How not to break up with Chess

The goddess of chess, Caissa, is a fickle woman, and sometimes being a chess player is a bit like being married. For the most part, it’s a loving, caring relationship, full of laughs and cheer. And really, if given a choice, wouldn’t we all rather be playing chess all day? But alas, like every successful marriage, there are times when one’s deep-seated love of the game gives way to anguish. Particularly after a long absence from the board, it can take some time to get reacquainted, and rekindle the chess romance. And that can be very, very frustrating.

The recent Doeberl Cup saw me return to Caissa’s bed after a long, post-Siberian hiatus, to find things not as they once were. It was a bit like coming back to watching a television series after missing a whole bunch of episodes: the characters are all the same, and vaguely familiar, but they all seem to be acting in different ways!

Day one was not a success – winless and depressing. Every chess player has had one of those days when nothing seems to be going right, you just can’t ‘see’ anything on the board, and even Lady Luck seems to have it in for you. Your clock seems to be winding down faster than your opponent’s, your under-rated opposition seems be playing uncannily well, and before you know it, you’ve shed a dozen rating points and really can’t see the point of this whole chess thing, anyway. At your absolute lowest point, you even consider the idea of breaking up with Caissa for good, and give up the game completely.

After all, there’s more to life than chess, right? A new season of Masterchef, hope for the Broncos this season (looking more and more unlikely, unfortunately), and possibly a brief affair with Scrabble.

Sadly, every chess tragic knows that, deep in our heart, chess will always remain a true love, an unbreakable part of us, and these bumps along the road will, eventually, be overcome.

So, the big money question is then, of course: What do you do when you get in a chess rut?!

Every player has their own methods, their own means to climb out of the chess abyss. Learning a new chess opening, going back to studying endgames, hitting a bunch of chess problem books, playing a dozen internet blitz games, or even trying physical exercise are some of the favoured methods of chess professionals. And, to be fair, they seem to be moderately successful, although not for me. So what do I do?

I party.

Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. I certainly try to go out and remember that there are people who spend their Easter breaks doing things other than chess. Thursday night, fortunately (unfortunately?), my ‘partners in crime’ (or ‘the chess boys’, as my housemates know them) also were licking their chess wounds after a poor showing in the first two rounds, and were therefore prepared to hit up the Canberra nightlife with me. A nice dinner with a few tidy beers, a number of dodgy pubs and clubs, and a sheepish head in the morning were all part of the recipe for forgetting the trauma of our daylight disasters. And, as improbable as it might seem, this method was once again successful. In fact, we all performed above our (sober) average for the rest of the tournament, and finished respectably in each of our respective events.

Is there a lesson to be learned here? Not really. I’d much rather it be exercise that got me out of these chess slumps – it’d be far more productive, as well as a heck of a lot cheaper. Nevertheless, once you’ve found a winning formula…

Still, it’d of course be preferable not to fall into the rut in the first place. Tomorrow sees the start of the next event on the Australian circuit, the Sydney International Open. Let’s hope the first day goes a little better this time.

Otherwise, Sydney, look out!