In the 13/09/2005 Guardian, Nigel Short is starting an experiment to see whether he can improve a journalists chess game into something half-decent.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1568517,00.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1568542,00.html
It's a weekly feature. It should be interesting to see what happens. I'll also be keen to see what I can learn from this, and how I can put this into my own games.
Originally posted by DOlivier2004jinx you owe me a coke
In the 13/09/2005 Guardian, Nigel Short is starting an experiment to see whether he can improve a journalists chess game into something half-decent.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1568517,00.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1568542,00.html
It's a weekly feature. It should be interesting to see what happens. I'll also be keen to see what I can learn from this, and how I can put this into my own games.
Originally posted by SicilianNajdorfThe dog is not so good. I've beaten it 3 out of 5 games.
I'm not really sure , all I know that it's a dog related to Bobby Fsicher , anyway , how can a dog ever learn to play chess , if so , how could it play dramaticlly well , than an international english GM ?
The rookie: Chess lessons from a Grandmaster
Stephen Moss and Nigel Short
Tuesday September 13, 2005
The Guardian
My first game against N Short goes surprisingly well. By move 20, I am in a dominant position, a rook to the good. Short's position is hopeless. But then Nicholas Short is only six and a half, so I probably shouldn't crow too much.
The following morning, I face his father: Nigel, the best British chess player of the 20th century, who has agreed to act as my tutor in an attempt to turn me from a deeply (or, rather, superficially) average club player into... who knows? A decent player, perhaps. Nigel's British Chess Federation rating is a whopping 265; mine (this is a guess, since I've never had an official rating) is about 110. The gulf is cavernous: I am facing Brett Lee. Without a box. But we will play two games, to enable Dr Short to make his chess diagnosis.
We sit in the bedroom of his house in southern Greece: it is hot and he is not wearing a shirt - in clear breach, as he admits, of international chess rules. This doesn't disturb me too much, but his opening - the aggressive King's gambit - does. I am also disconcerted by his air of seeing everything at least half a dozen moves ahead, of being in complete control.
The moves of that historic first game are given below. Bear with us: these odd abbreviations do mean something - they are the coordinates of the chessboard - and newcomers will soon get the hang of them. An exclamation mark after a move means it's a good move; a question mark means it's dodgy; two question marks means it's an out-and-out blunder; three question marks means Nigel's given up and I'm on the bus back to Athens.
N Short v S Moss, Greece, 2005
1 e4 e5. 2 f4 d6. 3 Bc4 Nf6. 4 Nc3 Be7. 5 d3 Nc6. 6 Nf3 0-0. 7 f5 h6? (Na5 essential here). 8 g4 Nxg4. 9 Rg1 Bh4+. 10 Kf1 Nf2. 11 Qe1? Nh3. 12 Nxh4 Nxg1. 13 Qg3 g5? 14 fxg6 Qf6+. 15 Kxg1 Kh8. 16 Bxh6 Rg8. 17 Rf1 Rxg6. 18 Rxf6 Rxg3+. 19 hxg3 1-0.
So, a pretty conclusive defeat for me, of course. I resigned in a hopeless position before even the 20th move - in chess literature, this would be known as a miniature, appropriate to my talent. But I at least made a point of hanging on long enough to take the white queen. A moral victory? No, probably not. Next week, Dr Short will explain where I went wrong.
The rookie
Lessons from a Grandmaster
Stephen Moss
Tuesday September 20, 2005
The Guardian
Last week, Nigel Short and I played the first game in a tutor-pupil, guru-acolyte relationship designed to turn me into a very good player. These were the moves of that historic first encounter.
N Short v S Moss (game 1)
1. e4 e5 2. f4 d6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Be7 5. d3 Nc6 6. Nf3 0-0 7. f5 h6 8. g4 Nxg4 9. Rg1 Bh4+ 10. Kf1 Nf2 11. Qe1? Nh3 12. Nxh4 Nxg1 13. Qg3 g5? 14. fxg6 Qf6+ 15. Kxg1 Kh8 16. Bxh6 Rg8 17. Rf1 Rxg6 18. Rxf6 Rxg3+ 19. hxg3 1-0
I asked Dr Short what he thought about my play - be honest but not brutal, I suggested. "You understand some general principles," he said kindly (?!). "But when you were developing your pieces in what seemed a natural way, you didn't realise that your position was already becoming critical. I liked the fact that you were not afraid of my reputation and you grabbed the very hot g pawn." Reader, I swelled with pride as he said that. "But actually the pawn wasn't just hot," he added, "it was suicidal." Sudden deflation.
The worrying aspect of this game was that I felt my attack on Short's kingside had possibilities. In fact, it was a dead end. Taking the "hot" pawn appeared to give me counter-play, but in fact gave me nothing. "You backed yourself - that was good," he said encouragingly. "If you don't see the refutation, take it on. Don't think, 'He's a strong player, there must be something there.' "
The real problem was that I was following my instincts: his king looked exposed, but he had calculated there were no problems with it at all. After 19. hxg3
Lesson one: don't trust appearances; calculate. My blunder on move 13 just quickened my death: I was looking for counterplay but had forgotten that the f pawn was pinned by the bishop on c4. Short pointed out that I could have removed the troublesome cleric at various points in the game, simply by attacking it with my knight. I'd considered that, but never bothered to do it. Stupid.
Dr Short said I had played the opening too passively, giving him too much space in which to build his overwhelming attack. In the post-match analysis, he said that by move 12, "It's panic stations, there is something coming, there is a big attack coming on the kingside." I had been feeling I had a rather satisfactory position at that point. There is much to work on here. We will play a second game, this time with me as white (a significant advantage in high-level chess). If you can suppress your excitement, we will give the moves of game two next week.