It’s right there in the French name of the game: échecs. Failures. Except that now, in the Internet era, we just call them “fails.”
So in the CalChess Labor Day Championship I had four epic fails. Loss against Kostya Kavutskiy. loss against Michael Wang, loss against Uyanga Byambaa, and a draw against Bryon Doyle that felt like a loss. After the fourth game I withdrew because my confidence was so wrecked that I couldn’t imagine playing two more games today.
Before the tournament I was actually in a pretty positive frame of mind. I was glad to see several of my compatriots, with whom I had labored in the salt mines of expert-dom, who were also sporting shiny new master ratings. Teemu Virtanen, Ladia Jirasek, Gabriel Bick, Uyanga Byambaa were all 2200 or above. Even though I’m 40 years older than them, I sort of felt as if they were “my peeps,” because we graduated to master together.
It was also really nice to see Jesse Kraai and Daniel Naroditsky again. Even though they are globe-trotters now, those of us who still play our chess in the Bay Area are happy to see them return to their roots. Besides, as Daniel told me, the tournament was only nine minutes away from his home!
I wish I could report more on the tournament itself, but I was so preoccupied with my “fails” that I barely noticed what was going on around me. I did notice that some of the other young players, Rayan Taghizadeh and Vignesh Panchanatham, got off to great starts. They were tied for first at 3-0, and I believe that Rayan’s early results included an upset over GM Kraai. Ah, to be young and carefree, and to have infinite faith in one’s ability!
Here is the one position that sums up my weekend completely. It really boils down to what I just wrote, lack of faith in my ability and my own analysis.
Position after 59. … Kc5. White to move.
FEN: 8/8/1p3R1p/2k5/1rP4P/6P1/3K4/8 w – – 0 60
I was playing White against Bryon Doyle, and I had basically been winning the whole game, or at least since I won a pawn on move 14. At last the end was in sight. I had four minutes left for the rest of the game, and Bryon had about the same amount of time.
This was already, of course, mistake number one. I had no business being in time trouble. I was comfortably ahead the whole game, and priority number one when you are ahead is to snuff out your opponent’s counterplay. Usually we mean counterplay over the board, but the clock is also a form of counterplay. I should have had at least fifteen minutes left at this point.
To make things worse, in this position I used up two minutes calculating the forcing variation 60. Rf5+! Kxc4?! 61. Rf4+ Kc5 62. Rxb4 Kxb4 63. g4! White wins by one tempo, because Black’s king is outside the square of the h-pawn (not the g-pawn). The key line is 63. … Kc5 64. g5 hg 65. h5! and White wins.
The reason I took two minutes on this was that I had to triple-check my calculation, because my brain was so tired and the penalty for miscalculating was so high. Finally, when I was absolutely, 100 percent sure that this was winning for White, I reached out to play the rook move… and changed my mind! Absolutely on the spur of the moment, I told myself, “You’re over-analyzing” and I played 60. Rxh6?? instead. I swear it was as if somebody else took control over my hand.
Of course, Bryon played 60. … Rxc4 and it dawned on me that after 61. Rg6 the win, if I have one, is no longer easy. A flat-out pawn race doesn’t work for White: If 61. … b5 62. h5 b4 63. h6 b3 64. h7 Rc2+ 65. Kd3 Rh2 66. Rg7 b2 67. Rb7 Black draws (see diagram):
Position after 67. Rb7 (analysis). Black to move.
FEN: 8/1R5P/8/2k5/8/3K2P1/1p5r/8 b – – 0 67
Here 67. … Rxh7! draws on the spot. I could torture Black to see if he knows his endgames after 68. Rxb2 Kd5, but I assume that he would know how to hold this.
To be honest, with two minutes on my clock (soon down to one minute) I didn’t get this far in my analysis. I just thought, “Oh my god, how am I going to stop his pawn?” So again I changed my mind at the last moment and played 61. Rf6? Bryon, scarcely believing his good fortune, played 61. … Rg4, I played 62. Rf3 and now the game is definitely drawn because I have condemned my rook to passivity.
Now to be absolutely honest, if I had played 60. Rf5+ and he had retreated with 60. … Kc6, the win is not quite 100 percent obvious. I would play 61. Kc3 Ra4 62. Kb3 Ra1 63. Rf6+ (the point: White is winning the pawn free and clear) 63. … Kc5 64. Rxh6 Rb1+ 65. Kc2 Rb4 (whoops, maybe not so free and clear) 66. Rh5+! (Once again, this cross-check theme saves the day) 66. … Kxc5 (otherwise White would just be two pawns up) 67. Rg5! (diagram)
Position after 67. Rg5! (analysis)
FEN: 8/8/1p6/6R1/1rk4P/6P1/2K5/8 b – – 0 67
Unexpectedly, it turns out that Black has no way to avoid the exchange of rooks! After that, White can win without even thinking. This is really a pretty finish, and it’s the way the game ought to have ended. What happened instead was a travesty of chess.
Thinking about this game on the morning after, I still can’t believe I played 60. Rxh6?? I have to believe that in some alternate universe, I did play 60. Rf5+, and I wonder what’s going on now in that universe. Did alternate-me decide to stay in the tournament? Is alternate-me still playing badly and without confidence, or did the hard-fought win over Bryon Doyle instill alternate-me with renewed vigor?
I’ll never know.
