How Should You *Actually* Protect a Lead?
featuring Ryan O'Hanlon of ESPN — plus, thoughts on the World Championship
Do you see that? That new star in the sky? That puff of white smoke? The Earth being torn asunder and a bunch of little knights and bishops pouring out?
NO, that isn’t just happening because I finally got to play a game against an adult. A chess champion has been crowned!
Congratulations to Gukesh Dommaraju, who, at 18 years old, is the youngest FIDE World Chess Champion ever. And congratulations to Magnus Carlsen, who, instead of having to drive himself insane defending a title in one of the most grueling championship formats in all of sports, got to spend the two weeks of the match FaceTiming in from like, airports and hotel rooms on his phone, talking shit.
I had wanted to write about just how funny it was to watch Magnus recapping the games, but there’s only so much time in a day. I would say that the strangeness of the situation is pretty well encapsulated by the fact that, as soon as Gukesh won, he immediately came out and said, “Becoming the world champion does not mean I am the best player, obviously that is Magnus.” Honestly, it’s probably not the worst thing for an 18-year-old to get to feel when he otherwise seems to have reached the apex of his sports — there’s still Mt. Magnus to climb.
I have a little bit more to say about the very end of the championship, but I’ll save it for the end of the newsletter. The main event this week is a conversation with my dear friend and the Best Soccer Writer on the Planet, Ryan O’Hanlon. Every week of this newsletter so far, I’ve hit Ryan up with one question or another, but this time, I decided that I wanted to do a full-on conversation with him to explore our latest theme: How Should You *Actually* Protect a Lead? Not according to conventional wisdom or the way a high-school football coach might, but taking into account the latest analytics and smart-people thinking?
First, a brief set-up, and then we’ll dive into the conversation.
As I alluded to above, for the first week in the already hallowed history of Good Moves, I got to play against a non-child. A full-grown man. A person who, like me, is slowly disintegrating into dust and bone, rather than continuing to bloom toward their prime of intellect, physicality, and time available to pour into the game of chess.
Moreover, not only was this full-grown man not a child, he was also lower-rated than me. For those not keeping track at home, I am rated 1652, and my opponents so far have been rated 1922 and 1832. This week, my opponent was rated… 1107. That is a significant difference. To put it in perspective, it’s the difference between playing someone who is in the top 5% of players nationwide and someone who is in the top 33%.
Can I play up to my rating and win? Or will I choke under the pressure of being favored and lose? Let’s find out!
A Position.
This is move 12. Black has just given up a free pawn. After two weeks of struggling to stay even, I am already ahead — and now, I need to stay ahead. But how? Should I dig in and play defense, trading off everything on the board until I can convert a pawn-up endgame? Or should I double down and keep attacking, using my momentum to blast Black off of the board so I can be home in time to actually get a decent night’s sleep?
A Conversation.
To answer this question, I knew I had to talk to Ryan. Ryan isn’t just my dear friend and a writer for ESPN; he is also the author of Net Gains, which, for my money, is the best book about the influence of analytics on sports since Moneyball. Ryan and I have spent countless hours talking about what is and isn’t good strategy, and I thought this was a perfect chance to use one of my chess games to have a broader conversation about the art and science of protecting a lead, as well as many other things.
The video of our conversation is below, as is an audio-only link. Enjoy!
A Few Thoughts on the World Championship.
Before we go, I just wanted to say something about the World Championship, as it reminded me of why I love chess so much: I, like world champion Ding Liren, have blundered by trading rooks into a lost king-and-pawn endgame.
Before I elaborate, I’d strongly suggest that you watch the moment when Ding blundered and Gukesh realized he was going to be world champion. It’s pretty wild. I can’t think of another sport in which you would get to see, so up close, the exact moment when a person who thinks they’re merely in the middle of the competition realizes that they’re actually about to win the title. And conversely, it’s pretty excruciating to watch Ding realize that he’s just cost himself the title, though based on how the experience of being world champion has been for him, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some relief that comes from no longer having to deal with that pressure — and I’m not alone in this speculation. (The video should jump to this point, but if it doesn’t, it’s around 4:28:30 in.)
If you want to dig further into the championship itself, I thought this conversation between Ben Johnson (whose Perpetual Chess podcast is my favorite chess pod) and Daniel Naroditsky (who is my favorite chess personality on YouTube) was terrific.
But I mainly wanted to share a quick anecdote from one of my own games.
This is from a game I played last summer against a kid rated 1890. If I could’ve won or drawn, it would have been the best result of my career. At the time, I was enamored with what I perceived to be my superior pawn structure, and I was convinced that it would somehow allow me to win if I could get those pesky rooks off the board. (How would I win? Great question!)
So what did I do in this position? I played Rd6, offering the rook trade. And what happened when my opponent took the trade?
He had a winning king-and-pawn endgame.
If I had merely moved my king over to f7, it would’ve been a draw: White’s king is hemmed in by the rook and the f5 pawn, and the queenside pawns cancel each other out. Instead, I traded into a position where I was conclusively lost because I hadn’t taken the time to count how fast each pawn would be able to queen.
After the game, I received a piece of advice from another player that I expect I’ll remember for the rest of my chess-playing life: “Never go into a king-and-pawn endgame unless you know you’re going to win.” This is the best kind of advice to receive, because it’s so tied to an emotion and a moment in time that I can’t possibly forget it. Of course, that sort of advice comes at a cost, but that’s part of why you have to be willing to lose to get better: these sorts of experiences are invaluable.
Anyway, I just wanted to briefly mention this to emphasize why chess is so fascinating for me: even at the highest level, the game isn’t so different from the one I play, and I’m able to watch the World Championship, see a blunder, and think — been there.
WATCHING / READING / LISTENING
WATCHING: Due to my new parenthood, I’m only just starting to catch up with this year’s best movies, but I managed to watch Civil War yesterday and was pretty blown away. As compelling as I’m sure it was to see in IMAX, I’m grateful I got to watch it apart from what seemed to be the quite silly discourse that surrounded its release and appreciate it for what it was: an extremely well-made film.
READING: What was the best book I read this year? I’d say there were three pretty clear answers. The first was Stephen King’s It, which I spent three months on and which, I’m now convinced, is actually a true story about a real place and actual events and people, because it’s the only explanation for just how thorough King’s imagination is and the degree to which he’s able to realize Derry and its inhabitants. Second was Emma Cline’s The Guest, easily the most compelling contemporary novel I’ve read in a while. And the third was Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom, which I’d read before but which was an absolute delight to revisit. I think Franzen has become underrated over the last decade or so, and if you haven’t read either Freedom or The Corrections in a while — or ever — I’d strongly urge you to do so.
LISTENING: As for music, one album that I loved that I haven’t seen showing up on any of the year-end lists — aside from Foxing’s self-titled scorcher — is The Fool by Young Jesus, a beautiful and challenging and extremely Kevin album. Nothing I like more than a guy tearing his own heart out and leaving it there for everyone to look at, with just a piano and/or guitar for comfort! (See also: Ruminations, Conor Oberst.)
Okay! We’re off for the holidays, and will be back in the new year with a special edition — How to Beat Your Friends at Chess!
Until then, happy holidays, and remember: don’t go into a king-and-pawn endgame unless you know you’re going to win.