LJ Idol Exhibit A (Second Chance), Round 4: "Nothing Good Will Come of This"
"Zugzwang"
Dave Geary squinted at the iPad held by the young man sitting beside him. It took a few seconds for the pieces to come into focus on the board. "You want my advice? Queen to g4."
"Really?" The young man seemed taken aback. "But don't I want to be playing defense here?"
"Of course not!" Geary snapped. He'd seen this before, too many times to count over his five decades in the game. These young bucks didn't understand the overarching concepts, the things reading couldn't teach. "Your pawn formation is horrible, your rook is sitting in the corner gathering dust, and there's a hole in the position at f7 that you've got to exploit. You have neither the time nor the means to play defense. This position screams attack."
Geary looked up to see people clustering around a piece of paper taped to the wall. Pairings for the next round had just been posted. "Now then, if you'll excuse me," he said to the young man, who was still staring befuddledly at his tablet.
Searching the middle of the standings for his name, the old master sighed when he saw what a 3-1 start had earned him. Meidiev. The Russian grandmaster was a formidable foe, having won this high-stakes tournament three years running. "Well," he muttered to himself, "if I'm going to make some noise here, I'll have to go through him at some point. Best get it out of the way now."
Dmitri Meidiev sat calm and composed at the assigned table. The black pieces stood in front of him, an army awaiting orders. Geary shuffled gingerly into his seat, taking stock of the man who had accomplished nearly as much as he had in half the time on this planet. "Good to see you again," he said cordially. The Russian merely nodded, his blue eyes steely and focused.
Geary knew Meidiev's reputation as a fearsome attacker, willing to take risks. Fortunately, he believed he had the answer, despite their past history--in eight tries, Geary had only managed one win. Frustrate the hell out of him, Geary thought to himself. Play solid defense, and wait for him to overcommit. Then counterattack. Geary realized he might be playing for a draw--some would say 'playing not to lose'--but against someone of Meidiev's caliber, a half-point was a good result. And if his opponent slipped, so much the better.
"Ready?" The Russian poised his hand over the clock. Upon seeing Geary give a curt nod, he pressed the button, signaling the start of the game. Geary calmly moved his pawn to g3, initiating the King's Indian--a solid defensive opening that sought to induce an ill-advised attack.
As the game progressed, Geary felt confident in his plan. While Meidiev developed the advantage in space and mobility, Geary solidified his defense, knowing that eventually, the young Russian would have to attempt to poke a hole in the wall. And when he did, the American would be ready.
On Meidiev's twenty-seventh move, he slid a bishop over to d3, right into the center of a triangle of white pawns. This was it--the opportunity Geary had been waiting for. He looked over at his clock, noting that he had about fifty minutes remaining to make his next thirteen moves before the extra time would be added. Plenty of time, then, to consider this critical position.
Something struck him, however, as he considered the implications of various lines. I can't capture with the knight; that'll let his rook move over to e4, and I can't get out of that...moving the bishop to attack his doesn't work, as he'll just trade and come in with the queen...do I just let it sit there? No, he'll just bring the knight in to defend it, and then I'm really going to be in trouble...
Finally, after nearly a quarter-hour of thought, Geary slid his rook over one square, marking time. Meidiev quickly maneuvered his knight to f4, as expected. The next few moves played out in a flash, as though scripted. Which, in the player's minds, they were.
Before making his thirty-sixth move, Geary paused for breath. He was down to about ten minutes on his timer, and as he scanned the position, he realized that he only had approximately that many legal moves. Wow, he thought to himself. Do I have any way out of this? It's not like he's really attacking me...
Every move he analyzed, however, had a severe drawback. Can't move the rook, or the other one is left out to dry...moving the bishop allows mate in three...that move loses the queen... There were only bad options. No matter what he did, the end result would be disappointing. I should've known better, he thought. Nothing good ever comes out of playing for a draw. That's the first thing I teach...so why did my fear of this guy make me do otherwise?
With time dwindling and no hope of escape, Geary decided to take the honorable way out. Reaching out a single finger, he placed it atop the white king and tipped it over. "Nicely done, Dmitri."
Dave Geary squinted at the iPad held by the young man sitting beside him. It took a few seconds for the pieces to come into focus on the board. "You want my advice? Queen to g4."
"Really?" The young man seemed taken aback. "But don't I want to be playing defense here?"
"Of course not!" Geary snapped. He'd seen this before, too many times to count over his five decades in the game. These young bucks didn't understand the overarching concepts, the things reading couldn't teach. "Your pawn formation is horrible, your rook is sitting in the corner gathering dust, and there's a hole in the position at f7 that you've got to exploit. You have neither the time nor the means to play defense. This position screams attack."
Geary looked up to see people clustering around a piece of paper taped to the wall. Pairings for the next round had just been posted. "Now then, if you'll excuse me," he said to the young man, who was still staring befuddledly at his tablet.
Searching the middle of the standings for his name, the old master sighed when he saw what a 3-1 start had earned him. Meidiev. The Russian grandmaster was a formidable foe, having won this high-stakes tournament three years running. "Well," he muttered to himself, "if I'm going to make some noise here, I'll have to go through him at some point. Best get it out of the way now."
Dmitri Meidiev sat calm and composed at the assigned table. The black pieces stood in front of him, an army awaiting orders. Geary shuffled gingerly into his seat, taking stock of the man who had accomplished nearly as much as he had in half the time on this planet. "Good to see you again," he said cordially. The Russian merely nodded, his blue eyes steely and focused.
Geary knew Meidiev's reputation as a fearsome attacker, willing to take risks. Fortunately, he believed he had the answer, despite their past history--in eight tries, Geary had only managed one win. Frustrate the hell out of him, Geary thought to himself. Play solid defense, and wait for him to overcommit. Then counterattack. Geary realized he might be playing for a draw--some would say 'playing not to lose'--but against someone of Meidiev's caliber, a half-point was a good result. And if his opponent slipped, so much the better.
"Ready?" The Russian poised his hand over the clock. Upon seeing Geary give a curt nod, he pressed the button, signaling the start of the game. Geary calmly moved his pawn to g3, initiating the King's Indian--a solid defensive opening that sought to induce an ill-advised attack.
As the game progressed, Geary felt confident in his plan. While Meidiev developed the advantage in space and mobility, Geary solidified his defense, knowing that eventually, the young Russian would have to attempt to poke a hole in the wall. And when he did, the American would be ready.
On Meidiev's twenty-seventh move, he slid a bishop over to d3, right into the center of a triangle of white pawns. This was it--the opportunity Geary had been waiting for. He looked over at his clock, noting that he had about fifty minutes remaining to make his next thirteen moves before the extra time would be added. Plenty of time, then, to consider this critical position.
Something struck him, however, as he considered the implications of various lines. I can't capture with the knight; that'll let his rook move over to e4, and I can't get out of that...moving the bishop to attack his doesn't work, as he'll just trade and come in with the queen...do I just let it sit there? No, he'll just bring the knight in to defend it, and then I'm really going to be in trouble...
Finally, after nearly a quarter-hour of thought, Geary slid his rook over one square, marking time. Meidiev quickly maneuvered his knight to f4, as expected. The next few moves played out in a flash, as though scripted. Which, in the player's minds, they were.
Before making his thirty-sixth move, Geary paused for breath. He was down to about ten minutes on his timer, and as he scanned the position, he realized that he only had approximately that many legal moves. Wow, he thought to himself. Do I have any way out of this? It's not like he's really attacking me...
Every move he analyzed, however, had a severe drawback. Can't move the rook, or the other one is left out to dry...moving the bishop allows mate in three...that move loses the queen... There were only bad options. No matter what he did, the end result would be disappointing. I should've known better, he thought. Nothing good ever comes out of playing for a draw. That's the first thing I teach...so why did my fear of this guy make me do otherwise?
With time dwindling and no hope of escape, Geary decided to take the honorable way out. Reaching out a single finger, he placed it atop the white king and tipped it over. "Nicely done, Dmitri."