Sunday, June 24, 2007

One Step Forward, One Step Back

Looking over games from the months just before I took my break from chess, it is amazing to see how little I learned from my own experience at times. Having made the leap from 1600 to 1800 in the course of a few short months, I was often jogging to keep up with the theory of opponents at my new level, and struggling to assert my strength against the dangerous youngsters.
For example, in the course of a relatively short span, I had two games with the white pieces against Jesse Nicholas (currently 1790). The opening of the first game was a bit of a surprise, as Jesse played the rather antiquated Classical System in the Ruy Lopez with the line that entails an early Qf6. I knew that the variation existed, but was rather unprepared, though I think that I hacked out a reasonable game:
1.e4 e5
2.Nf3 Nc6
3.Bb5 Bc5!?
4.0-0 Qf6
5.c3 Nge7
6.d3

Apparently this move is unnecessarily conservative, as the rabid seeming 6.d4!? exd4 7.Bg5 Qg6 8.Bxe7 Bxe7 9.cxd4 is much more topical, although not necessarily good enough for much of a white advantage. In any case, after,
6. ... h6
7.Be3 Bb6
8.d4 exd4
9.cxd4 0-0
10.Nc3 d6
11.h3 Qg6
12.Kh2 Rd8
13.Qe2 d5
14.e5
I had what I thought a very promising position that I went on to win rather comfortably.

Afterwards though, I couldn't help wondering how I was "supposed" to handle the position, and went to the bookshelf and rummaged around until I found some theory, which I studied dutifully and then promptly forgot, and that was the end of that.
Some time later of course, I ran into Jesse again. I recalled in advance that he played the Classical Lopez, and I had a dim recollection of the game that we had played before, but I seemed to think that I had played 4.c3 in that game, and this time I played 4.0-0, imagining that I was varying from my earlier praxis according to whatever it was that I had studied. Unperturbed, Jesse comfortably whipped out his moves, and the game proceeded as follows:
1.e4 e5
2.Nf3 Nc6
3.Bb5 Bc5!?
4.0-0 Qf6
5.c3 Nge7
Yes, here we were again, though I didn't remember it as such, and I sat there all over again trying to decide how I ought to proceed. Predictably, my instincts were true, and after,
6.d3
we reached the very same untheoretical position as before:

Play continued to follow our earlier game,
6. ... h6
7.Be3 Bb6
Whereupon, I sank into a protracted think, and emerged with the indisputably inferior, and quite strange,
8.Na3!? Intent on going after the b6 prelate. From here, play proceeded,
8. ... 0-0
9.Nc4 d6
10.Nxb6 axb6
11.d4 exd4
12.cxd4 Bg4
13.Be2 Ng6
14.h3 Bd7
15.Qc2 Rac8
16.Qd2 Rfe8
17.d5 Nce5
18.Nxe5 dxe5
19.Kh2 Nf4

In many ways the games proceeded in a remarkably similar manner, demonstrating the consistencies of both of our chess processing minds. Once again, I conspired to find my king on the strangely obtuse h2 square, and attempted to force through central expansion at the expense of stability, resulting in a slightly shaky structural position. This time, however, my game proceeded in a decidedly inferior manner - as the result of... innovation! Yes, confronted with the exact same technical problem and position on the board with the benefit of added study time and much extra playing time, I went through the same progression and proceeded with a weaker plan.
It's hard to make sense of a situation like this in the immediate aftermath, and when I went home and hit the books again, I was rather raw at myself. With the benefit of hindsight though, I think that it is safe to reassert the old adage that learning is the faculty that allows us to recognize a mistake when we make it again, and perhaps to go a tad bit further and add that when we realize we are making the mistake even worse the second time, it's time to take a breather...

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