Chess History in a Nutshell 118 – Two memorable games from my career
This is the final episode of this long-running video series, titled "Understanding before Moving." As I will be retiring in a few days, I’ve decided to bring this weekly series to a close.
On the one hand, I regret stopping it, as I’ve always enjoyed producing these videos. On the other hand, this decision is also partly out of necessity. After contracting a COVID infection in January 2023, I’ve been struggling with low energy levels, which makes it difficult to continue the series in a consistent way.
That said, this doesn’t mean you’ll be rid of me entirely. On the contrary, in consultation with the core ChessBase team—especially Pascal Simon and Johannes Fischer, with whom I’ve developed an excellent relationship over time—I’ll begin working on other video projects that I can produce at a more manageable pace.
The series originally began with a focus on helping club players improve their strategic understanding. Over time, I shifted towards a broader theme: the history of chess. You might ask, "Aren’t there already too many of those?" And yes, there are—but my approach rested on two key pillars:
What can we learn strategically from the old masters?
Can we connect ancient games with modern grandmaster practice?
Throughout the series, I aimed to “translate” classical principles into modern terms, applying contemporary engines to historic games. This occasionally led to the refutation of once-revered ideas, but I always tried to respect and preserve the brilliance of human creativity by reinterpreting those concepts within a new framework.
For this final video, I’d like to share a few excerpts from my own games. Like everyone else, I’ve faced my share of disappointments, but my love for the game has always triumphed over painful defeats. And when I’ve occasionally managed to produce a “masterpiece”—one that even earns the approval of colleagues—it brings a deep sense of satisfaction.
Out of approximately 1,000 classical-time-control games of mine in the MegaDatabase, I’ve selected two that were awarded beauty prizes in their respective tournaments.
The second game I’ll show is against the late IM Leon Pliester from Amsterdam. He was a resourceful and unpredictable opponent, and I knew I was in for a challenge in this game—played during the qualification tournament for the Dutch Championship in 1981. That I managed to qualify, in part due to this game, came as a huge surprise—even to myself. Suddenly, I found myself playing as a complete outsider in a closed 14-player round-robin in Leeuwarden, facing the top Dutch players, including Jan Timman.
The game ended in a kind of positional zugzwang with a full board, and some media outlets even compared it to the famous Sämisch–Nimzowitsch zugzwang game. Personally, I think that’s a bit too much honor—but naturally, I was delighted with the beautiful move I played, which, as it turns out, still gets the approval of Stockfish 17 in 2025. 😉
The first game in this video was against a strong FM, Wieb Zagema, who once had a 2400+ rating. He was known as one of the most dangerous attacking players in the Netherlands, with a sharp eye for tactics. Ending up in a tactical battle against him wasn’t quite what I had envisioned, but after a misstep and with only 10 minutes left on my clock, I managed to conjure up the most insane move I’ve probably ever played.
Not only did that move save the game—it also created a rarely seen 3×3 square in the corner of the board, where nine pieces (six white, three black) held each other in a dynamic and delicate balance. What started as a quiet board soon drew a crowd of players and spectators, eager to witness the conclusion of this wild, time-scramble-filled encounter. The final phase even shifted to the other side of the board, adding to the drama.
The audience watched in disbelief at what unfolded.
So, fasten your seatbelts and see what happened.
In the diagram position below, Black completely missed White’s last move (29.Rb2–f2), which now threatens the knight on f3 with 30.Rxf3. With about one minute left on the clock for White (no increment) and roughly ten minutes for Black on the clock, Black needed to find a brilliant move to stay in the game. After thinking for 8 or 9 minutes, he found the answer—just in time.
And it wasn’t just a save. In fact, the move eventually turned out to be winning.
Can you find it?
This week’s show (for Premium Members only)
| Advertising |
