Chess.com is a great site. Obviously, right? I mean, if not, we'd all be free-for-alling it over at some lame games site like Yahoo or Pogo. But in all seriousness: This site is exceptional for a number of reasons. The dedication to chess is incredible, but so is the atmosphere, too. This site more than any other has given me the chance to meet some great people and share some pretty cool ideas over a (virtual) chess board. This story emerged from one such interaction.
After posting my first blog here, I was introduced to a guy (virtually-)named peterwaffles. From a ratings perspective, he and I seem to be fairly different; what I noticed about him, though, was that his dedication is immense - moreso than mine, probably. He's always telling me about training he's doing or lessons he's reading, and I always respond that with such dedication, he very well could be the next big thing. I love people who devote themselves to their hobbies, so I immediately took a liking to the guy. As such, we had to play a game.
Below, you'll see my annotated version of the blunder that ensued. Check his page, too: He annotated it as well.
Now friends, let me share: That was embarrassing. Not because of any perception I had about Mr. Waffles - I thought (and still think) that he's an incredible player and that his rating doesn't even begin to describe his actual prowess over the board. And similarly, it has nothing to do with my own (lack of) skill - my rating is barely in the intermediate range and is hardly something to brag about. By and large, it was embarrassing because of my own mental deficiency. You see, I'd been training - A LOT - and I'd been winning - A LOT - and I was about 90% sure that my days of missing obvious moves and making rookie blunders was well behind me. Boy, was I wrong, and hence the title of this blog.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
I consider the two of us to be friends at this point - we chat a lot and we enjoy a lot of laughs together - so out of a bit more than etiquette, we both agreed to a rematch. Now I was really nervous: After all, I'd have a difficult time justifying my rating to myself if I continued to lose day-in and day-out. So I buckled down, played a bit better, and had the following outcome:
That game was a better one for me. I made sure not to fall into obvious traps and made doubly sure to analyze every position two or three times as long as seemed necessary. And sure - a win never hurts - but I think my loss was good for me, as it reminded me of the importance of mental toughness and of the necessity to take every situation as one that could shatter your reality in the blink of an eye.