I probably shouldn't comment, as I was never able to solidify an expert rating. I was up and down, over and under 2000, back in the 90s, when I played OTB (over the board) chess at standard time controls. Then life happened, as it does, and I doubt I will ever be back over 2000 for more than a few tournaments at best. A few things stick out though, from the time when I was there, almost.
Tactics, tactics, tactics. My faithful companion was my cover-fell-off, worn and dog-eared copy of Reinfeld's 1001 Brilliant Chess Sacrifices and Combinations. I would thumb through it and pick a starting place at random and do 2 to 5 pages as my daily warm up. Like stretching before a run. Today, the choices are incredible. Choose something and be happy.
Pick a role model and study, study, study. Especially a player who had an opening repertoire that was similar to my own. Couple that study of a specific player and his treatment of the openings I played with an overview of historic development of the theory of an opening, and a sharp eyed familiarity with recent developments in that opening, and I had a recipe for success. At least at the club level of play.
I've been rather fickle here. I would pick a player based on one or three games that I admired, from openings that I played at that time, and would for a time study that player's games looking mostly at those openings. But sooner or later I would look at the other players with over-lapping repertoires, and the differences in treatments and evaluations, then how they would treat the other openings they would play, and I became aware of another secret:
Expand your opening repertoire. Don't be afraid to learn new things, to discover new territory. Build, as much as you can, on what you know; but don't be afraid to go into unfamiliar territory. Be willing to explore. Some of my biggest increases in understanding (and subsequent rating gains) came when I decided to change my opening repertoire, play something different, and understand as best I could the new middlegame and endgame positions that arose from the new openings. Diversity = broadening one's knowledge base.
Last, the endgame. Late in the 90s, I bought a copy of Levenfish and Smislov's Rook Endings. Also a few other books about endgames, but the one that helped me was L&S Rook Endings. for some reason I connected with it. (There's something to be said about the right book at the right time with the right reader, but that's another topic for another day) It got me to face up to a glaring weakness in my play, and to appreciate what was there. To be fair, many good endgame lessons were to be found in the games I had already study, study, studied of my favourite players. If I had paid attention, I might have learned more along the way. But sometimes you have to focus on specific aspects, and that has not always been my strength.
And perhaps that should be the last word. Look to your strengths, and to your weaknesses. Study and play to practice what you want to learn. And people like me, who are so quick to tell you what they have learned and how: well, we mean well; but your path is your own, so choose what works for you and disregard the rest. Good chess.
Tactics, tactics, tactics. My faithful companion was my cover-fell-off, worn and dog-eared copy of Reinfeld's 1001 Brilliant Chess Sacrifices and Combinations. I would thumb through it and pick a starting place at random and do 2 to 5 pages as my daily warm up. Like stretching before a run. Today, the choices are incredible. Choose something and be happy.
Pick a role model and study, study, study. Especially a player who had an opening repertoire that was similar to my own. Couple that study of a specific player and his treatment of the openings I played with an overview of historic development of the theory of an opening, and a sharp eyed familiarity with recent developments in that opening, and I had a recipe for success. At least at the club level of play.
I've been rather fickle here. I would pick a player based on one or three games that I admired, from openings that I played at that time, and would for a time study that player's games looking mostly at those openings. But sooner or later I would look at the other players with over-lapping repertoires, and the differences in treatments and evaluations, then how they would treat the other openings they would play, and I became aware of another secret:
Expand your opening repertoire. Don't be afraid to learn new things, to discover new territory. Build, as much as you can, on what you know; but don't be afraid to go into unfamiliar territory. Be willing to explore. Some of my biggest increases in understanding (and subsequent rating gains) came when I decided to change my opening repertoire, play something different, and understand as best I could the new middlegame and endgame positions that arose from the new openings. Diversity = broadening one's knowledge base.
Last, the endgame. Late in the 90s, I bought a copy of Levenfish and Smislov's Rook Endings. Also a few other books about endgames, but the one that helped me was L&S Rook Endings. for some reason I connected with it. (There's something to be said about the right book at the right time with the right reader, but that's another topic for another day) It got me to face up to a glaring weakness in my play, and to appreciate what was there. To be fair, many good endgame lessons were to be found in the games I had already study, study, studied of my favourite players. If I had paid attention, I might have learned more along the way. But sometimes you have to focus on specific aspects, and that has not always been my strength.
And perhaps that should be the last word. Look to your strengths, and to your weaknesses. Study and play to practice what you want to learn. And people like me, who are so quick to tell you what they have learned and how: well, we mean well; but your path is your own, so choose what works for you and disregard the rest. Good chess.
