How to Play Chess like a Champion

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How to Play Chess like a Champion Page 10

by Fred Reinfeld


  Hoping for 18...B×d4 when 19.Be4! offers defensive chances. For example, 19...d×e4 20.Q×d4. Or 19...Q×g3+ 20.Bg2. But Black has a staggering reply:

  18...0-0-0!! (D)

  Black’s idea is that after 19.B×c5 he simply plays 19...Rh8 forcing checkmate. Now Mieses knows he’s been had by a very fine player, but he tries a last resource.

  19.Bh7 ...

  A vain attempt to block the terrible h-file.

  19...Rh8 20.Qd3 B×d4 (D)

  Calmly picking up the bishop at a moment when White cannot possibly retake (21.Q×d4? R×h7 and Black forces mate).

  21.Nd2 R×h7 (D)

  Forcing White to give up his queen to stop mate.

  22.Q×h7 Q×h7 23.c3 Bb6 24.Nb3 Bf5 Resigns

  Further resistance is useless, as Black has a queen and bishop for only two rooks. In addition he threatens ...Be4 followed by ...Qh1 mate.

  Offhand Games

  In skittles games, “chess for fun,” the amateur’s prospects against the master are meager indeed. For here the play is on even terms, and the amateur lacks even the opening consolation of receiving odds.

  There is just one thin wedge of hope for him. Since the game is being played for fun, the master may relax his usual vigilance. Or he may seek dubious complications just for the sheer fun of it. Once in a great while this happens, and then the amateur has an opportunity to secure an inspired win. But – and this must be emphasized – such games are rare indeed.

  To illustrate the type of play, I’ve selected what is undoubtedly the finest game in the field – a game won from the Mexican master Carlos Torre. The career of this young master was strange in a number of respects. He played in master tournaments for only two years – when he was 21 and 22 – and then returned to his native village, never to play again.

  This was perhaps the only case in the history of chess in which a first-class master imitated Paul Morphy’s example by retiring voluntarily while at the height of his powers. Torre was a disciple of Capablanca and a great believer in the older man’s doctrine of forceful simplicity. When the present game was played, Torre was no more than sixteen. However, the game cannot be dismissed as a fluke, for Torre was even at that time a player of master strength.

  Adams – Torre Philidor Defense

  1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 d6 3.d4 e×d4 4.Q×d4 Nc6 5.Bb5 Bd7 6.B×c6 B×c6 (D)

  Torre is taking liberties by playing a cramped defense which makes it difficult for him to free his game later on. This often happens in games between masters and amateurs – the master feels that he “can get away with it.” In effect he’s giving the odds of a bad opening. Whether or not he can allow himself this luxury will depend on White’s further play.

  From a theoretical point of view, the master (Black) has made a serious mistake in giving White’s queen so much powerful centralized scope. Black reasons that his opponent doesn’t have the know-how to make use of this formidable position. As a rule this reasoning would be sound. But here we have the exceptional situation where the master is sadly in error.

  7.Nc3 Nf6 8.0-0 Be7 9.Nd5 B×d5 10.e×d5 0-0 11.Bg5 c6 (D)

  Black must try to obtain some freedom for his forces. As a result of his faulty opening, his position is very constricted. Passive defense is the best he can hope for from this point on.

  12.c4 c×d5 13.c×d5 Re8 14.Rfe1 a5

  In order to play ...Ra8-c8 without loosing the a-pawn.

  15.Re2 Rc8 16.Rae1 ... (D)

  White is playing for control of the e-file – with results that will be spectacular.

  16...Qd7 17.B×f6 B×f6 (D)

  Black thinks the worst is over. His imprisoned bishop has been turned into a far-cruising piece with lots of scope. Who could foresee that the bishop’s splendid diagonal will be of no use whatever? If it comes to that, who could foresee that White now proceeds to win by force by one of the finest combinative sequences ever seen in the history of chess?

  18.Qg4!! .... (D)

  The first step of the grand plan. If 18...Q×g4 there follows 19. R×e8+ R×e8 20. R×e8 mate.

  The queen sacrifice sets the theme for the following play. White keeps threatening a checkmate on the last rank by offering his queen. Black must decline the queen of course, but he must do it in such a way that he retains contact with his menaced rook.

  White’s object all sublime is to cut the contact between the black queen and the black rooks.

  18...Qb5 19.Qc4!! .... (D)

  Again White offers the queen, and this time it’s a double offer, even a triple offer. Here are the possibilities: (a) If 19...R×c4 20. R×e8† Q×e8 21. R×e8 mate; (b) If 19...Q×c4 20. R×e8+ R×e8 21. R×e8 mate; (c) Or if 19...R×e2 20. Q×c8+ Qe8 21. Q×e8+ R×e8 22. R×e8 mate.

  Always the same deadly combination of themes—mate on the back rank together with deflection of the black queen from the defense. Black worms his way out of this one and even looks reasonably safe after:

  19...Qd7 (D)

  But White follows up even more fantastically with an even more amazing queen sacrifice:

  20.Qc7!! ... (D)

  The situation is getting curiouser and curiouser. Black can’t play (a) 20...Q×c7 for then White winds up with 21.R×e8+ R×e8 22.R×e8 mate. And if (b) 20...R×c7 21.R×e8+ Q×e8 22.R×e8#. Finally, if (c) 20...R×e2, White replies 21.Q×d7 winning easily with the enormous material advantage of queen for rook.

  20...Qb5 (D)

  Black’s queen runs away. And at the same time Black shows the hand of the master by setting a devilish trap. Suppose White plays 21.Q×b7? hoping for 21...Q×b7? 22.R×e8+ R×e8 23.R×e8 mate. Black turns the tables by answering 21.Q×b7 with 21...Q×e2! Then if 22.R×e2 Black forces checkmate beginning with 22...Rc1+

  In many a game a master has pulled a lost game out of the fire with such last-minute “swindles.” But not here! White is too alert for that. Instead of blundering with 21.Q×b7? he plays a strong and subtle move:

  21.a4!! ... (D)

  White’s queen is still immune from attack. The vicious pawn thrust is played to gain time to bring the white rook from e2 to e4 – a finesse of the most delicate subtlety and one that would do credit to the greatest masters. Just why this is so you will see in a move or two.

  21...Q×a4 (D)

  22.Re4!! ... (D)

  An exquisite tableau. If 22...R×c7 23.R×e8+ forces checkmate. And if 32...Q×e4 23.R×e4 and neither black rook can make a capture.

  22...Qb5 23.Q×b7!! Resigns (D)

  Now that White has played Re4, Black no longer has the resource of ...Q×e2. Another point is that Black cannot run way with ...Qa4 (now that White has his rook on e4). And of course 23...Q×b7 will not do because of 24.R×e8+ R×e8 25.R×e8 mate. Thus Black is left without a move and must resign.

  This is the finest game ever won by an amateur against a master. Undoubtedly the feat will be repeated in time to come, but it’s safe to say that no one will ever improve on it for smooth artistry and pitiless logic.

  Tournament Play

  Offhand we might say that the amateur’s chance of winning a tournament game from the master is just about nil. For tournament play – chess for blood – is the master’s special domain. It is here that all the differences in ability, experience, technique, and concentration tell most heavily.

  The amateur as we know, lacks the concentration and ambition that are required for successful tournament play. And the prospect of playing a tough opponent one round after another is enough to turn our favorite game into a dreary series of stumbles. As for the master, he flourishes on this kind of brutal competition.

  And yet every now and then, maybe twenty times in a century some lucky amateur administers a sharp, stinging defeat to a master. Such games are so rare that they really make history. They deserve to be better known, especially when they are as rich in comic point as the following game.

  The black pieces are played by a cocksure young master. He is phenomenally gifted, so much so that he has very little respect for the amateur he’s facing. So the rather disdainful maste
r decides on an exotic experiment – only to meet with a drastic refutation from the lowly amateur!

  Borochow – Fine Alekhine Defense

  1.e4 Nf6 (D)

  A tricky defense. Black deliberately provokes the advance of White’s pawns. If they run ahead far enough he reasons, they will be stranded at a distance from their supporting forces. Very crafty – but it doesn’t work.

  2.e5 Nd5 3.c4 Nb6 4.d4 ...

  The regulation move is now 4...d6. Black varies, to his regret.

  4...Nc6? (D)

  Incredible as it may seem, Black must lose a pieces by force after his last move. White’s winning move is:

  5.d5!! ...

  Black is left without a good move.

  5...N×e5 6.c5! Nbc4 7.f4 ... (D)

  And Black loses a piece by force. After struggling for a few more moves, Black resigned.

  This is the most remarkable tournament game – certainly the shortest – ever won by an amateur against a first-class master. The chances are slight indeed that such a feat could ever be equaled.

  For a fitting conclusion to this chapter let’s look at the memorable win scored by an amateur against an outstanding modern master, O’Kelly de Galway. (Despite his exotic-sounding name, this noted player is a Belgian and not an Irishman. His remote ancestors came to Belgium from Ireland a long time ago.) (D)

  Willaert – O’Kelly

  Black to move

  In the position of the diagram material is equal, and in other respects there seems to be no outstandingly important characteristic.

  As O’Kelly sees it, the most troublesome factor is the aggressive post of the white knight at f5. Actually this is only part of the story. And if Black had realized the real danger confronting him, he would have played 1...Qc7! To prevent White’s next move.

  1...g6? (D)

  Plausible, altogether too plausible. Unfortunately for him, White has a murderous reply, instead of the anticipated move with the knight. With our legitimate respect for the master, we more or less take it for granted that he will seize on the most important problem in any given position. Yet in this particular case the master has missed the most pressing need of his position.

  2.Qf7!! ... (D)

  A brutal response with a brutal threat. Black cannot play 2...R×f7 as 3.Rd8+ forces mate next move. (White’s threat against the last rank reminds us of the forcing play in the Adams-Torre game, page 101).

  O’Kelly manages to find what looks like the best defense, but it just isn’t good enough.

  2...Ne6 (D)

  Black has defended himself against both threats, and in the event of 3.Q×e6 he can play 3...g×f5. But now White produces the most dazzling stroke of all:

  3.Rd8!! ... (D)

  Beautiful play which squeezes the last ounce of advantage from his mating threats.

  If now 3...N×d8 4.Q×f8 mate or 4.Qg7 mate. Or if 3...R×d8 4.Q×f6+ Kg8 5.Ne7 mate.

  3...Qc1+

  Black gives a spite check or two before resigning.

  4.Kh2 Qf4+ 5.Kh3 Resigns (D)

  There is no defense to White’s threats.

  So there you have it. Amateurs have beaten masters and will continue to do so until the end of time. But it isn’t easy and it doesn’t happen often. And yet such a victory is well worth aiming for – it is the thrill of a lifetime.

  Chapter Seven

  Facets of Master Play

  What It Takes to Be a Master

  The world of master chess is so brutally competitive that the chess masters are quick to develop a hard-boiled attitude. This sometimes takes strange forms, as in the case of Howard Staunton, the British master and Shakespearean critic who was the leading player of the 1840s.

  Staunton was pompous and bombastic, a self-appointed dictator of the chess world. On one occasion a rival published a statement that he had won the majority of his games with Staunton. The next time they met Staunton thundered, “You can’t print that!” His rival stammered feebly that the statement was true. “What’s that got to do with it? Of course it’s true!” Staunton raged. “But you still can’t print it!”

  In the world of tournament chess, alibis are a dime a dozen, but the final score is all that counts. “Let’s look at the record” is more than a mere phrase as far as chess is concerned. Reputation and playing strength are all very well, but what really matters is: what does the final score table show?

  The stark emphasis on results highlights the rise and fall of great names. Brilliant youngsters appear in the arena. They make a favorable impression; they improve; they reach the topmost ranks. As mature masters they are men of world-wide reputation, included in the handful of the world’s best. They taste fame and (some) fortune; they are universally admired (or envied). At the brilliant zenith of their careers they seem immortal, good enough to last forever.

  Then, at first slowly, and later more rapidly, their powers gradually decline. New men begin to spring up, and one day the chess world collectively rubs its eyes to find that a former world champion has imperceptibly turned into a has-been. To the chess fans of an older generation it is nothing short of tragedy to see their idols topple. The younger generation on the other hand, admires the newer crop of masters and looks at the oldsters as a bunch of overrated duffers long past their prime.

  So when we discuss this or that master, we must often specify the period of his career. If we talk about Steinitz, do we mean the brilliant youngster who became world famous because of his brilliant sacrificial play, or do we mean old Steinitz, the lawgiver of order and system, intent on maintaining the balance of position and accumulating microscopic advantages?

  As for Tarrasch, do we mean the teenage youngster who neglected his homework to stare starry-eyed at the grizzled veterans who had played against the great Anderssen? Do we mean the up-and-coming young Tarrasch who won tournament after tournament to become a candidate for world championship honors?

  Do we mean the mature, world famous Tarrasch presenting an appearance of superiority to the world and inwardly quaking as he feels his chess powers gradually diminishing? Or do we mean the old, venerable Tarrasch, now overtaken by a host of younger men who write admiring, respectful articles about him and trounce him mercilessly in the tournament room? So many Tarrasches – and yet they are one and the same man!

  There is still another way we can asses a master’s style and the changes that age brings about. Up to the age of 20 or so the masters are daring, mettlesome, always ready for headlong risks and sacrificing “on spec.”

  In the early 20s they change. They realize that more than one road leads to Rome, and they learn how it is possible to grind down an inferior opponent by the “inevitability of gradualness.” They learn, from distressing experience, that risk-taking does not go hand in hand with winning tournaments. They are taught that you can’t storm the bridges of Parnassus in every game and still win out against first-class rivals. The dullness of everyday living begins to rub off on them as they discover that glamour doesn’t always pay off.

  From 25 to 35 their playing strength rises steadily. 35 is probably the great master’s zenith age. He is at his most alert and energetic, and at the same time experience has enriched and matured his playing style.

  From that point on a slight falling off becomes noticeable. There is a greater tendency to fatigue, to boredom. Inspiration doesn’t come so readily. But experience, practical flair, crafty appraisal of a rival’s weakness – these are priceless assets to the aging player which keep him at or near the top. Then too, the player in the late 30s and early 40s is wise enough to preserve his strength for supreme efforts.

  From 45 on there is a steady decline. There are still individual days when an old master produces a masterpiece. Emanuel Lasker won the great international tournament at New York in 1924 when he was fifty-six. Steinitz played the most beautiful game of his life when he was 59. Alekhine, despite drugs and excessive drinking, was still a dangerous opponent when he died at the age of 53. Blackburne played credibly in the St. Pe
tersburg tournament of 1914 when he was well over 70.

  Still, these are exceptions. The general rule is that chess, despite all popular prejudice to the contrary, is a young man’s game. Old age is a handicap – a crushing handicap. But just for that very reason there is a sentimental pleasure in seeing an old-timer at the very top of his form. For who of us doesn’t like to see Father Time cheated?

  The dazzling game that follows is the most delightful example I know of in which old age trounces youth. When this game was played Burn was 63; Tartakover was 24. You’d never guess it from the way the game went.

  Tartakover – Burn King’s Gambit Declined

  1.e4 e5 2.f4 Bc5 (D)

  A standard opening trap. If White tries 3.f×e5? then 3...Qh4+ cooks his goose.

  3.Nf3 d6 4.f×e5 d×e5 5.c3 Nc6 6.b4? ... (D)

  This move only weakens White’s position without succeeding in driving Black’s c5-bishop off its mighty diagonal

  6...Bb6 7.Bb5 ... (D)

  Now that White has pinned Black’s queen knight he threatens N×e5.

  In his younger days Burn was an extremely careful player who would have heeded this threat, but in his old age he became more enterprising. Consequently he ignores the threat and instead concentrates on development.

 

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