Budapest, 2022, early morning. The cold bit right through me as I pressed down the handle to enter the building where the match would be. As I stepped into the playing hall, I politely greeted my teammates and the opposing team, exchanged the usual tournament pleasantries, and then went on a hunt to find my board. The mission was successful, so I happily put my Snickers (not a paid ad), water and pen on the table, and my coat on the chair behind me.
Once I sat down, I adjusted the little people that would fight a long battle for me that day. Filling out the scoresheet was a little challenge, as always. I ace it when it comes to my name and event, but somehow the date and round always test my memory. This time, my opponent’s identity was another little mystery. In Hungarian Team Championships, this information is usually not revealed until the last moment. I had narrowed it down to three or four possibilities, but I still had no idea who would eventually sit across from me. The guessing game ended when they arrived.
“Oh hi Fruzsi! Long time no see, how are you doing? It’s been ages!”
“Hey! Right, it’s been a while. I’m doing good, thanks. What about you?”
“I’m fine too! Do you remember we used to play in the same tournaments as kids? Do you still play chess regularly?”
“Haha, I remember! Yes, I still do. How about you?”
“Ah, me? No, not at all. I only play in these team events. I completely forgot how to play chess. I’m sure you’ll have an easy game and beat me.”
Hmm, interesting. I usually take these kinds of comments with a grain of salt. Trying to be kind, I said:
“Nice of you to say, but you’re a good player! I don’t think it’ll be an easy game. :)”
“No, I really mean it! You’re so much better, I’m just an amateur. You’ll win.”
Alright then. I supposed there wasn’t much point in continuing to convince this person otherwise, so I let it go. But I was genuinely curious whether their actions on the board would match their words.
“You may start the clock! Good luck!” — said the arbiter, cutting our chitchat short.
We locked eyes, exchanged a firm handshake, and made the first move.
My opponent respectfully resigned by offering a handshake. After the match, nothing was said, so we gathered our things and went on with our day.
Although this particular story started before the clocks were running, distractions can occur during a game as well, whether we play online or offline.
The problem is when we start trying to make sense of these things in the middle of the game — the very time when our attention is supposed to be on chess.
Why did they look surprised? Why are they playing so quickly? Did they prepare something? Are they trying to trick me or annoy me?”
Truth be told, we probably have no idea. Maybe they’re having a bad day. Maybe they take ages on a move because their partner is lashing out at them right now for not taking out the trash earlier. Maybe they really are staring at you to unsettle you. Maybe they aren’t doing anything consciously at all, just trying to play a game in a way that feels right for them at the moment.
As long as we’re busy with these thoughts, we are not concentrating on our position. That’s exactly how we can end up blundering a Queen or missing a winning combination.
One thing I’ve realized over the years is that it’s perfectly fine not to know. Not every mystery needs to be solved, especially in the middle of a chess game.
During a game, most of us already have multiple useful and useless things competing for attention: candidate moves, what to eat for lunch, the clock, our opponent’s ideas, Randomchuk got on our nerves at work again, previous mistakes, the result we want, and so on. It’s often already hard not to wander off mentally. We don’t need to add decoding our opponent’s intentions to that list as well.
When I feel myself getting distracted by anything while playing, I gently try to bring my focus back to chess with related questions. It could be anything from “Which opening line am I expecting?” or “How would I evaluate this position?” to “What are some possible tactics here?” or “What was my opponent’s threat?” or even “What was my plan again?”.
Anything that takes you back to the actual position could work, even if you have already gone through these thoughts earlier. The point is simply to redirect your attention from whatever happened back to the game in front of you and give your brain something more useful to work on.
This way, even if your opponent was attempting to fool you, they wouldn’t succeed. And if they weren’t, then you didn’t fool yourself either. :)
So was my opponent that morning genuinely being modest, trying to trick me, or simply making conversation? Maybe they didn’t even think twice about what they were saying. No idea. But you know what? It was completely irrelevant to the game. I didn’t have to know. The board gave me all the information I needed.
Have you ever had an opponent who consciously or unconsciously tried to influence you before the game? How did it affect you? How did it affect your result?
If you’re looking for more personalized help with your chess, you can find information about my coaching HERE. :)