The Rise of Chess Prodigies: A Dream, A Burden, A Question

Looking at the young kids today—breaking records, winning titles, and rewriting history—you can’t help but be in awe.

Prodigies like Faustino Oro, who became the youngest International Master in history at just 10 years and 8 months; Yağız Kaan Erdoğmuş, the youngest player to cross the 2600 Elo mark and now a Grandmaster at 12; or Rameshbabu Praggnanandhaa, once a prodigy himself and now a top-5 player in the world—they make the impossible look routine.

And then there’s Gukesh D., the reigning FIDE World Chess Champion, who at 18 became the youngest ever to hold the classical title. His victory wasn’t just a personal triumph—it was a seismic shift in the chess world.

Did You Ever Wish You Were a Prodigy?

I know I did. My brother and I used to dream about it back in high school—imagining what it would be like to sit across from legends, to feel the weight of the clock ticking, to chase immortality on 64 squares.

But what does it really take to become a chess prodigy?

The Anatomy of a Prodigy

• Talent is the spark—but it’s not enough.

• Parental guidance is often the engine behind the scenes.

• Financial support—from sponsors, federations, or private donors—is critical.

• Tournament access and international exposure shape a young player’s growth.

• The right environment, both at home and within a local chess community, fosters motivation and consistency.

• Coaches are invaluable. They help shape intuition, refine strategy, and develop psychological resilience—not just the opening repertoire.

• School support (or flexibility) is often overlooked. Academic institutions that accommodate or even promote chess pursuits can be make-or-break for young players.

Mentorship has always played a pivotal role in shaping champions. Former World Champion Garry Kasparov was a student of Mikhail Botvinnik, the sixth World Chess Champion and founder of the legendary Soviet chess school. Known as “The Patriarch”, Botvinnik mentored a generation of elite players, including Anatoly Karpov and Vladimir Kramnik, laying the foundation for Soviet dominance in chess.

In modern times, Viswanathan Anand, five-time World Champion and widely regarded as the “Grandfather of Indian Chess”, has carried that torch forward. Through the WestBridge Anand Chess Academy (WACA), Anand has mentored a new generation of Indian prodigies, including D. Gukesh, R. Praggnanandhaa, Nihal Sarin, R. Vaishali, and Raunak Sadhwani. His academy, much like Botvinnik’s, is not just about teaching moves—it’s about shaping minds.

Yet even with all that, a deeper question remains: Is the path of prodigious excellence always the same as the path to personal fulfillment?

The Hidden Cost: Burnout and Balance

Burnout is real. A 2023 study in Frontiers in Psychology found that elite youth chess players often experience emotional exhaustion, especially when their identity becomes tied to performance.

Balancing school and chess is another tightrope. Some, like Gukesh, left formal education early. Others juggle both—often at the cost of sleep, social life, or mental health.

At what point does the pursuit of greatness begin to consume the child behind the rating? Is it fair to ask so much of someone so young? And perhaps more hauntingly: If your entire identity is shaped by winning—what remains when the victories stop?

The Endgame

Not every prodigy becomes a world champion. Not every champion remains one.

But maybe the value lies not just in the titles—but in the journey. The discipline. The resilience. The beauty of the game itself.

So to every dreamer, every former child who once imagined being a chess prodigy: Maybe the dream wasn’t about becoming the next Fischer or Carlsen.

Maybe it was about discovering who you are when no one’s watching. Who are you when you’re no longer the chosen one? What does success truly mean—and who defines it?