101 Reasons I Hate Chess #66 - 75: Openings and Endings

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.|

66-70. Openings
66. The Bongcloud - Is this some hookah-inspired insanity? And what's the link between this opening and the King of the Hill variant? Is the same potboiled genius responsible for both of these travesties? What were they smoking? "Dam' bunch of hippies," if you ask certain antediluvian types.

67. The Englund Gambit - That bit me once in the most heinous fashion, gathering in my Queen after a vile Bishop check on f2. That particular assault on my sense of propriety never happened again. But I did lose an online tournament game in a far more complex way. Then again, more recently I crushed a 2200+ in an online blitz game on chess.com. That was our first game. He chose not to try that opening again in his next two outings against me as Black. Wisdom often prevails quickly, even in a short blitz match of six games.

68. The Benko Gambit - I hate gambits that are relatively sound. Particularly in an encounter between carbon-based units. Evans Gambit falls into the same category but it would have felt like cheating to use another obvious example of a gambit that hardly constitutes a gambit.

69. The Marshall Gambit - This shouldn't even be called a gambit! Black gets great compensation for the pawn in this Ruy Lopez line. And yes, this is akin to the solidity of the Benko and Evans gambits. So, I changed my mind. Sue me.

70. The Grob - Just the name sounds like some mucousy monster from an H.P. Lovecraft horror tale. I'll leave it at that, and not dissect the other negative attributes of the opening.

71-75. Endings
71. Bishop and Knight versus King 
Well, I've learned this at least four or five times. And still never used it. That reeks. And my memory leaks.

72. Rook and Pawn 
Can't we just call them all draws and move on? Sigh. I know it's important. And I put time into it. But let me step away for a few months and the Vancura position and building a bridge all start to run together in my tiny little noggin. Actually, I wear a 7-3/4 (U.S.) sized hat but all that may suggest is that I have a thick skull. Good for falling objects, but not so good for memory tests.

73. Queens and Pawns
Hah! At least rook and pawns versus rook and pawns is occasionally quite slumbersome. Replace the rooks with queens and suddenly it's a furball on the board. And in #19 we already talked about my love-hate relationship with perpetuals. In these endings, it's a key focus. Whether you're the side desperately seeking a perpetual or the side trying to earn the full point. This is certainly not a restful proceeding if you have a limited amount of time before your next round.

74. Queen versus Rook and Pawns
Sure, I get the gist of it. Grossly oversimplified, create some space between the rook and king so that a series of checks can pick off the hapless rook. Often that requires a collaboration between king and queen to chase the opposing king to an insecure location and create a zugzwang (hated items #20-21) that levers the rook away from the king. Oh. And watch out for #75. Or look for it if you're the side cursed with the rook. Hey, that all sounds simple, right? Right? Sigh. I'm not hearing me.

75. Fortresses
Wait a minute. I thought the castled position was supposed to be a veritable fortress, securing His Majesty against the slings, arrows, and outrageous misfortunes their enemy would heap upon them. Nope, it's an endgame thing. And I one time accepted a draw in a tournament because I was so physically ill that I didn't have the energy (I got put on bed rest when I went to the doctor the next day) to figure out how to break a pseudo fortress of rook and three pawns against my queen and three pawns on the kingside. Then they published it in a Kansas state chess newsletter as a brilliant example of a fortress. "Oh, no", I thought. "This shall not stand." Healthy now, I sent a robust explanation of how the fortress could have been dismantled. Had I been able to focus even a smidgen. They published my rebuttal. I felt better and worse. That draw cost me both money and rating points. Mono sucks.