If Openings Were People pt. 2
Welcome!
The way we normally learn openings could not be worse. Memorisation, long lines, and similar variations are all over the place.
That is why I am writing this! This blog will feature 6 openings in their "human" version, at least what I think they would look like.
But, hey! Not so fast! If you pay attention, the title has a "part 2" written on it. Before reading this post, you should read the first part, as there is much information and context that won't be talked about in depth. If you have already read it, I still recommend you briefly go over it again.
Nothing more to say, enjoy.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
She is the only one who truly understands the Sicilian.
Not because she is chaotic like him, but because she is his mirror. What he does with …c5, she does with c4. Same ideas. Same structures. Same language. Just reversed roles. Their relationship is adorable.
While the Sicilian walks into the room with tricks and poison, the English walks in with quiet confidence. She does not need drama. She knows that if you give her time, she will slowly build a position so harmonious that you will not even notice when you are already worse.
The English Opening was first popularized by the English master Howard Staunton, who employed it during his 1843 match against Saint-Amant and the 1851 London tournament.
She is positional, elegant, patient. She watches from the side while her fiancée throws tactical fireworks at everyone, and sometimes she smiles, knowing she could do the same thing but simply chooses not to. Her lines are slow, boring for some. However, she can surprise unprepared players, as e4 and d4 are way more common starting moves.
She is the calm version of chaos.
Let's see Smyslov's example.
See?
She is definitely calm, but can be very dangerous.
In those stormy days, she and the Sicilian play chess for hours. They just never switch colors, though.
This guy is tough.
Unlike his daughter, the French Defense, who prefers stubborn queenside battles, the Caro-Kann operates with precision.
He values structure above all else. Who wouldn't, right?
If you play the Caro-Kann when you are young, then what would you play when you are old?
— Bent Larsen
You can underestimate him, but the positions you get against him are no joke. His pawns move slowly but surely, and he secures the center as quick as a flash.
Despite his seriousness, there’s warmth too, hidden in subtlety. He teaches his daughter by example, showing that strength is measured not in the noise of tactics, but in the patience of preparation. His presence commands respect, and when he acts, it is decisive.
To learn a bit, I really think the choice is obvious. Karpov will be our teacher.
I feel the Caro-Kann defense is such a double-edged weapon. From my point of view, the player who knows the theory best will get a substantially better position. Ok, that seems obvious, though. The thing is, in many other openings, theory doesn't have a key role.
On the other hand, studying how to play against the Caro-Kann has been a game-changer for me. My best OTB game was against this defense. That may be the reason why I love playing against it so much.
“Mom, dad is droning on about pawn structures again!” shouts her daughter, the French Defense.
“Hon, you know he loves those,” she answers.
The French Defense stands there, arms crossed, already annoyed. She likes patience, structure, slow tension. Her mother? Her mother has never heard of patience.
Scandi is the type of mother who does not knock before entering a room. She opens the door, walks straight in, and sits at the table before anyone has time to react.
While her daughter builds walls and waits for opponents to suffocate themselves, Scandi prefers something much simpler.
She looks you in the eyes and says:
“I’m taking the center now. What are you going to do about it?"
She pushes 1…d5, and on the very next move, brings the queen out without shame, without fear, without apology.
People say it is early, risky... Whatever.
She says it is efficient.
Unlike the French, she does not enjoy long positional suffering. She wants clarity. She wants open lines. She wants the game to start immediately. If necessary, she moves the queen five times. She does not care.
And yet, despite her impulsiveness, there is a logic behind everything. This is where the French gets it from. The queenside love. The central tension. The refusal to follow conventions.
But where the daughter is cold and rigid, the mother is lively and flexible. She laughs when people tell her she is “dubious.” She has been called worse.
After seeing this example, I hope you take this rebel woman more seriously. By the way, if you want to learn how to play the most fun variation in the Scandi for black, you should click here.
The Scandinavian is spontaneous, fearless, and slightly provocative. She does not wait for the game to happen.
She starts it herself.
“Father, what if I push the g-pawn on move one?” asked the Grob.
Réti didn’t look up.
“You may,” he said calmly. “But you will be alone”. Grob grinned. From the other side of the table, Grob's cousin leaned back in his chair. “What if I move the king instead?”
This time Réti sighed. Like a man who had predicted this conversation years before it happened.
“Come. Sit. I will show you how to make your opponent think he understands the position… while he is already lost.”
That was Réti.
Réti does not fight for the center.
He lets you believe you own it.
Where classical openings say occupy the center, Réti smiles and says:
“Why? I can control it from here.”
This was revolutionary. This was the birth of the hypermodern school.
Réti is the kind of player who lets you feel one step ahead. But he is already two steps further, rearranging the position into something that only he understands. He is a psychological manipulator, but in the most polite way possible.
And strangely, he is a good father.
He knows his nephew is a bad influence on his son. He knows he should not be allowed near a chessboard unsupervised.
But he lets them experiment. Have you guessed the name of his nephew? Ok, let's leave that for later.
Now, let's learn how to apply the idea of "controlling the center without actually occupying it". I am sure no one can do this better than Richard Réti himself.
The double fianchetto was especially useful late in the game. We can also see how he controlled the game. Not always with the best moves, but with pressure and attack.
London System is not just a child; she’s a miniature prodigy in motion. She will keep her pawns steady the whole time. She loves her privileged memory and will use it on every occasion. Every step is deliberate, every thought measured, yet there’s a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes that hints at the ideas she hasn’t yet explored.
Always clutching her beloved teddy of the London Eye, she navigates life as she does chess: orderly, insightful, and surprisingly wise for her age. Her parents—the English and the Sicilian—have taught her the importance of knowing both offense and defense, but she has made her own path. She has inherited her mother's ability to reach closed and calm positions, but she still has some rebellious variations from her father.
Despite her discipline, she’s cheerful and endlessly curious. She asks questions about the world as much as the board, exploring, experimenting, and discovering, often surprising even her parents with her subtle genius. In London, she’s not just learning chess; she’s learning life.
Great game! That guy, Magnus, really knows how to move those pieces.
That's the London. She starts slowly and nicely. You know what to expect. However, you must be ready, as she knows her territory better than anyone. She gets the same positions over and over, and will punish even the slightest mistake at the right point.
The London does not rush. The pyramid structure of the pawns is solid and cannot be easily stopped. The dark square bishop is the soul of the game, and she will keep it safe in every way possible. But you know what they say, every cloud has a silver lining.
A good example of that is the London System. I recommend this setup against it. There is something strangely comforting about it. The same setup, the same ideas, the same plans are repeated so many times that they become second nature. It is not an opening that tries to surprise you. It is an opening that outlives you.
By the time the game becomes complicated, the London player is already at home. And you are the guest, trying to find the exit in a house she has walked through hundreds of times.
“I just like seeing their face,” Bongcloud says. “They prepare for years. Databases. Engines. Courses. And then… this.” He taps the king.
This seventeen-year-old disaster did not grow up ignorant. Quite the opposite. He understands chess deeply. That is precisely the problem. Because Bongcloud is not bad at chess. He is mocking chess.
Where his cousin Grob is chaos because he cannot help it, Bongcloud is chaos by choice. He knows what development is. He knows what the center is. He knows what safety is. He just finds all of it… boring.
He is the teenager who learned the rules perfectly and then decided they were optional. He walks into the room late, hoodie on, hands in pockets, and instead of greeting you, he moves his king to e2 like it is a joke only he understands.
And somehow, that irritates you more than losing would.
However, it does not irritate everybody. If you don't believe me, watch Carlsen and Nakamura play a double bongcloud.
Let me tell you something. It was HARD to find a good game featuring this opening. I'll let you judge the quality.
I know, I know. The other games were masterpieces, and we ended with this.
But let me tell you, this is the Bongcloud. He knows the game; he just chooses not to play calmly.
If the first part of this series introduced you to openings as people, this second part shows you something even stranger. Some are a family! They argue, they influence each other, they copy each other’s habits, and sometimes they try very hard not to resemble their relatives, only to end up doing exactly that.
The English calmly drinks her tea while her daughter, the London, sits perfectly still beside her, repeating the same routine with quiet joy. Across the table, the Caro-Kann sits upright, serious and composed, while the Scandinavian talks too much and reminds everyone where the French got her attitude from. In the corner, the Réti watches everything with a knowing smile, fully aware that his son, the Grob, and his nephew, the Bongcloud, are about to do something that will make no theoretical sense at all.
And somehow, this is exactly how chess feels. Because when you choose an opening, you are choosing a personality to become for some time.
So now the question is not which opening is best. The question is: which member of this family are you when you sit at the board? Thanks for reading!
