I played a chess tournament and made these mistakes
A chess-technical and psychological overview of my mistakes in a futile attempt to improve future results.A few days ago, I happened to find myself in the middle of a chess tournament. A very lovely distraction from all Christmas festivities, to be honest. And I guess I wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines, as fierce competition was present. A handful IM’s, and couple of FM’s and a boatload of other strong players.
As for me, I had a kinda meh-ish performance: beating the IM, but then losing against much weaker players. Some rating points down the drain, but nothing too dramatic. Now it’s time for the aftermath, and I want to take a deeper look at why I made the mistakes I did. Say, one step beyond just identifying errors.
My first reaction after the last game was something like: “I’m a terrible player; why am I so bad at chess?” You know, the traditional stuff that keeps us motivated. But after being in this healthy state for a while, I slightly modified the thoughts towards “I don’t deserve to win if I play like this.”. For some weird reason, this makes me feel much better, even though I honestly admit I don’t understand why this would be any different from the initial statements... Perhaps someone with a psychology degree can explain.
Non-chess related mistakes
I don’t really believe that things outside the chess board influence performance significantly much, but there are some things I could change to have a more pleasant overall experience. So if nothing else, just consider this part as an analysis of life. (Some might say I should focus more on that, as I’m better at chess than at life anyways.)
So, first of all, please don’t eat weird foods next time. I received some internal complaints from the stomach-deparment that dubiously flavored salad I’ve never eaten before was an undesired choice. If anything, take something neutral next time. And if it feels bad, don’t keep eating it... I understand this is common knowledge for the large majority of people, but yeah, I’m pretty stubborn.
Then, before the last round, I also applied the no-sleep-gambit. For those that are unaware, this consists of alternating laying on your back, laying on your side and laying on your front every 15 seconds in a bed in a hotel room. It is strongly recommended to think about the importance of the upcoming game, and that you really need to sleep well. If you feel a sudden urge to sleep around roughly 7:30 o’clock, you have performed it optimally.
Finally, during the first round, I managed to drop a knight into a radiator. Let’s say it’s a sub-optimal location to store a chess piece. Still not sure how it fitted through the tiny gap in the first place, but in the end we were with 5 people trying to get the unfortunate animal out of its dire situation. Unleashing the fury of the tournament directors with these unintentional actions is ill-advised.
Two general comments
Before I start with positions from actual games, here are two common themes I noticed:
(1) Just because all variations you calculate look good, doesn’t mean your positions is good. Sure, only calculating winning lines gives a good feeling, but it can be extremely misleading. Calculation consists typically of forceful lines. The opponent won’t play these if they lose, and then they will play ‘slower moves’, i.e. less forcing. This is then the position to evaluate. Just because your position can withstand the most direct threats, doesn’t mean you won’t die long term. I tend to evaluate obviously bad positions as good, because I see some tricks. In some sense, I focus too much on pure calculation, and not so much on intuition (or common sense...)
(2) When something is too difficult to calculate for me, don’t just assume it’s probably good. Similar to the first statement, I’m often way too optimistic. When something needs masses of calculation, there is probably something that unconsciously bugs me. I think I often try to calculate the non-existing solution to some problem, and then I convince myself to go for it despite being unsure. There is some psychological difficulty here to discard a move that you spend much time thinking on, but it’s the mature thing to do.
Chess related mistakes
In this position I played 11. ...d5? To be fair, I don’t really know that much about the Nimzo-Indian, but I played it anyways. I spotted the backwards d7-pawn and started to worry. If ...d5 works, then it’s good. But it doesn’t. I couldn’t calculate all variations so quickly (this was a rapid game), so I decided to just go for it. Take a gamble, let’s say. I hoped that 12. cxd5 Nxd5 13. Nxd5 Qxd5 would work, but after Rfd1 that’s a recipe for disaster. Therefore, I ended up with an isolated pawn on d5, something I actually wanted to avoid. It’s something worth remembering: I calculated a pretty long time, as if I knew there could be trouble on the horizon, but I played it anyways out of fear. But the cure is much worse than the disease. The black position with the d7-pawn is very slightly worse, but no drastic measures are necessary. The position is pretty flexible, and just normal moves (Rc8 or Be7) are completely fine. Minor issues like a backwards pawn aren’t the end of the world, and I should trust my ability to play with a minor setback. Forcing matters often makes things worse. I would have found the computers suggestion 11. ...Nh5 if I would have been calmer.
I’m quite proud of my calculation in this game here, except that it contained a massive hole... I figured that my position would be good if I could kick the knight from f5 with g4 after 12. e5 Nf5 13. Bf2 cxd4 14. cxd4 Qb6. However, Qxb2 exists and I don’t like spending a move on defense with Qd2. So, first I considered the sacrifice 15. g4 Qxb2 16. gxf5 Qxa1 17. f6, which is very interesting. Then, I found that 16. Ra3! would win, as I have two threats simultaneously. The knight on f5 is hanging and I threaten to trap the queen with 17. Rb3 Qa2 18. Nc3. So, you can understand my happiness after playing 16. Ra3. Only when my opponent literally played 17. ...Qa1 I understood I messed up. Seeing the variation from so far behind made me completely blind for the a1 square, instead of a2. Luckily for me, even on a1 the queen is quite poorly placed, the pawn isn’t that important, and soon I got a winning position. Double checking ‘winning variations’ and queen traps is generally a good idea. If it’s really that winning, you won’t need your time later anyways.
A good example of principles (1) and (2) above. I won a central pawn here with 12. ...dxc4 13. Bxc4 cxd4, and e5 falls later. Admittedly, I knew that my pieces would get pretty entangled (pinned and mutually defending knights), that my development was lacking and that my king stayed in the center for a while. But still... It’s a pawn. I was quite optimistic, because I couldn’t see a direct way for white to profit. And sure, my play was alright, but the optimism is misplaced. f4 is a very dangerous move for white in many situations, and black must play very precisely not to lose material in the long run.
When things had finally stabilized, I played the very imprecise 20. ...Rac8? I completely missed that after 21. Nxd5 exd5 the square f5 is available for a white knight, positionally crushing me. 20. ...Rac8 looked fun, as many tricks with ...Nxd4! work out for me. In retrospect, I should have played 20. ...Rad8. It’s much more consolidating. My position with an extra pawn is good, but it’s not at all time to think about offense. Just make sure the opponent doesn’t have any play first.
My final two games of the tournament were for sure the worst. I made some decisions I just don’t understand, looking back upon it. Then you know it’s bad... For example this position, where I played 11. d4?! I’ve seen circumstances where you pop the knight into e5 and then defend it like this. But here, well... Black just takes on d4, plays the bishop on f5, and it’s hard to understand why white would want this. Perhaps a case of principle (1). I saw that all tries to hop into c2 or d3 with ...Nb4 are harmless for white, and therefore falsely assumed my position was at least fine. Obviously, any normal move for black works, and white is (almost) positionally busted. Here’s the strange thing: if you would ask me which position is better (a) after 11. d4 or (b) after 11. Nxc6, I would for sure answer option (b). But still, here I am, playing d4 in a real game. Perhaps too fixated on something I learned before, and hence not being very flexible with my play.
A little later, after stirring up a mesh on the kingside, my opponent played 19. ...h5?! in a response to my 19. h4. This is a weird move. I played h4 to support g5, mainly because the sacrifice Nxe5 is kind of annoying is some cases, because b2, h2 and g5 are hanging in many lines. I had no intention to attack on the kingside or anything. (Of course, according to principle (1), I calculated that the sacrifice probably wouldn’t work anymore after 19. h4, hence I assumed my position was good.) So after 19. ...h5, I suddenly get a chance to create chaos with 20. gxh6 e.p. Bxh6 21. e4!? Bxc1. I figured that the simpler 22. Rxc1 would force a roughly equal endgame (which is correct), but that 22. exf5?! was interesting. I couldn’t calculate everything, but according to principle (2), that has never stopped me from trying. So after 22. ...Be3+ 23. Kh1 gxf5 the beautiful kingside attack I dreamed of was rather dissatisfying. White has nothing. And to be fair, that’s exactly what I calculated earlier. I just expected something to present itself here, but attackers are too sparse.
The final game was pretty depressing. My opponent start with a Caro-Cann line I didn’t know, and although 13. ...Qb6 isn’t really a big mistake or anything, it is ironic to realize I was scared my king would get stuck in the center after 13. ...Ngf6 14. Nd6+ Ke7 15. Nc4, only to voluntarily go with my king to d6 in a much more dangerous position. The check is harmless here. In fact, it helps black somewhat to get the rook on h8 out quickly.
The real mistake starts at a little later, when I take some poison on b2. I did some massive calculation to support this move, and yes, black doesn’t die immediately, but white has sooo many options for a great position. Sacrificing on f7, sacrificing the knight on d6, taking on b7 with either rook or knight, or even just 0-0. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that some of these many options are just really good for white. A little bit of intuition was needed here, but instead I was arrogant and believed I could calculate myself out of trouble after taking b2. 15. Qe7 was much safer, and I knew that, but I took the bait.
I still got one last chance. I blew it... It’s remarkable though. After 23. Nxd7? I get the chance to play 23. ...Nxd7 and just be a piece up. Well... It’s still scary. But hey, it’s a piece. The weird thing here, is that I was calculating super deep variations all game, but here simply taking back on d7 didn’t really cross my mind. I figured that 24. Qg6 would be constricting for me, so I started to look at alternatives. 23. ...Ng4+ and 23. ...Nd5+ are both highly tactical, as whites king gets onto an open file, f2 is attacked, and possibilities arise. Some lines are winning for black. Most lines aren’t however. These knight checks trouble the waters a little, but simply taking a piece on d7 should be main priority. 24. Qg6 Rhg8 is just stable. And 25. Rxd7+ Kxd7 26. Qf7+ Kd6 27. Qf4+ is not a draw because of 27. ...e5!. But being focussed on attacking the white king, I didn’t even consider the quiet Rhg8 and soon I ended up without an attack, and with a king on d6. It just illustrates that having a clear mind and waterproof calculation is very difficult in practice, but it is vital.
Conclusion
This is the first time I actually study my mistakes so deeply, so I hope this actually helps. It’s very surprising to me how often I consiously choose bad positions over good ones, despite knowing the position is bad. (And yes, it’s easy to say that after the game, but still...) Perhaps others recognize these patterns. I don’t know. My guess is that many people have a better intuition and don’t rely on calculation so much. Perhaps I just like to think I’m special. I’m pretty sure that I won’t make these exact mistakes again, but life has thaught me that I’m very good at discovering new opportunities for fresh mistakes, so we’ll see. Perhaps Stockfish will yell at me next time for not going for a sketchy sacrifice, or for being too stable. If I magically win the next tournament, I will claim this analysis helped. If not, then I’ll just do some good-old rage quiting.