How To Analyze Your Games

Once upon a time, before Stockfish and glowing evaluation bars, analyzing your games meant something entirely different. You'd grab a notebook, sit with a friend or coach, replay the moves from memory, and try to answer questions like: "Where did I go wrong?", "What was my plan?", or "What could I have done better?"

There were no engines to give you a cold, calculated evaluation of the position. It was human intuition versus human mistakes. Grandmasters pored over their own games late into the night, sometimes discovering new ideas years after the game had been played. World champions like GMs Mikhail Botvinnik and Vasily Smyslov built entire careers on deep, personal analysis. That's how they trained their chess muscles. That's how their understanding was born.

Today? You click few buttons and boom. The computer tells you all the mistakes. Or even worse: one glance at your accuracy score and you "know" how you played.

Here's the truth: Without game analysis, real progress is almost impossible. You can solve a thousand puzzles, but if you don't examine your own mistakes, you'll plateau.

But here's the twist: Just because you can analyze with an engine doesn't mean you know how to use it. If you treat every move it flags as gospel without understanding why, you're missing the point.

Let's fix that.

• How Chess Analysis Used to Work
• The Problem with Modern Analysis
• The Right Way to Analyze: A Step-by-Step Method
• When To Analyze
• Final Thought: Your Game Is Your Teacher

How Chess Analysis Used to Work

Back in the days before strong engines, analyzing wasn't optional—it was the only way to progress. Champions and club players alike would spend hours reviewing games move by move, writing thoughts, calculating lines, building analysis trees. Some annotated so thoroughly that their handwritten notes stretched across 10 or even 20 pieces of paper.

At the time, many top-level games weren't even played in one sitting. After four or five hours, games were adjourned. Players would write down their next move in secret, seal it in an envelope, and the game would pause until the next day.

What followed was a race against time—and a battle of preparation. That sealed move kicked off hours (sometimes an entire night) of home analysis. You had one job: figure out how to win the resumed game.

Some players worked with teams. Others, like GM Bobby Fischer, refused help altogether. Fischer trusted no one to analyze his adjourned games. He sat down, pored over every line, and came back ready to finish what he started—armed only with his own brain.

One of my old coaches once told me a story: While he was a student, he got caught analyzing an adjourned game in the middle of a university lecture. His professor kicked him out of class. That's how serious adjournments were—no moment could be wasted.

Today? Adjourned games are history after digital clocks and online chess killed the format. But the core skill—analyzing your own positions—is as valuable as ever.

The Problem with Modern Analysis

Here's what happens to 90% of chess players today:

1. Finish a game
2. Click "Analysis"
3. Scroll through the colored bars
4. See where the engine screams "BLUNDER!"
5. Think "Oh, I should have played that move instead"
6. Close the tab and queue up the next game

Sound familiar? This isn't analysis. This is engine worship. And it's keeping you stuck.

What's Wrong with This Approach?

• You're not thinking—you're just consuming. The engine gives you the "best" move, but do you understand why it's best? Can you explain the plan behind it? Would you find it again in a similar position?
• You focus on the wrong mistakes. That -2.5 blunder on move 35? Sure, it lost the game. But what about the small inaccuracies in moves 12, 18, and 23 that got you in trouble in the first place?
• You skip the most important question. Instead of asking "What was the right move?" you should be asking "Why did I choose the wrong one?"

The Right Way to Analyze: A Step-by-Step Method

Ready to analyze like grandmasters and top players do? Here's the method that separates improving players from those who stay stuck forever.

Step 1: Analyze Without an Engine

Before you rush to open the evaluation bar, stop. Always analyze your game on your own first. No engine. No second opinions. Just you and the board.

Play through your game slowly and ask:

• What was I thinking here?
• Why did I make this move?
• What alternatives did I consider?
• When did I start playing "hope chess" instead of calculating?
• Where did I feel uncomfortable for the first time?
• What was my plan in the middlegame?

If you can't answer that last question, that's already a red flag.

Find Your "Point of No Return"

Every lost game has one: the moment where a perfectly fine position became problematic. Sometimes it's obvious—a one-move blunder that drops material. But more often, it's subtle. A series of small inaccuracies. A plan that looked good but was actually flawed from the start.

Your mission: Find that moment: Not the final mistake that lost the game, but the first mistake that put you on the path to trouble.

Find that moment. Not the final mistake that lost the game, but the first mistake that put you on the path to trouble.

Step 2: Review With a Stronger Player (If You Can)

Discussing a game with someone stronger than you is pure gold. Whether it's a coach, a friend, or a titled player, walking through your game together can reveal blind spots you never knew you had.

Some of my favorite post-game memories involve sitting at the board, replaying my game with my coach, and hearing, "Why didn't you try this instead?" Boom—one sentence and my whole perspective shifted.

Here's why human analysis beats computer analysis: A strong player will focus first on the biggest mistakes that actually matter, not every tiny inaccuracy. They'll give you context, explain the reasoning behind moves, and—most importantly—they'll give you specific recommendations on what aspect of your game needs work.

Meanwhile, a computer just says "-1.1" but won't tell you that you need to study pawn endgames or work on your tactical vision. A good analyst will.

Step 3: Bring in the Engine—But Use It Wisely

Now—and only now—it's time to turn on the engine. Not as your god, not as your guru, but as a sparring partner.

You've already done the real work of self-reflection and move-by-move analysis. The engine is here to challenge your findings, confirm (or deny) your conclusions, and point out what you may have missed.

Here's a quick reference for computer evaluations:

• +1.00 = White is the equivalent of a pawn ahead
• -2.00 = Black has a winning position
• 0.00 = Equal, likely drawn with best play
• Ed. note: More recent versions of Stockfish use a different scale, but it is very technical, and the framework used here is still useful.

But the truth lives between the decimals. +0.30 isn't just a shrug and a wink—it might mean an open file, a better bishop, a slightly safer king. Engines are obsessed with micro-details: a piece placed slightly better, a hidden weakness, an extra tempo.

Computer Evaluation ≠ Human Playability (Practical Chess)

Or, the evaluation bar might scream "+1.20" and you think you were cruising. But the board tells a different story: tactical chaos, no time on the clock, exposed king.

You're not a machine. Engines evaluate by depth, precision, and unrelenting logic. But we're human. We weigh risk. We miss things. We feel pressure.

The computer is the only opponent who never makes excuses when I beat him.

— Anonymous

Don't Just Copy. Learn.

If you're just copying Stockfish without understanding it, you're not learning chess—you're learning how to imitate a robot. And let's be honest: you're not a machine.

Try this instead:

• Explore the engine's top two to three suggestions
• Try to find the human idea behind the move
• Ask: Would I find this move during a game? If not—why not?
• Look for recurring themes (weak squares, open files, tactics you missed)

What to Focus On (In Order of Priority)

1. Blunders—obvious mistakes that cost material or allow tactics,
2. Major mistakes—strategic decisions that changed the game's course,
3. Recurring patterns—themes that reveal gaps in your understanding,
4. Missed opportunities—tactical chances or better plans,
5. Opening errors—especially if they lead to a poor middlegame.

The Golden Rule: CCA Framework

Want to level up? Think like a predator, not prey.

Before every critical move—yours or your opponent's—run the CCA drill:

1. Checks — Who's checking whom? Can you deliver one? Can they?
2. Captures — What's hanging? What trades are available?
3. Attacks — What's under pressure? What target can you exploit?

CCA is your built-in tactical radar. Because if you're pushing some random pawn while ignoring a hanging queen—don't be shocked when the house collapses.

A Practical Example

Let me show you how this works with a concrete position.

White has just played Re1, clearly preparing e4 to claim the center. It's Black to move.

At first glance, the most natural move might seem to be ...e5, fighting back for the center. Harmless enough.

But as soon as you apply the CCA framework, two candidate moves jump out:

1. Checks: Bxf2+
2. Captures: Again—Bxf2+
3. Attacks: Ng4, eyeing the f2 square

Most players would glance at Bxf2+ and shake their heads. "A bishop for a pawn? No way that works."

But let's calculate.

Suddenly, White's queen is trapped by her own army! What looked like a "blunder" was a brilliant combination all along.

During a real game, most players miss ideas like this. Not because they're bad at chess—but because they ignore the basic framework. They don't check for forcing moves. They go with "safe" moves and never look back.

This is exactly why post-game analysis matters.

Talk to the Engine—Don't Worship It

Here's what most players do—and it's a huge problem: They finish a game, open the engine... and just look at the red and green arrows. That’s not analysis. That’s passive watching.

You need to develop an actual reflex: every variation you calculated during the game? Input it into the engine. Type it in. Check it. Was your idea sound? What did you miss?

And don’t stop there. If your opponent messed up too, dig deeper. Could they have punished you? How? Where did both of you go wrong?

Talk to the engine. Seriously.

Ask it questions:

• "Why do you say this move is bad?"
• "What if I play this instead?"
• "Ah… that’s the tactic I missed!"

Talk to the engine. Seriously. Ask it questions.

Check all the sidelines you were calculating during the game. Try to understand if your judgement was correct (in most cases why it was strong!).

This is how real improvement happens. You're not just memorizing what Stockfish spits out, you're learning to think like a strong player.

Start treating the engine as a sparring partner, not a god. Challenge it. Test your ideas. Build that habit and your understanding will explode.

Draw Conclusions

Once the analysis is done, don't just nod and move on—extract the lessons. Ask yourself: What exactly needs work? Be specific.

• Got into trouble right out of the opening? Review the theory
• Missed critical tactical ideas? Time to grind puzzles
• Struggled with a strategic concept? Study model games
• Made the same type of mistake again? Focus on that pattern

If you analyze your games consistently and honestly, improvement isn't a question of if—it's a matter of when.

When to Analyze

Best time: Right after the game, when emotions and thoughts are freshest.

Reality check: That's not always possible. Sometimes you just need a nap. That's fine—just make sure you come back to it.

Important: Analyze every game—wins, losses, and draws. In 99% of your "brilliant" victories, you'll still find plenty of mistakes. Don't let the result fool you into thinking the play was perfect.

Your Analytical Checklist

Before you close that analysis tab, make sure you've answered:

1. ✅ What was my biggest mistake, and why did I make it?
2. ✅ What pattern or skill gap does this reveal?
3. ✅ What should I study to avoid this mistake next time?
4. ✅ Did I follow basic principles (development, center control, king safety)?
5. ✅ Where could I have used the CCA framework better?

Final Thought: Your Game Is Your Teacher

Every game you play is a goldmine—win, lose, or draw. But unless you take the time to reflect on it, that gold stays buried.

So promise yourself this: no more throwing games into the void. If you care about getting better, analyze. First by yourself. Then with others. Then with a machine.

Let the engine challenge you, not replace you. Let the numbers guide you, not define you. And let your own brain—curious, skeptical, creative—do the heavy lifting.

You can only become a great master in chess when you recognize your own mistakes and weaknesses. Just like in life.

— Alexander Alekhine (attributed)

Now go analyze like a beast. ♟

If you would like to see some examples of analysis in action, are three from my own games (also available in Classroom):