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Foreword

Draws and draws… Countless draws in chess competitions. They often arise from the nature of our game, when two strong chess masters come to an armistice on the chessboard. More often than not, they are the result of a tense struggle. But those who love the game hate to see bloodless draws, when grandmasters avoid conflicts over the chessboard and, after the first 15 or 20 moves, they conclude peace after having exchanged most of the pieces, or even with many pieces and pawns still on the board. These so-called encounters are unlikely to make any contribution to the wealth of chess history and culture.

Chess fans are demanding and bloodthirsty. They expect to see games full of imagination and risk. They award their favorites with applause when they see beautiful games. Quite often it happens that they applaud draws; but these draws are special draws, when grandmasters exhaust limits of their chess enterprise and bestow on the spectators gems of chess brilliance and prowess. Actually, these are games in which both players are winners because their names intertwine with the beauty of the game. These are games in which you see everything: tactical blows, profound strategic plans and unusual traps involving the combinative talents of the players. In my life I have played quite a few games that were awarded brilliancy prizes for my victories. I am proud of such games. But I am no less proud of those rare games that ended up draws and for which I shared brilliancy prizes with my opponents, or as I call them, my chess colleagues (in other words, those players who created this chess beauty together with me). For instance, I always remember my game with Lev Aronin in the 1957 USSR Championship, that memorable tournament where I won the title of Soviet Champion for the first time in my life.

In this book, my lifelong friend and chess journalist Leonid Verkhovsky considers two kinds of draws. The first one is when combinations, threats, and inexhaustible imagination in defense and attack counterbalance each other. The chess prowess of one player is basically in equilibrium with the mastery of his opponent. Both are playing for a win, both send their chess armies into close combat, and peace sets in on the chessboard when it practically becomes empty after a long and fierce battle. The second type of the draw is what I call a draw “from the position of weakness.” In this case one side wants to win, and the other, although in a difficult position, finds all possible (and impossible!) resources to make a draw. Verkhovsky cites numerous examples of defense in difficult positions. They are drawn from the praxis of world champions and outstanding grandmasters, as well as from the games of lesser-known players. Of special interest is the research made by the author regarding stalemate, that special exception in the rules.

The book is crowned with an interesting chapter in which the author addresses the drawn games of the world’s top players.

I am sure that all those who love and cherish our ancient game will appreciate this wonderful book.

Mikhail Tal

Riga 1972

Introduction

There are very many positions that cannot be actually won even if both chessplayers follow the right course. The most elementary example is when both kings are alone on the chessboard. The initial position, with each side having 16 pieces and pawns, does not guarantee success to either side. We never know if both players want, as they say, to spill blood, and in many cases the game is likely to end up drawn. The history of chess competitions often reveals that sad truth.

(1) Walbrodt – Tarrasch

Dresden 1892

1.e4 e6 2.d4 d5 3.e×d5 e×d5 4.Nf3 Bd6 5.Bd3 Nf6 6.0–0 0–0 7.c3 c6 8.Bg5 Bg4 9.Nbd2 Nbd7 10.Qc2 Qc7 ½-½

Draw?! To tell the truth, two years after this “draw,” the same game between Marco and Berger was played in Leipzig, but the draw was agreed upon after another three moves: 11.Rae1 Rae8 12.Bh4 Bh5 13.Bg3 Bg6. Characterizing such “masterpieces,” Mikhail Chigorin noted with bitter irony: “Great games! Chessplayers travel very far from their countries to “dazzle” the chess world with this extraordinary art!” Only a year later after Chigorin’s death, in his memorial tournament, the following game was played:

(2) Rotlewi – Eljaschoff

St.Petersburg 1909

1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Nc3 Nf6 4.Bb5 Bb4 5.0-0 0-0 6.d3 d6 7.B×c6 B×c3 8.B×b7 B×b2 9.B×a8 B×a1 10.Bg5 Bg4 11.Q×a1 Q×a8 12.B×f6 (D)

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12.B×f3 13.B×g7

White can win after 13.B×e5 B×e4 14.B×g7 B×g2 15.B×f8.

13…B×g2 14.B×f8 B×f1 15.Q×f1 Q×f8 16.Qg2+ Qg7 ½-½

Fearing to break off the symmetry, the players agreed to a draw here. But if the players are all out for blood, then sucha game cannot satisfy anyone. (D)

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(3) Hamppe – Meitner

Vienna 1873

This game, played almost 140 years ago, is a silent reproach to those who make short draws today.

1.e4 e5 2.Cc3 Bc5 3.Ca4

White has violated the basic principle of development in chess, so Black carries out a bishop sacrifice. Nowadays theory recommends 3.Nf3 d6 4.d4 e×d4 5.N×d4 Nc6 6.Be3 N×d4 7.B×d4 B×d4 8.Q×d4 Nf6 9.0–0–0 with a slight edge for White.

3…B×f2+

This is typical 19th century chess!

4.K×f2 Qh4+ 5.Ke3

Stronger is 5.g3 Q×e4 6.Nf3 Q×a4 7.Bh3.

5…Qf4+ 6.Kd3 d5 7.Kc3 Q×e4 8.Kb3 Na6 9.a3 (D)

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It seems that White’s king will find shelter on a2 (after 10.Cc3). But by sacrificing the queen, Black continues the attack.

9…Q×a4+ 10.K×a4 Nc5+ 11.Kb4 a5+!!

This is precise and beautiful!

12.K×c5 Ne7!

Now White’s king is in a mating net. However, he finds magical moves to draw the game.

13.Bb5+ Kd8 14.Bc6 b6+ 15.Kb5 N×c6 16.K×c6 Bb7+ (D)

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This is the final touch!; White cannot accept this gift because after 17.K×b7 Kd7 18.Qg4+ Kd6 White is mated.

17.Kb5 Ba6+ 18.Kc6 Bb7+ ½-½

Incidentally, even in those “days of yore,” when short, bloodless draws were made, chess organizers declared war on them. Moreover, this was applied not only to short draws, but also to all draws in general; they wanted to uproot draws from tournament practice altogether. But very often such methods were ridiculous. For example, in 1834 in London for the match between MacDonnell and LaBourdonnais, the strongest chessplayers of the time, draws were not counted. At the first international tournaments in London, 1851 and in Paris, 1862, draws were replayed. And at the third tournament in Paris in 1867, draws were considered as losses for both chessplayers! It was only in 1870 in Baden-Baden that draws were granted a half-point.

At the big international tournaments in Monte Carlo in 1901 and 1902, the organizer, Prince Dadian Mingrelia, introduced a special system that was supposed to motivate the chessplayers. In case of a draw, both players received a quarter-point, and they had to play another game between the official rounds. The winner received another half-point, for a total of three-quarters of a point for those two games. The loser received only a quarter-point.

However, if the second game was drawn as well, both players received an additional quarter-point. It is notable that in Monte Carlo in 1902, because of such a peculiar “draw” regulation, Pillsbury finished second, a quarter point behind Maróczy, although if the points were counted as they are today, the American master would have been the winner! That tournament was the last in chess history in which quarterpoints were used.

Within a few years, draws were becoming more frequent. In the mid-1890s the chess world became familiar with the name of Carl Schlechter, the young player from Vienna, who was called the “king of draws.” Winning against weaker players, he almost invariably drew his games with the strongest players of the era, and his performance in tournaments was impressive. Schlechter’s chess pacifism became proverbial. True, his contemporaries were joking when they said that Schlechter was always willing to make a draw, but in point of fact draws were largely prevalent in his tournament scores. For instance, in Leipzig, 1894 he drew ten out of 17 games. In Hastings in 1895, he drew nine games in the first ten rounds. In Baden, in 1914 and in 1895, he took third prize, having drawn 14 of 18 games, without a single loss.

Most of Schlechter’s matches were also drawn. Something incredible happened in his match with Marco in 1893: all ten games of the match were drawn! In the second match with Marco, the score was also even. Schlechter drew matches with Janowski, Alapin, and Tarrasch. The most dramatic match in Schlechter’s career, with Emanuel Lasker, was also drawn. In ten games the chess giants made eight draws.

It has to be admitted that Schlechter truly deserved the title of the “king of draws,” although he was a remarkable chess figure and he left an impressive chess heritage.

“Although Schlechter’s draws are part of chess history and chess art, still they were only draws and therefore his influence in the world of chess was considerably reduced, compared with his natural talent and chess strength,” Romanovsky remarked. Many great chess masters of that time followed Schlechter’s chess pragmatism, such as Marco, Teichmann, Tarrasch and others. To quote Rudolf Spielmann, “the ‘draw practice’ reached its climax in the era of Capablanca.” At the beginning of the 20th century, draws in major chess tournaments made up about 50% of the games played.

In 1919 Capablanca put forward his theory that the draw would be the death of chess. His reasoning was that the enhanced defensive technique as well as the possibility of finally using up the stock of strategic ideas would lead to the disappearance of chess as a game. He feared that in the years to come, chess openings would be studied to such an extent that the normal result of the game between top-class grandmasters would be a draw. In the long run, that would kill the interest of both the chess professional and the amateur.

To revitalize interest in the game, Capablanca even proposed reforming chess. He published an article that caused an uproar among the greatest masters, such as Lasker, Nimzovitsch, Tarrasch, Alekhine and Tartakower. Opposing Capablanca, they asserted that chess was still very much alive, though formerly the game had become exhausted. The great tournament in New York in 1924 was a serious blow to Capablanca’s theory. To begin with, for the first time in eight years, Capablanca lost a game. Besides, the percentage of draws in this strong tournament was very low: out of 73 games played, only 37 were draws.

But Capablanca still wanted to prove his theory. In 1929 he played a fourgame match on a special board with Maróczy. The board was 16 squares by 12 and each player had two kings, two queens four rooks, etc. In other words, two sets of chess pieces. The rules corresponded to the ordinary chess game except that the pawn could reach any square of the sixth rank. Although each side had two kings, it was very difficult to give a checkmate. Capablanca won three games and lost one. This match showed that such a game should last 100 moves, that is, two or three times longer than in standard chess. In other words, the duration of such a game would be 12-14 hours. It was most unlikely that anyone could enjoy such a game.

There were other proposals concerning the elimination of draws. Lasker and Réti, for example, suggested that a full point should be given for a checkmate, while five-eighth of a point should be the reward for forcing a stalemate, etc. Tournament organizers sought various ways of eliminating the draws. In the early 1920s, the rule of 30 moves was tried. The participants of tournaments were forbidden to draw before the 30th move. This stipulation was often employed, such as in the major tournaments in Moscow (1925), Bad Kissingen (1928) and Moscow (1935 and 1936). It was adopted at the FIDE congress in Switzerland in 1962.

However, two years later it was cancelled by another FIDE congress. It was valid at the zonal tournaments in Moscow and other cities, as well as at the 16th chess Olympiad in Bulgaria. It was, however, there in Bulgaria where the “30-move rule” suffered a terrible setback in the match Bulgaria-USA. Grandmasters Padevsky and Fischer made a very quick draw. Salo Flohr, who was the chief arbiter of the Olympiad, was adamant. “Bobby,” he asked the American champion, “do you know that you are allowed to make draws before the 30th move only with the permission of the arbiter?” As recounted by Frank Brady in Profile of a Prodigy (David McKay 1973), Bobby immediately shot back: “Those rules are for the Communist cheaters, not for me.” What was Flohr supposed to do? Was he to enforce the law, that is, forfeit the players? Later, Tal was quite explicit about the situation: “If players do not want to continue the game, they will always find a way to ‘violate’ the 30-move rule!”

Hopefully, the readers will not think that the author prefers draws in chess. But if they read the whole book carefully, they will understand that the games and examples cited here have greatly contributed to the game of chess and its progress!

Leonid Verkhovsky

September 2014