Ramble 12

As I write this, the World Chess Championship match between Anand and Topalov has finished in Bulgaria, with Anand emerging victorious. The score was 6.5 to 5.5, the win coming in the final game of the 12 game contest, thus avoiding the quick-play deciders. Congratulations to Anand, a player worthy of comparison with all the other great champions.

I wonder whether it is time for Mr. Kasparov to begin his next great series: ‘My Great Successors’. Perhaps after Carlsen becomes the champion? If, when, maybe.

I think the length of the match was just about right. With so much pressure these days, no adjournments, the whole world at your elbow watching what you are doing (that’s the internet for you), it would be sheer cruelty to wish to prolong the contest to the classical 24 games or have indefinite limits.

In one sense we have to say, that Team Anand triumphed over Team Topalov. I think management theorists, military strategists, and political leaders, may benefit from investigating the dynamics of these ‘chess teams’. How they marshal their forces to one common end - victory. Any home-ground advantage Topalov might have had was erased by the enormous strain he faced from the expectations of his countrymen and women. He came close but it seemed to me that by the end, Anand was playing in the more judicious, dare I say, champion-like, style. Even the Lasker variation of the QGD made an appearance. Topalov went for too much and lost. Perhaps he was concerned about playing against Anand at the faster time limits to come, if after the 12 games the match was drawn; Anand has a wicked reputation at fast time controls.

Anyway, it is over. History has been made. We all move on.

Chessbase had some very interesting articles on the match. I was gob-smacked to see a picture of the kinds of computer-clusters the players had used in their match. Bank after bank of processor-towers linked together and lined up like so many Daleks from Dr. Who: ‘Exterminate, exterminate!’

And Team Anand also had significant help from some very talented humanoids – all those with the ‘K’ sounding names chipped in: Kasparov, Kramnik, and Carlsen; perhaps even Karpov was mentally broadcasting ‘happy-thoughts’ to Anand. Team Topalov seemed to have more computers; Team Anand had the better humanoid help. Obviously there is a lot of good-will towards Anand from his rivals and colleagues. And why not? Talent, combined with a fine character (by all reports), and excellent sporting qualities. And now success in defending his world title; not many champions have been able to do that, including the great Capablanca, who fell at his first defence. Even Topalov seems to have a high regard for Anand and has referred to him in interviews as the ‘greatest chess talent in history’ (quoted on the FIDE World Championship website).

My goodness how chess has changed since the first days of the modern, professional, game. The days of Alekhine and Botvinnik (those even earlier are part of the ancient world). Is it still chess? We must let the games speak for themselves, and I think the answer is, yes.

The games are fascinating because of the way in which the players prepare. The role of the teams (which include those computational Daleks) is to make the player feel confident that his or her preparations are sound so that their strategy can be unleashed at the board. They are confident, because there is far less uncertainty than there used to be. If you can get your opponent into the general area of your preparation, and you can follow the script (actual lines or just the strategy prepared beforehand), then you will not lose and probably win. Just get those nerves under control.

Anand has pointed out (see Chessbase articles) that the Daleks – sorry, I mean those computer clusters – have to be dealt with carefully by the player and the team. Computers are just as likely to find an improvement in a line for your opponent as they are to help you; they do not care if the preferred line you were going to play tomorrow has to be ditched with much wailing and gnashing of teeth. In other words, they are not human, looking at things from your point of view. So deal with it. Secondly, they ought not to be allowed to snuff out your natural style of play. Imagine this: Sorry Mr Tal, no more sacrifices, no more attacking play; Rybka and its Daleks have ruled such play out; please adopt a no-risk, defensive strategy; think Petrosian. No way!

With the use of computers so prominent, we are still far from seeing the death of chess, as doomsayers have been prophesying for nearly a century. Games still finish with a win; they sparkle with sacrifices that would bring joy to a Tal or Anderssen. Match preparation may be comprehensive these days but people are still fallible, so we can continue to look forward to much joy in chess for some years to come.

In the meantime, Mr Anand should enjoy his period at the top. He has earned it.

George Eraclides