NIMZO-INDIAN DEFENSE

Douglas asks:

I'm a 12-year-old Class “E” player from Arizona, but I'm quickly improving, and I've had some good tournament results recently so I expect that I'll be at Class “C” or “D” soon when new USCF ratings come out. Anyway, I feel at this time that it is probably appropriate to start learning some opening theory. My question is about the Rubinstein variation of the Nimzo-Indian (1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.e3). Fischer's system (4…b6) is well respected, but it seems that the most theoretically critical variation is: 4…O-O 5.Bd3 d5 6.Nf3 c5 7.O-O Nc6 8.a3 Bxc3 9.bxc3 dxc4 10.Bxc4 Qc7. 

In the Queen's Indian Defense, 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 b6 4.Nc3 just transposes into the Nimzo-Indian after 4…Bb4, and obviously White can transpose into the Rubinstein variation one move later. White has forced black into Fischer's system by using this transposition, however. So, why doesn't White more routinely use the Queen's Indian move order if he is a Rubinstein player, so he can avoid dealing with Black's most popular choice? This is of great importance to me, as my repertoire consists of the Nimzo-Indian/QID against 1.d4, and in addition I'm a 1.d4 player myself.

Silman replies:

Dear Douglas,

Your question is an excellent one. Understanding such transpositions in the openings you employ will serve you well. Let's start with a basic bit of information about the Rubinstein Variation and the Nimzo-Indian in general: In the words of my dear friend John Watson, “The Nimzo equalizes in all lines.” This means that, in most variations, White isn't counting on a definite advantage but rather on a strategically difficult position where the player who is best acquainted with its subtleties has excellent chances of scoring the win. The Rubinstein Variation in particular (1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.e3) promises just that kind of positional complexity and, as a result, is enjoyed by strong players as both White and Black.

Black has many ways to meet the Rubinstein. Your 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.e3 O-O 5.Bd3 d5 6.Nf3 c5 7.O-O Nc6 8.a3 Bxc3 9.bxc3 dxc4 10.Bxc4 Qc7 was often employed by Spassky and was my favorite when I was young. However, it's no longer as popular as it used to be (though of course it's still perfectly sound). Instead, lines like the Hubner Variation (4…c5 5.Bd3 Nc6 6.Nf3 Bxc3+), the Karpov System (1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.e3 O-O 5.Bd3 d5 6.Nf3 c5 7.O-O dxc4 8.Bxc4 cxd4 9.exd4), and various systems with …b7-b6 have stolen its thunder and attracted the attention of many players. 

Your proposed QID move order, leading to a Nimzo via 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 b6 4.Nc3 Bb4 has been played many times, often leading to Nimzo-Indian lines that Black was willing to play anyway (in other words, Black wasn't tricked). However, White is giving up two things by using this order of moves:

Problem One: Nowadays few players are willing to play the Modern Benoni via 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 c5 3.d5 e6 4.Nc3 exd5 5.cxd5 since White's chances are thought to be superior in the Taimanov Variation (5…d6 6.e4 g6 7.f4 Bg7 8.Bb5+). Note that 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 c5 4.d5 leads to the same thing. BUT … quite a few will make use of the Benoni after 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 since now (after 3…c5) White can't push his f-pawn and thus can't play the Taimanov (though Benoni lines with Nf3 can still be quite dangerous for Black).

Problem Two: Many players who allow the Nimzo-Indian and make use of Rubinstein's 4.e3 like to meet some of Black's systems with a quick Nge2 (for example 4…b6 5.Nge2 is a critical White try). Playing the 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 b6 4.Nc3 Bb4 move order takes this possibility away from White.

In conclusion, there is nothing wrong with your proposed move order. It leads to normal, very interesting and rich positions that I've always enjoyed using from either side. Just understand that White is not tricking anyone, and might well find that he himself has been tricked when Black answers 3.Nf3 with 3…c5.

If you are worried about missing out on your Spassky Variation due to this move order, it's no great loss. The lines with …b6 in the Nimzo are completely playable for Black and well worth learning.

CHESS PSYCHOLOGY

Mr. Baran (from Turkey) asks:

I am a reader from Turkey, Istanbul and I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say that I have learned everything about positional chess from your books. However, an issue that isn't dealt with in your books is the psychology of the game.

Due to the heavy workload during the year (I am a bit competitive as a student), I can find time only in summers to play chess (I hope that changes when I start university next year). I am not a club frequenter and having learned to move the pieces at the age of 4, my main encounter with other opponents happens mainly via the Internet. I mostly play with time controls being 2 minutes with 12 seconds per move. The thing that bothers me most is my nerves. As I play, I feel an awful tremor all throughout my body. I get notoriously anxious about the moves I make. I start to think that I haven't calculated enough – that I don't know what's going to happen. As a result, I really lose connection with the position and in time trouble I make gross blunders that give away positionally won (according to me) games.
    
How did you deal with chess anxiety throughout your career? How did great masters such as Alekhine, Botvinnik and Smyslov deal with this? (i.e., What did Botvinnik do to prepare himself psychologically for the title rematch with the wild Tal?). Would playing slower chess help me? Or do you think I should just play casual, unrated games just to break that dread over the chessboard?

Silman replies:

Dear Mr. Baran,

Psychology plays a huge role in tournaments and individual competitor's results. Every top player feels secure about his skills and ability to master most kinds of positions. However, this confidence is usually quite fragile, and a couple bad results can leave even the greatest grandmaster doubting himself. It's interesting to note that when a player begins a tournament badly and is clearly off form, the other players leap on him like sharks to blood. Then, in the next event, that same once-struggling player, having found his balance and regained his confidence, might suddenly be the most feared opponent in the event.

The late grandmaster Edmar Mednis once noticed me hanging pieces in almost every game of a New York Open. I couldn't do anything right and apparently had a huge tattoo of “victim” written right on my forehead. Realizing that I was beaten dog, he pulled me aside and said, “Jeremy, the only cure for a tournament like this is the next tournament.”

I was already well aware of the wisdom of this apparently simple comment. I had “enjoyed” a run of horrible form years earlier (leading to three bad tournaments in a row). My next event was the U.S. Open and my friends feared the worst but, for reasons I can't explain, I went into that tournament full of confidence and ended up tying for first.

Clearly, many factors determine a player's form. His health can be bad, he might be in the middle of a crushing divorce, or any number of other things can affect him in many unfortunate ways. Even chess professionals aren't immune from these distractions. Nevertheless, if a pro has an important event coming up he'll do his best to make sure the chess aspects are taken care of (i.e., correcting any flaws in his opening repertoire, finding the chinks in his opponent's armor, and figuring out ways to handle styles that might have proven annoying to him in the past). All you can do is prepare, play, and hope that outside disturbances don't shoot you down.

At the beginning of my chess career  (from ages 12 to 17) I was always freaked out in the first game of a tournament. As the event progressed, though, I grew calmer. Eventually nerves just vanished – the game became just another day on the job.

Your situation is a bit odd since you seem to be nervous even when playing on-line. It seems to me your problem is one of expectation and of placing more importance on these games than you need to. You have to understand that internet ratings mean absolutely nothing. In fact, what have you got to lose? If you hang a piece and go down in defeat, nobody really cares (you'll be upset for a short time and your opponent might experience a quick ego-spike, but you can't take these things too seriously).

If you look at these games as things that determine your self-worth, then you're in trouble. However, if you look at these games as learning experiences that will help you gain a greater understanding of chess, then you'll find that there's no reason at all to be nervous since the game will serve it's purpose no matter what the result (in fact, losses are often far more valuable than wins!).

I should also add that in most cases you won't know what's going to occur in any particular game – you might not be strong enough to fully understand some really difficult position, or your opponent might play so badly that it's impossible to guess what he'll do next. All you can do is try as hard as you can, and then analyze the game afterwards. Looking over your games will help you see your weaknesses, will help you mend your openings, and will help you improve tactically and strategically. You'll also come to know another universal truth: everyone plays badly. Therefore, there's nothing to be afraid of; most opponents WILL give you a chance to beat them.

I realize that you're competitive and, to be honest, you have to hate losing if you wish to succeed in chess. But hating to lose (with the understanding that most defeats will enrich your understanding of the game) is one thing, and fearing to lose is another. Fear of defeat is what keeps many titled players from greater results, binding them in the grip of expectation.

Your cure: play hard, take every game seriously, but understand that you WILL blunder from time to time, you WILL occasionally get outplayed, and you WILL lose your fair share. Once you convince yourself that you're playing to learn and not to prove anything to anyone, the nerves will vanish.