101 Reasons I Hate Chess #47 - 65: The Pieces
This is all about love and hate. And where they intersect in my chess. And sometimes bisect.
We won't talk about everything chess. But we will give brief shoutouts to the following: Players, Bloggers & Streamers; Game Ending Conclusions; How to Improve at Chess; The Pieces; Openings; Endings; Variants that use a Standard Board; Variants that use Nonstandard Boards; and finish with Clocks and Time Controls.
The Pieces
His Royal Highness, Master of All He Surveys
47-50. His Majesty, the King
47. Kings--meh. Perhaps neither complex, nor necessarily interesting. Yet we tremble when they sniffle on the board, fearing it is the onset of some pathological infestation of the enemy into our Liege's environs. So, we attempt to protect them. And it's not like Stratego™ where we can plant hidden mines. Not to mention the fact that on our 64 squares (more on that number later in this series) the enemy sees Our Highness from move one--no hiding Him.
48. Aron Nimzowitsch, who I find highly quotable, had something profound to say about the fluctuating nature of the King. "In the middlegame, the king is merely an extra, but in the endgame, he is one of the star actors." Sure. Wait until it's safe to venture out. That's what we expect from our leaders. Well...it is in chess, I guess. Usually. But strikes me as a bit cowardly. No way to win at King of the Hill, that's for certain sure! Was the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz perhaps based on a chess king? Nah! That's a thought run too far amok.
49. And another Aron aphorism: "Even the laziest King flees wildly in the face of a double check!" Lazy. That's the word I focus on. Seems they all too often lollygag in the center and the rest of the team has to pay the price in the form of an early return to the dark confines of the box. Or, even worse, a bag. Banging not just into each other, but the guys who they met in battle on the board.
50. I still hate the fact that in one of the "innovations" of modern chess they took away the ability of the King to make one Knight move per game. I ask you, how is that hop different from castling? Sure, it covers a few more squares and would occur in that awkward, frog-footed fashion of your typical mounted cavalrymen, but dam' that would be fun to see on the board.
Her Royal Highness, Death's Powerful Consort
51-52. Her Majesty, the Queen
51. Awfully flighty. They dash hither and yon, creating great fear, but sensitive to the lash of any importunate suitor who approaches them without welcome. I'm shocked at how often they find Their Royal Selves in a pickle, trapped in some misbegotten trap. After all, "What transpires, Caissa?" As a goddess, a Thracian dryad, one would think thou disposed to smile most favorably on this singularly striking representation of thy divine self on the 64 squares of the board. Or is it that your expectations are higher for one molded, though to a lesser mortal degree, in thy image?
52. "It’s like chess, you know. The Queen saves the King." Terry Pratchett, The Shepherd's Crown, part of the Discworld themed stories. I put this in here because I am so disappointed that I don't own this book. Plus, it has a chess quote. And I love Terry Pratchett's work. But hate him because he writes so well in a genre I love.
Put the two of us together and we are unstoppable!
53-54. The Roooook, aka Elephant, aka Tower, aka Hogs on the Seventh...but don't call me Castle
53. Why couldn't Jeremy Silman have talked about "raging rhinos, rampaging on rear ranks" instead of "hogs on the 7th"? It's so much more evocative for me. And quite alliterative. Not to mention that the sixth and eighth ranks can be just as effective as the seventh. I have a wonderful example. But just so that you'll get this whole love-hate relationship at a personal level, or perhaps simply because I have a petty soul, I shall withhold it.
54. Just kidding. But to keep this blog under 101 pages here's a link to a blog that has a nice game with Rooks on the 7th and then the 6th ranks. Go to Analyze with KIMPLODES! L = Lines, scroll down to the endgame section, and look at the diagrams and game for Trifunovic, Petar - Rellstab, Ludwig Sr, Olympiad-11 Final A, 1954.09.23. Which should leave you semi-hating me for making you go someplace else to satisfy your curiosity. SUCCESS! Well, of a peculiar sort. Satire, sarcasm and humor aren't necessarily my strongest suits.
Good? Bad? Or just semantics?
55-58. His Eminence, the Bishop, color-coded cleric confined to 32 squares
55. Only good half the time
I mean, c'mon, after all they are limited to half the board. Except in hexagonal chess where they are confined to approximately one third of the 91 squares that comprise the board. That's a second reason to hate Bishops, but we cover that configuration later in this seemingly endless blog. Anyway, back to le sujet du moment (or so the online translator indicated), how could you love a piece that is useless on such a large percentage of the board. On the other hand, opposite color Bishops do offer intriguing attacking opportunities. Hmm.
56-58. Bad Bishops
First, they tell you that if your central pawns are on the same color squares as one of your Bishops, then you have a bad Bishop. Second, they add that it is even worse if that bad Bishop is stuck behind its own pawn chains. But THEN...wait for it...they tell you that sometimes a bad Bishop is really very good. Even it all it is doing is acting like a giant pawn. Finally, just when you've come to terms with that, you find a game where a Bishop is not only bad, but it is trapped on h8 by enemy pawns on f6 and g5, with an enemy h-pawn ready at a moment's notice to extend that chain by playing h4. So, you might think that White is effectively playing a piece up. But, NO!! Turns out that Bishop sitting on h8 is just fine. And can eventually sacrifice itself on f6 while maintaining equality on the board both prior to and after the sac. So, if you don't hate all this contradictory advice and sage wisdom, then perhaps this satire is not for you. 😉
Here's the game with the buried Bishop on h8. I don't want to offer you an extra reason to love-hate this blog because I mentioned a specific game but then did not show it.
59-60. The Knight: None shall pass! But I leap blithely over thee all!!
59. Knights on the Rim are Grim
There are some fanciful legends surrounding medieval knights. One legend found them mounted for combat on their destrier and discussed the danger of going to close to the edge of the list, the jousting field. Apparently, that was a parlous location where demons lurked. As for me, I'll discount those legends and assume it is like wrestling. Step out of the circle and you are penalized, perhaps even forfeited. Lucky for our chess Knight above that he cannot step over the edge, eh!!
60. Location, location, location: It's all about the real estate
Put a pair of Knights next to each other near the center of the board and they can dominate. Put a Knight on the side of the board, and it may find itself distraught, deprived of the ability to safely move. Well, until the 21st century. Now Knights grin on the rim, ecstatic to explore this realm. Unless dominated by some other piece. Heck, even a King can dominate and win a Knight unfortunate to find itself in a corner with the enemy King controlling the only two squares the Knight can reach. So. Which is it?
61-65. The Pawn Who Would be Queen (with apologies to Rudyard Kipling's novel of similar name)
61. Talk about social climbers! The minimum promotion they will accept is to the knighthood or as a member of the church hierarchy!
62. Sure, it may provide support to an outpost for one of your pieces. But every advance seems to leave a hole behind it. Sometimes two holes. Until your King's battlements more closely resemble Swiss cheese. Or a rusted through pickup truck on cinder blocks next to the abandoned trailer in your neighbor's back yard.
63. Salacious little critters. Why else would Nimzowitsch have talked about their "lust to expand." Does that mindset really have a place in the cloistered confines of the Royal Game. (I snicker while writing this. And not the candy bar which would require a trademark symbol. But this snicker was satisfying.)
64. Dismal, frowzy creatures those isolated pawns. Nimzowitsch stated that they "cast gloom over the entire chessboard."
65. When I was a yewt (at least, that's what it sounded like when Vinny Gambini (Joe Pesci) used the word "youth" in the movie My Cousin Vinny) I thought that once I won a pawn, I was guaranteed to win the game. Sigh, that is so not true. But I probably won a lot of games just because I was so confident I would win. Then experience crept in. And my results have declined ever since with the advent of experience. I hate that. But console myself with the thought the quality of my opponents has increased. Sure. Then I remember that it's possible to rationalize anything. That's why we use logic to explain decisions we've already made based on emotions.
