Normally I'd have waited until a bit later in the day to report on this, but as there is so much misinformation running around, thanks primarily to arbiters' incompetence (but I repeat myself), that I thought I'd write sooner rather than later. (Or at least that was the plan. Unfortunately, for only the second time since I've used this host, the server ate about 80% of my post without saving a copy. Ugh! The one bright side is that I became aware of and corrected an earlier error, and now have the main tournament's first round's pairings to report.)
A few days ago I offered high praise for the organization of the Norway Chess tournament's website. The website still deserves it, but today's coverage was pretty bad; certainly in comparison with what we've come to expect from super-events in Russia.
For starters, a little joke. On a flight a year or two ago, the flight attendant decided to liven up the usual pre-flight spiel with some humor, adding that the cabin lights would be dimmed "to enhance the beauty of the person sitting next to you." It seems the Norway organizers have taken that to heart in their use of cameras. There's one for every table, which is great, but they have the sort of resolution you'd expect from a cheap digital or web camera circa the mid-to-late 1990s. The angle and distance are poor too, so while you can kind of make out the position if you try hard and follow the game from the start, and can kind of make out the players' emotions, neither is easy or a pleasure. Maybe high-def cameras are expensive, but I think the typical iPhone camera could do a better job.
And then there are the arbiters. Where do they find these people, anyway? Errare humanum est and all that, and they may be the nicest people in the world. But seriously, can't they figure out how to operate a DGT board after all these years? They goofed up Svidler-Wang Hao in round 1, entering it as a draw when Black won, and they made a bookend goof in the last round, labeling Wang Hao-Karjakin a draw too. As a result, sites everywhere (including TWIC) left claiming the tournament ended in a five-way tie for first between Magnus Carlsen, Viswanathan Anand, Sergey Karjakin, Peter Svidler and Hikaru Nakamura. (That's at least better than the live commentary, when despite looking at and discussing the standings for the last several minutes of the broadcast, Dirk Jan ten Geuzendam repeatedly failed to notice that Nakamura's last-round win put him into the alleged tie.)
Only after everyone stopped watching and started posting erroneous reports did they correct their goofs. The first-round loss dropped Svidler out of the tie for first, and more importantly, Karjakin's last-round win meant there wasn't a tie to begin with: Karjakin took first all to himself!
Now a few words about the tournament.
First, Teimour Radjabov was the early hero, winning his first four games, including one over Carlsen. It looked like he had bounced back from his back-to-back disasters in London and Zug. A draw in round 5 kept him in good shape, but just when it looked like he'd be the hero of the event he lost three in a row before drawing in the last round. Plus-one was still a good result, but a disappointment after the early start and not enough to reach a position in the coveted top five. (Or is it "coveted"? More on that later.)
Having just the opposite sort of tournament was Jon Ludwig Hammer. Coming into the event he looks like the special du jour for whoever gets to play him, and it seemed that this would be true of the blitz event as well. After five rounds, going into the break, he had just half a point, and he was lucky to have that. (Topalov had a colossal advantage and missed several chances to mate him in round 2.) In a private conversation with live commentator (and his former trainer) Simen Agdestein over the break, he opined that he really hadn't played so badly in the first half, and in the second half he proved it. He won his next two and drew the last two to finish with a very respectable 3.5 points. (Especially considering that Veselin Topalov only scored one total point, with his second draw coming in the last round. Even Levon Aronian finished behind Hammer, scoring just half a point through four rounds and two and a half points in total.)
Of course most eyes were on the other Norwegian participant, Magnus Carlsen. Several of his games were especially worthy of note. First was the marquee matchup and world championship preview; to wit, his round 1 game with Viswanathan Anand. Anand had White in a Closed Ruy, and alas, there were no fireworks. Carlsen held, the game remained controlled, and it ended in a draw. Carlsen lost in round 2 to Radjabov, but soon, as always, he made a good run. He was certainly helped along by a massive gift from Nakamura in round 7. Carlsen had a large advantage that dwindled slightly but still remained serious prior to his blunder 29.Rd5?(?), after which Nakamura enjoyed the better chances. Soon they reached a position that was absolutely unloseable for Nakamura and almost surely for Carlsen as well. Unfortunately for Nakamura, in his desire to make "something" happen he chose a plan with ...g4-g3 followed by ...Kg4 and ...Kf3. The problem is that the plan simply couldn't work, and only managed to get Nakamura in trouble. As a practical matter, he should have tried to work out the details first, and if he lacked the time he could have made a long series of pointless moves to build up time using the increments. As it was, the plan was only dangerous for Nakamura, and when he failed to admit his mistake and retreat his king on move 53, the result was a routine rook ending win for the Norwegian.
What he received in round 7, however, he returned in round 8. Sergey Karjakin has been one of his regular "customers" for some time now, but today he held on as Carlsen started to build an advantage, kept in the game, and when Carlsen got a little careless with 39...Nxe3(?!) he pounced with 40.Bh5. Carlsen needed to play 40...Qe4!, when chances remain even, but surprised by Karjakin's move he played the "automatic" 40...Rf8?? and lost a piece and the game to 41.Re7 Qf5 42.Qxe3.
Carlsen bounced back in the finale though, with a small measure of revenge for the last round of the Candidates'. Carlsen beat Svidler, keeping up the pressure until the Russian finally cracked from move 39 on.
Karjakin was the hero of the day, however, vanquishing his tormentor and taking clear first with a four-game winning streak to end the tournament. Here are the final standings, and since the point of the exercise was to determine pairing numbers ties aren't listed:
1. Karjakin 6.5/9
2. Carlsen 6
3. Anand 6
4. Nakamura 6
5. Svidler 5.5
6. Radjabov 5
7. Hammer 3.5
8. Wang 3
9. Aronian 2.5
10. Topalov 1
Those who finished in the top five are thus guaranteed an extra White in the tournament. But is this in fact an advantage? Of course it is, all things being equal - White outscores Black in tournament chess by a roughly 55-45 margin. The problem is that not all things are equal - there are the accursed tiebreaks once again. It isn't the first tiebreaker, which is the highly unlovely Sonneborn Berger, and it isn't the second one; that's most losses wins. But the third tiebreak is most games with Black.
[UPDATE: This is incorrect; there will be a blitz playoff in case of a tie. The page with the regulations is rather odd though - have a look (it's linked in the previous paragraph). It says that tiebreaks don't matter, and then it lists tiebreaks for no apparent reason. At any rate, the argument below still has value, I think, as there are other tournaments where the number of games (and wins) with Black is used as a tiebreaker.]
Now, consider Armageddon games. Only very, very rarely does anyone choose the white pieces for such contests. It's almost universally accepted that Black is better off there, possibly much better off. If that's so, is it really better to have five Whites? Think about it this way: after eight rounds, let's say that all the key rivals have had four white games and four black games. The S-B tiebreaker is so random that we can disregard it, and in many cases the "most wins" criterion will be a push. So now you're choosing in round 9: White or Black? If you're Black, you essentially have draw odds (or more precisely, tie odds.) White wins more often than Black does, but the odds of White winning are greatly inferior to the odds of Black winning OR drawing. So wouldn't you choose Black in such a situation?
Once again, this strikes me as an argument for blitz playoffs. Or at the very least, considering that pairing numbers were determined here by skill rather than by a random process, let those players who did well here keep their advantage: an extra white game with no repercussion in the tiebreaks.
Enough ranting! On to the pairings for the classical tournament, which ought to be a great one.
Round 1 Pairings:
- Carlsen - Topalov
- Anand - Aronian
- Nakamura - Wang Hao
- Svidler - Hammer
- Karjakin - Radjabov
Let's Blog!
At least a little. It has been a while, but there are a couple of bits of chess news to report, and then I'll offer a brief status update on my condition.
So, first, chess! Several people have noted this Vladimir Kramnik interview (Mark Crowther of TWIC was the first), and it's both a very good read in its own right and a balm for the soul to those of us who, like me, may have been pulling a little extra hard for him to break through to meet Viswanathan Anand for another title shot. Many of you may have already read it, but if you haven't I highly recommend it - whether you're a Kramnik fan or not.
Second, there's a very strong event underway - the Russian Team Championships. As is common these days, the event title is something of a misnomer, as plenty of non-Russians are participating. Unless you're a Russian from a relevant region, though, you are probably like me far more interested in the event as an excuse to see great individual players in action; if so, there's good news. Recent candidates Peter Svidler, Alexander Grischuk and the great spoiler Vassily Ivanchuk are all in action, along with former "vice-champions" Peter Leko and Gata Kamsky (Ivanchuk was one as well, if you count the old FIDE K.O.s), and plenty of other superstars like Sergey Karjakin, Fabiano Caruana, Alexander Morozevich, Shakriyar Mamedyarov and other 2700+ rated stars are in action.
I've only just started to glance at the games, and one immediately caught my eye - Baadur Jobava's rout of Karjakin in what at least appears at first glance to be an utterly insipid line of the Giuoco Piano. I'd post it using ChessBase's online "service", but as it appears to be nonfunctional yet again I'll just post the PGN notation here. (Note: It will take me a little while to figure out a new system - please bear with me - but the ChessBase server has simply failed too often for me to use it anymore. I don't know if they are suffering from hackers, or if they grossly underestimated the system load or what, but at least for the moment they appear utterly unreliable.)
GM Jobava, Baadur (2702) - GM Karjakin, Sergey (2786), 20th TCh-RUS 2013, Round 2:
1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4 Bc5 4.c3 Nf6 5.d4 exd4 6.e5 d5 7.Be2 Ne4 8.cxd4 Bb4+ 9.Bd2 Nxd2 10.Nbxd2 0-0 11.0-0 f6 12.Rc1 Kh8 13.Nb3 Bg4 14.a3 Be7 15.Re1 fxe5 16.dxe5 Rf4 17.h3 Bh5 18.Nc5 Bxc5 19.Rxc5 d4 20.e6 Bg6 21.Bd3 Qf6 22.Ng5 Ne7 23.Bxg6 hxg6 24.Ne4 Qxe6 25.Ng5 Qf6 26.Re6 Qf8 27.Rxg6 Rh4 28.Ne6 1-0
I don't believe Jobava's approach will set the world on fire any more than Kramnik's 10.h3 in the Scotch Four Knights, but what they do - and what Carlsen often does as well - is to create positions with at least three critical characteristics. First, they are new. By this I mean a type of position that is new in some respect - it's not just some micro-change in the context of a very well-understood position-type. Sometimes a novelty is finding a new finesse on move 22 that may gain a tempo in a race between two very well-known plans. This is not that. 5.d4 is ancient but utterly devoid of danger in the main lines to those in the know, and being in the know can be accomplished these days in about 10-15 minutes. But Jobava doesn't beat the dead horse that is 6.cxd4, but instead chooses the rarer 6.e5 and then, after 6...d5, the really rare 7.Be2. Ironically, Jobava was one of the few to previously try it, and he lost both times, in 2012, to other 2700-rated players (Malakhov and Kamsky).
In those games Black played 8...Bb6 rather than giving check on b4, and through move 11 they followed another high-level game, a Vallejo Pons-Ponomariov contest from 2011. Like Jobava's 2012 games Black won this one too, but here it was Jobava who innovated with 12.Rc1. And this, my friends and readers, presents a really new position! Who is better? What plans should be chosen? How, if at all, should the pawn tension between White's e- and Black's f-pawns be resolved? Do Black's bishops matter? Do the c-file and White's mini-plan of Nb3-c5 cause Black serious difficulties?
Karjakin is a great player, and on balance a stronger one than Jobava. But part of Karjakin's great strength is his diligence, his very professional level of preparation. This has been characteristic of his play for a long time, and his decision several years ago to work especially with Garry Kasparov's former "permanent" trainer Yuri Dokhoian has only solidified that tendency in Karjakin. Jobava, on the other hand, prefers the road less traveled. I don't mean by this that he is any less diligent in working on his openings than Karjakin, but rather that his openings are less traveled in general than Karjakin's. This gives him a double advantage, when he succeeds. First, he will know his lines better, simply because they are his. But to return to the initial comment starting this discussion, they are new positions, which means that Karjakin's greater general breadth and depth of chess understanding (I'm assuming that characterization is true - please join me there if only for the sake of the argument) isn't so relevant. So, there's newness.
Second, the positions are not readily resolved. This is pretty clear by implication in the foregoing discussion, but it's worth stating explicitly. Maybe White has absolutely nothing from a "God's-eye view" in this line, even as late as 12.Rc1, but so what? I've seen my share of super-GM post-mortems where a player will say something like "Yes, and here Black does this, this and this; trades off the bishops and the position is simply drawn." Such statements are sometimes made practically right out of the opening, and yet the thing is that they are frequently on the money with those assessments. (It's not necessarily that we would manage to hold the position against them, but it's fair for them to assume that a player of comparable technical skill could do so.) In fact, even I've made such statements on occasion in a few positions I've taken myself to understand extremely well, and it's quite possible that you have too, and with justification.
But getting back to the Jobava-Karjakin game, no such story is possible, at least not yet. This goes hand-in-glove with the "newness" point. If Jobava's Giuoco line catches on a bit then we'll have super-GMs and correspondence chess mavens working things out to death, and then we'll see the press conferences where Anand or Kramnik or whoever it is playing Black says "Yes, this is the important factor in the position, and by trading this, covering that square and maneuvering this and that to here and there White has nothing." But for now, it's far from obvious what the play-killing plan is, and that's what makes it work.Third, the opponent has real problems to solve. This isn't Chess960, where we're all just trying to figure out what to do even if there aren't any particular problems just yet. Nor is it simply a vague position where one isn't sure how to clarify the position, but isn't in any trouble as a result. Karjakin had real problems to solve right out of the opening. Jobava soon enjoyed a serious advantage, which he rapidly parlayed into a crushing attack.
That was a bit of a ramble, I suppose, but it's worth thinking about openings along the aforementioned lines. Many amateurs - and many pros too, for that matter - work on their openings with an eye to either murdering their opponents in the main lines or (more often in amateurdom) seeking some tricky, get-rich-quick sideline. The first approach goes back to opening encyclopedias going back at least as far as Bilguier, and is surely the preferred method of Generation Space Bar (i.e., of those who prompt Houdini or their favorite engine to execute its most highly-evaluated move by pressing the space bar on their keyboard). The trappy approach surely has an even older pedigree, though I'm sure its results overall are considerably worse. There are still other approaches, but I think it's worth taking this Jobava/Kramnik/Carlsen approach very seriously as a major third way.
Now from schach to sciatica. Thanks to the glory of painkillers and especially steroids (not of the sort that will get me banned from Olympic weightlifting competitions, fear not), I'm at least able to function like a reasonable facsimile of myself for the moment, after a week and a half of consistent agony and terrible sleep. This is not a cure though, and on Monday I'll see a neurologist to decide what's next: an injection, (comparatively minor) surgery or something else or some combination of options. It seems that my back and discs are pretty good in general, so there are reasonable grounds to hope that after treatment (and some possible post-treatment misery) I should function at least as well as before. And assuming I'm able to keep all of you posted, I will!
Again, many, many thanks to those of you who have contributed, often with some kind words as well. The financial help has indeed been a help, and the encouragement and care it represented has been if anything an even greater blessing - especially during the most painful and incapacitating days of this struggle. I'm not out of the woods yet, but as noted above, it's a relief to at least feel like a reasonable facsimile of my usual self. Thank you!