Chess can intimidate the novice with its complexities but it’s basically a very accessible sport.
Ahead of the Chess World Championship, which begins next week, Jayaditya Gupta decided to try and learn the game (or understand it. for starters). He asked our in-house self-professed ‘expert’ Anirudh Menon to break it down in the simplest way possible.
Here’s how the conversation went:
Jayaditya Gupta: Ok, I don’t have a degree in math and I’m not a science nerd. Is chess really for someone like me?
Anirudh Menon: Absolutely. There’s no math involved (not really), and the only science you need to know is differentiating black and white.
JG: I can manage that. So why is it so closely identified with (tech) nerds?
AM: The nature of the sport lends itself to these stereotypes. It’s not a physical activity on the face of it, and to play it (well), you do need to apply focused concentration for the duration of the game.
So, it’s easy to imagine those hunched over a laptop/PC would be good at hunching over a chess board.
JG: Fair enough. I can imagine a typical working day…So the basic aim is to capture the queen, using the lesser pieces…is that it?
AM: Think a bit more medieval – the aim is to capture the King, for he holds the keys to the kingdom. The Queen is the most powerful weapon in your arsenal to do that — and generally the one piece (apart from the King, of course), that you would target. Get her off the board, while keeping yours, and you become the favourite to win.
JG: Sounds good so far. What role do the lesser pieces play, then?
AM: Let me start with the way the chess pieces move. You have 8 pawns (the line of similar pieces you see at the start of every game). These pawns can move one or two squares a time at the start and then one square (all vertically). They are used generally to hold position, guard more valuable pieces… and (rather morbidly) sacrifice themselves in order to lure the opponent out. Think of the cruel way infantries were/are used by armies in war time.
Behind them are two rooks (or castles) at each end, two knights (the horses) right next to each, two bishops, and the big guns — the queen and the king (so you’ll notice that these two are flanked by one each of bishop, knight and rook.)
The rooks can move any number of squares, vertically or horizontally. The bishops can also move any numbers of squares but only diagonally (so you’ll have one bishop who can only move on black squares, one only on white).
The knights are the most unique weapon you have — they move in an L shape (one square vertical, two horizontal or vice versa) and are the only pieces on the board that can jump over existing pieces. This becomes key when you have well-guarded pieces on the other side.
The Queen and the King are the only two pieces on the chessboard who can move in any direction they choose (horizontal, vertical, or diagonal) but the big difference is the King can move only one square each way, the Queen’s movement is unrestricted.
JG: Ok, while I’m digesting all that, another basic question: where’s the fun in being a pawn, or rook or knight? Can they knock pieces off the board or do they have only a defensive purpose?
AM: Oh, they can knock any piece off the board if you move it the right way. A pawn can take down the King, if need be! * Hello, elephant, meet the fly up your nose. *
Each of the pieces on the board serve two purposes, defending your position and attacking the opponent’s. Like in any sport, going all out aggressive will leave you exposed at the back and going too defensive can leave you toothless at the other end — so it’s up to you whether you use the knight as a Busquets or an Iniesta.
In some instances, you may choose to use the Queen (normally your most potent weapon) as a lure and attempt to trap their King with a combination of the other ‘lesser’ pieces.
JG: All this makes it sound so simple. I’m told there are hundreds (maybe thousands) of permutations and moves that the better players learn?
AM: Ah, that’s the bit that often scares the newbies. Every move you make will have ramifications down the line — a pawn moved on move two could lead to your queen coming under direct attack five moves down the line.
But isn’t that true for any sport? If you’re playing cricket and you’re bowling to a batter — wouldn’t you be aware of all the multiple shots they can play, the different kinds of balls you can bowl at them, the numerous field settings that will be customised to your delivery and to their stroke-making range?
Chess is much like any sport in that way. Where a cricket is a combination of the mental and gaining physical skills, chess asks you to train your brain harder and harder. The act of playing is simple, the art of doing it well involves a deep dive of a different kind.
The deeper you dive into the sport, the more these permutations and combinations will come to you… and the easier it’ll be to learn the ones you see or read about.
JG: I get that. But how do these ridiculously young boys and girls become Grandmasters? What does a 3-year-old even know about strategy and tactics? (Unspoken question: Can I still make the cut or is it too late?)
AM: Well if a three-year old can, why can’t we, eh?
The Chess �� has some words of advice for 3-year-old chess prodigy Anish Sarkar pic.twitter.com/rS69JJLcyt
– ESPN India (@ESPNIndia) November 13, 2024
(A little) more seriously, though, prodigies are easier to come by in chess because the physical demand of games (especially the quick versions) are considerably lower than other sports.
Of course, this doesn’t explain a 3-year-old becoming GM (what an outlier of a human!), but you can see why a 10-year-old can be a world class chess player in a way a 10-year-old could never be in cricket or football. You need a minimum amount of strength, body coordination and stamina to beat an adult in any other sport — the training of the brain can start much earlier. A part of that is down to rote memorization and a part to the ability to suss out situations the more they play (and they can play a lot — a lot more than you could train for a more physical sport).
JG: When you speak of rote memorisation, I can see why I never picked up the game. PTSD from my school years. But I watch Premier League football and a bit of cricket – I can see a lot of similarities there, especially in the football of the past 15 years. Bluff, double-bluff and false positions
AM: Hehehe. That fear can throw off people — but it shouldn’t stop you from trying the sport out! And yes, exactly. You have possession of the ball (your turn on the board), you try to penetrate gaps, create diversions, and get to the King on the other side. When you don’t have possession, you’re calculating what the opponent is up to — why is the bishop moving to that square? What can the knight do from that other square? Who exactly is he targeting?
It sounds imposing… but the more you get into it, the more exciting these imposing-looking number of strategies and permutations and combinations become.
Try a simple trick, for instance — thinking of the pieces as animate objects and you are an ancient general directing their troops hither and thither.
JG: Ok. Channeling my inner Sun Tzu, then. Am off to find the board. See you in a few years!
AM: Remember, “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win”
Go forth and conquer!
