both ways and get run over, you can't take it back. Unlike poker, in chess everything is right out in the open there on the board for all to see. If you only take the trouble to look. So there's no excuse for missing anything, except for being too lazy to look. If your opponent has a strong move at his disposal you should expect him to play it, so why allow yourself to be unpleasantly surprised by it just because you're too lazy to see it yourself? Chess teaches circumspection and the careful weighing of consequences before acting. Which is also a handy habit to have for making your way through life. In addition, chess serves as an excellent model for addressing the profound philosophical questions of destiny and free will. At the outset of the game you enjoy complete freedom of choice for charting the whole future course that the game will take. Thereafter, the position you find yourself in at each step in the game is a direct consequence of the choices made previously. So once any moves have been made in a chess game, each subsequent choice is conditioned by the previous ones. Just as in life. But at least chess is only a game, so unless you happen to be playing for high stakes then the results are of no great importance and you can just relax and enjoy making whatever choices you feel like making without having to worry too much about the consequences. Which can make chess a pleasant if fleeting form of escape from the worries of everyday life as well. It is also a good way to meet new friends who share a common interest, and always furnishes you with something fun to do together.
Of course chess is more fun when you're winning, or at least when you're not losing. But the only thing that really keeps it interesting is finding ever new and different ways of accomplishing these objectives. For example, while you may never tire of springing the same old traps on new opponents, in this case the onus is on them to vary their play in an effort to find an adequate defense. But on the other hand if playing against a computer chess program that never varies its play, once you find one way to defeat it you can win the same way every time. It would then seem rather pointless to beat it the exact same way over and over again. Kind of like watching the same tired old television reruns ad infinitum. So it becomes clear then that unless you are playing for some sort of stakes and winning is your main concern, variety is the spice of chess as well as life and is the only thing that keeps it from becoming as dreadfully pointless and boring as, say, tic tac toe. Fortunately for us (or unfortunately, depending on how you choose to look at it), chess is possessed of a virtually inexhaustible richness of variety.
The Chess Opening Move Table on page 1 represents a vast ocean of possibilities which is really quite fathomless. Everything at the outset of the game can be regarded as playable; even the weakest of opening moves may be essayed successfully if followed up with resourceful strategy and consummate skill. If you want to be a thoroughgoing perfectionist of a chess player, you should realize that every new position in a game presents a limited number of possible moves which can be similarly sorted in order of strength from strongest to weakest. Just like I've done for the first move here. But you don't necessarily always have to pick the move at the top of the list. To the true lover of the game who's like a kid in a candy store, all possible moves seem equally interesting and worthy of consideration. The purpose of this book is to help you learn to play more interesting chess. I believe you will find that in chess, just as in life, if you take a keener interest in it then you will get more enjoyment out of it; and also enhance the enjoyment of it for everyone you encounter. So try to expand your chess horizons. Take a walk on the wild side!
Chess is a game of decision making. In many positions our options are rather limited, and indeed frequently there may only be one plausible move (such as a recapture for instance). But usually there is a wide range of possibilities worth considering, especially early in the game. How does your decision-making thought process work? It's important to scrutinize it, especially if you want to reprogram your mind to adopt a whole new approach to the game of chess and radically alter your playing style. Only in order to become a more interesting chess player, mind you, and not necessarily a better one; although I am confident you will discover that to be a natural side effect.
The seasoned chess veteran, in a serious game with ample reflection time at their disposal, having of course first taken their opponent's likely intentions into account, generally will approach each new position by briefly considering all possible options. They will then quickly narrow the range of likely looking choices down to a few "Candidate Moves," which their intuition gained from long playing experience suggests to them are probably the strongest; this opinion being based on the particular ramifications of the present position as well as practice with similar positions in the past. These they will then proceed to examine in somewhat greater depth before finally settling on that which they objectively consider to be the very best possible move. However, rather than doggedly insisting on always trying to find the best possible move in each and every situation, I advocate simply looking for the moves most likely to lead to an interesting game according to your own personal taste. Just play whichever move you most feel like playing, or feel most comfortable with. But of course it must be based on practical reality and the objective requirements of the position if you don't expect it to lead to a dismal debacle. As these kinds of moves will tend to be more unexpected than the strongest possible moves which your opponent ought to be anticipating, they should therefore often prove to be somewhat more mystifying and maybe help to keep him off balance and also to keep the element of surprise on your side, thus causing him to consume more reflection time and possibly thereby prove to be more effective than the better and more obvious moves. At any rate that is one good rationale for making half-baked second rate moves.
The unorthodox chess player keeps an open mind about every possibility, delves into them all thoroughly out of sheer love of the game, is a fine sport at all times, always has good reasons for making bad moves, is dangerous when cornered (even more so when not), and is a most formidable and unpredictable adversary. He considers everything and is not afraid to try anything since while he loves chess he doesn't worry all too much about winning. He's not reckless, just fearless and fun-loving. Famous historical examples of unorthodox players are Bird, Steinitz, Nimzovitch, and to some extent, Lasker. A good understanding of the principles of positional play as expounded by Nimzovitch in his classic work My System is essential in order to develop the insight needed to properly conduct the kind of ultra defensive opening strategies outlined in Chapter 2 of this book. And it helps to think like Steinitz if you expect to be able to pull off the kinds of daring psychological ploys presented in Chapter 3 and live to brag about it. Henry Bird was a pioneer of eccentric and offbeat opening strategy and also a sterling example of good sportsmanship. And Emanuel Lasker was an accomplished master of psychological chess--familiarizing oneself with the temperament of a particular opponent and conducting one's play accordingly. Preying upon their fears or weaknesses, for example by trying to steer the game into the kinds of positions in which an opponent may feel least comfortable. It was Lasker who observed that: "The threat is stronger than the execution." And he proved it, too! In a well known anecdote he once unnerved a non-smoking adversary just by "threatening" to light a cigar.
There are 20 possible first moves for White, times 20 possible first moves for Black, making for a total of 400 possible opening moves and replies. As compared to only 49 for the game of checkers, which has 7 x 7 possible opening moves for the first and second player respectively. Virtually all opening chess moves are playable, provided they are followed up with appropriate and tenable strategy. In fact I once suggested that they ought to use 2-move restriction ballots in chess for some tournaments, just as they do in checkers, in order to compel players to explore the full spectrum of opening possibilities and also to prevent them from relying too heavily on opening book knowledge, thus putting more emphasis on crossboard ability. (Which just happens to be my particular forte.)
How much you want to explore the sea of possibilities in the chess openings all depends on your goals as a player. If you play important games for high stakes and want to be as certain as possible of victory, then you will undoubtedly want to develop a specialized repertoire of strong openings best suited to your own particular playing style. A good opening repertoire can make all the difference in the playing strength of a chess player. For while the study of endgames and the middlegame is also important, generally speaking between experienced players of relatively equal skill an advantage gained in the opening is usually decisive. On the other hand if playing on more casual levels where the goal is simply to pass the time and have fun, a player should always feel free to experiment with new ideas and to explore new and different possibilities. Over the years I have built up an opening repertoire of preferred book openings incorporating powerful novelties and favored strategies, which generally work pretty well for me, and almost invariably yield a good position out of the opening. (Although I may bungle it later in the game). But a vast ocean of uncharted possibilities awaits when you enter the realm of unorthodox defensive and passive-aggressive opening strategy.
Playing aggressively, although the most popular and commonly adopted approach to chess, is merely a matter of taste or personal preference. But it is only one possible choice. One may choose to play defensive opening systems instead, or alternately try both approaches. The most versatile approach to the opening, however, is that of passive aggression. You start off by playing extremely cautiously and conservatively so as to offer no advantages or tactical opportunities to your opponent, while being always on the alert for opportunities to take advantage of any mistakes or oversights on his part. This strategy has many virtues. For starters it gets you out of the books early in the game, with a sound position. It is also extremely flexible; you can open with any number of different move combinations to baffle the opposition and still steer the game back into your pet defensive system. Plenty of scope to try out new ideas. You never know what sort of opportunities might turn up in odd openings. And of course when the opportune moment arrives, then you switch over to the attack!
Your opponent has two ways to go. He can try to refute your unorthodox opening strategy outright by attacking immediately and attempting to win by force (which inevitably leads to his downfall when met with appropriate countermeasures), or else he can adopt a somewhat less aggressive and perhaps equally cautious stance, in which case the game can develop into a really long drawn out and interesting form of trench warfare. In the latter case the psychology of trying to provoke your opponent into unwarranted aggression comes into play. You purposely play strange looking and dubious moves merely to disguise your intentions, while hoping to induce your opponent into declaring his intentions and committing himself to a more aggressive course of action, or else to make him wonder if you know what you're doing while you're trying to figure out if he knows what he's doing. If you open the game by deliberately playing odd or inferior looking moves, you may lead an unwary opponent to jump to the hasty conclusion that you must be an inept player; which feeling he finds it difficult to shrug off, even as you continue by following up with consistently strong and brilliant moves! It's a real confidence shaker for a player when they get crushed by some bungling half-wit that they were expecting to defeat easily.
So, in the first chapter we'll start off with some sample games and analyses of mainstream chess openings in which I'll present my favorite lines and pet variations, including valuable improvements and novelties, which can be reasonably well relied upon to yield satisfactory results if not mishandled. For those of you who mean business, and are out for blood. Then in the following chapter we'll go on to explore the purely passive-aggressive approach to the opening (commonly referred to as the "Hedgehog" or "Hippopotamus" opening system, though it certainly deserves a more colorful title), which is more or less well known if not widely practiced, and which I can highly recommend as a particular field of specialty. Finally, in Chapter 3 we'll stretch the limits of eccentricity by exploring the realm of mutually defensive opening strategy as well as devious psychological & provocational ploys. How and when to try them out is entirely up to you, but you'll never run short of surprises to spring on unsuspecting opponents. For real pipe-smokin' beard-strokin' games between good old friends in their comfy chairs by cozy log cabin firesides on lazy winter evenings. Now that's chess as it should be played! Just like in the movies.
Whatever your choices in the chess openings may be, on page 1 of this book I have supplied you with a handy table of opening moves to help you chart your course on the heretofore trackless and completely uncharted sea of possibilities. So call me a pioneer of sorts; boldly daring to go where none have yet ventured! I'm here to insure that the possibilities in chess will never be exhausted. The room for innovation is virtually limitless! Checker champion Tom Wiswell gave a similar crosstable for the checker openings in one of his books, but this is the first and only one of its kind that has ever been offered in a chess book. It is the result of 10 years of intensive research and comparative analysis by the top experts available, and is an invaluable reference guide for navigating on the wide wooden ocean. I sure hope you appreciate it. All of White's possible opening moves are given in descending order of preference in the vertical column on the left, followed by all of Black's possible replies to each White opening move listed horizontally from left to right--likewise given in descending order of preference from strongest to weakest. So the relative strength of any possible first move for either color is readily assessed at a glance by its relative position on the chart. And if you think it was a piece of cake trying to accurately sort it all out like this, well, you're most welcome to go ahead and try to do better. Be my guest! I'd just love to see you try. Seriously. It was a tough job, but somebody had to make the attempt at least. And seeing as how nobody else volunteered, well, I guess that left it up to yours truly. Hey, that's okay, don't mention it. No thanks necessary. Consider it a labor of love. Or a complete waste of time, if that's the way you choose to look at it. You thankless ingrate you!
Spectators are the only ones who are really able to entertain a completely objective and unbiased perspective of a chess game. A chess player who is personally involved in a game is naturally subjective, and is always inclined to root for the side on which they are playing. Therefore all the sample games given in the following chapters are presented from the player's perspective and are separated into two sections; one each for White and Black. So, while the same opening may be gone over repeatedly in some cases, in each case we are siding with a particular color and are only concerned with the strategy for that side. We won't bother being too critical or judgmental about mistakes made by the opposing side, as these are only sample games, after all; given to exemplify opening strategy and the way it ought to work out under ideal circumstances, when all goes according to plan. Or at least to provide a good working knowledge of the general ideas involved.
Errors and oversights of varying degrees on the part of an opponent are par for the course and are only to be expected; and indeed counted upon, or at least hoped for. For while we may desire a worthy challenge and hope that an opponent will give us a good run for our money, and while it may be true that the hotter the battle is the sweeter the victory, nevertheless we really ought in all honesty to rejoice at an opponent's lapses no matter how grievous, for without mistakes there can be no victory. Every lost game can be attributed to a mistake at some point. Make no mistakes, and one should never lose. And that's the bottom line.
Therefore even playing to win before a mistake has been made to justify the attempt can itself be classified as a mistake, since such an effort is overoptimistic and unwarranted. As former world champion Wilhelm Steinitz observed, a player should not undertake the attempt to attack and win by force unless and until he can first prove to himself that he holds an advantage. Otherwise the launching of a premature and unwarranted attack could only be rationalized on the premise of underestimating one's opponent, and counting on them to fail to defend their position adequately. Which is decidedly unsound policy. One should never underestimate an opponent, but rather always expect them to find the best moves. That way you'll always be prepared when they do, but may still be pleasantly surprised if they don't.
Since trying to win the game by playing aggressively and attacking before some error has been committed by an opponent to justify the attempt is in itself a mistake and should fail against proper defense, provocative psychological opening ploys aimed simply at goading an opponent into premature and unwarranted aggression therefore may be regarded as a viable form of winning strategy. A classic example is Alekhine's Defense. It thus behooves us to determine exactly where the lines are drawn, and just how much nonsense we can get away with when it comes to pushing our luck by going out on a limb or sticking our neck out to bait an opponent into attacking, without going too far. Kind of like playing chess as a bullfighter might. You wave a red cape to provoke him to charge, and the closer you let the horns graze you the more the crowd goes wild. Of course one false move and you can wind up getting horribly gored and trampled. The games of Steinitz's later career often featured classic examples of this sort of strategy, which went rather drastically against the grain in his day and naturally invited a lot of harsh criticism. New ideas have a way of doing that. In those days the chess world was entirely preoccupied with romantic notions of dramatic derring-do, spectacular fireworks, dazzling combinations and swashbuckling attacks. Spectators craved action back then. Unlike nowadays. If a game was brilliant enough they sometimes showered the board with gold pieces!
So how far do you dare to go, and how far is too far? Where is the point of no return? It is useful to know these things. An interesting exercise along these lines, designed to test the limits of your defensive abilities, is to hand a hefty head start in development to your opponent in the opening. This is accomplished simply by shuffling your Knights back and forth a few times. Move either of your Knights out (to a square safe from capture), and then back to its original square. Magnanimously allowing your opponent to gain a big lead in development, say a half dozen moves or so, and perhaps waiting until he steps across the center line to the 5th rank or else conjures up an actual threat against your position before making any attempt to defend or fight back. Just a novel means of deliberately saddling yourself with a rather challenging handicap in the opening, to stretch your defensive capabilities to the very limit. If you can overcome it and still go on to win the game then it ought to make quite a lasting impression on your opponent; more so the larger the advantage in development that you allowed him to start with. It is possible to give an opponent a head start of 10 or more moves in some cases, and still emerge triumphant!
But the most insidious and morale destroying psychological ploy of all time is the infamous Norwegian Gambit. It is only on extremely rare occasions that one ever gets the opportunity to use it. The opportunity only arises when, after getting crushed by you with monotonous regularity, some hapless adversary becomes so sadly demoralized that they finally arrive at the healthy conclusion that you're just too good for them and resign a game prematurely, while there are still some fighting chances left in their position. That's when you turn the board around and proceed to beat them again, from the position they just surrendered in! I knew a guy who once pulled off this stunt TWICE in one game!! I wouldn't recommend trying it out on anyone you ever expect to play again. It could well be more than their poor dignity can take.
On the other hand, inviting an opponent to seize a huge lead in development could also be regarded as simply another psychological ploy aimed at goading him into a frenzy of reckless over-aggression. With a big advantage in development he should be expecting to win easily, which might inspire him to try a little too hard. Of course this is also a good way to learn the vital skill of defending with the greatest care and precision, and how to overcome an opponent's big lead in development. Plus it is an excellent exercise for getting accustomed to thinking along unorthodox lines; namely, how to flout conventional opening principles and get away with it.
Playing checkers is also good practice for understanding the power of noncommittalness as it applies to chess. "He who disturbs his position the least, disturbs his opponent the most" is an old checker maxim. In the game of checkers you are forced to advance, as your men may only move forwards, and not backwards or sideways--at least, not until they succeed in breaking through the enemy ranks and reaching the end of the board. The more compact you can keep your formation, the intrinsically stronger it is. Well, this same principle can also be applied in chess, where you can move backwards and sideways with your pieces, and so are not obliged to advance. However, most players do advance with reckless abandon, due perhaps to the impatience of youth or the sheer primal urge to make swift progress toward winning the game. (Fools rush in....) Which tendency can be easily exploited by the more mature, sophisticated, discerning, cultured and civilized modern homo sapien chess player who has learned to control his immature emotional problems, primitive killer instinct and primordial murderous urges and has really come a long way baby and evolved one whole hell of a lot since prehistoric times. (Yeah, right. Sure! Like fun you have.) Provided, that is, that you can avoid justifying an opponent's over-ambitious endeavors by weakening your position through a careless mistake of some kind. (Like pushing the wrong Pawn.) It is clear from a reference at the top of page 370 in his book My System that Aaron Nimzovitch played checkers, and there is no doubt in my mind that it must have had a major influence on the development of his revolutionary principles of position play in chess.
So play hard, have fun, and enjoy reveling in your newfound eccentricity! Causing eyebrows to raise in surprise, brows to furrow in baffled bewilderment and puzzled perplexity, heads to turn and do double-takes and then shake sadly in mute dismay, jaws to drop in sheer dumbfounded disbelief and then go slack as mouths hang open and eyes bug out in utter amazement and flabbergasted stupefaction, and opponents to turn white as a sheet and sit bolt upright in their chairs as if thunderstruck and then slump over with drooping shoulders in stunned silence while the tension in the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife and beads of sweat pop out of their foreheads and trickle down the long hang dawg expressions on their anxiety ridden faces. (All that from a chess move.) And then treat yourself to a good smirk while they fumble comically for their lost cool by letting out nervous guffaws of bogus half-hearted relief as they feebly try to kid themselves that hopefully, just maybe perhaps, the situation isn't quite as bad after all as they imagined at first glance. At least, not yet... but with their confidence so badly rattled, what chance have they got? (Insert maniacal laughter here.)
Welcome to the ranks of the inscrutable!