Check.... Checkmate!

I applaud television shows for trying to include chess in some of their stories. I really do. In the past, I couldn't stand it, because the directors took so little care in setting it up. The board would be set up wrong, or what the players were saying wouldn't correspond with the moves on the board. But worst of all was the same horrible trope that appeared in every television show which featured chess. I'm sure you've seen it. One character makes a move, and in as smarmy and satisfied a manner he can muster, announces "Check!" triumphantly, as if putting someone in check was any big deal.

The second player muses, looks over the board, then casually makes a move, smiles and responds "checkmate!" to the stunned surprise of Mr. Smug.

Such a sequence, which probably occurred in every in television show with a chess scene prior to 1990 or so, is almost completely impossible. A player in check is not permitted by the rules of chess to do anything but get out of check. Such a sequence requires a player to make a move which simultaneously gets him out of check and puts the other player in checkmate. A move that blocks the check would not be sufficient, as the player who called check could simply capture that piece to escape. It would have to be a move that simultaneously blocks the check and uncovers an unstoppable check by another piece. This is so unlikely that most amateur chessplayers could not achieve it if they were allowed to put the pieces WHEREVER THEY WANTED. (Go ahead, try it. I'll wait.)


Fortunately, modern audiences and show creators are a little more sophisticated, and now they usually follow the much more intelligent choice of stealing real games from history to allow their characters to wow us with their acumen. Unfortunately, this still does not quite work. Actors and directors may try their hardest, but unless you know chess, it's extremely difficult to get the timing down.
In the Season 3 West Wing episode, "Hartsfield's Landing," President Bartlett and Toby engage in a friendly game of chess. After three moves, Bartlett observes with interest that Toby is playing the Evans Gambit. Unfortunately, it does not become an Evans gambit until five or so moves later. The showrunners clearly found an Evans Gambit game, but any chessplayer watching would know that the actors were following a script.

Last season on the Mentalist, in the Episode "18-5-4," they took a crack at chess, and did a pretty good job of it -- if you're not a player. (I couldn't embed the video, but if you'd like to follow along, someone has captured it for YouTube here:)

Mentalist Chess Game


Simon Baker as Patrick Jane makes a convincing blindfold chess master, but he too, screws up the timing. Early in the game, Jane says, "declining the gambit, interesting." Unfortunately, the game doesn't become a Queens Gambit Declined until d4, the move FOLLOWING Jane's statement. After Be7, Jane smiles knowingly and says "mmm, your funeral," despite the fact that this is an extremely safe move. After his next move, Bg5,he says "mind your queen," despite the fact that his opponent's queen is protected by two pieces. Finally, later on, the opponent says to Jane "Q to e7, taking your bishop." Again, Simon Baker does a great job of looking intrigued by the move. Unfortunately, it's the only move that doesn't lose immediately, and is not very intriguing at all.

Again, Baker cannot be blamed. The producers could have had a chess player screen the episode and he would have found these things instantly. And again, I applaud the effort. But for those producers out there thinking about trying to seamlessly include chess in an episode, be warned: You haven't quite gotten there yet.

FYI, the game that Jane and Bunting play is Fischer Spassky Game 6 from the 1972 World Chess Championship. For chess geeks, I've included the entire game here (The moves in bold are the ones actually played on screen):

1. c4 e6 2.Nf3 d5 3.d4 Nf6 4.Nc3 Be7 5.Bg5 O-O 6.e3 h6 7.Bh4 b6 8.cxd5 Nxd5 9.Bxe7 Qxe7 10.Nxd5 exd5 11.Rc1 Be6 12.Qa4 c5 13.Qa3 Rc8 14.Bb5 a6 15.dxc5 bxc5 16.O-O Ra7 17.Be2 Nd7 18.Nd4 Qf8 19.Nxe6 fxe6 20.e4 d4 21.f4 Qe7 22.e5 Rb8 23.Bc4 Kh8 24.Qh3 Nf8 25.b3 a5 26.f5 exf5 27.Rxf5 Nh7 28.Rcf1 Qd8 29.Qg3 Re7 30.h4 Rbb7 31.e6 Rbc7 32.Qe5 Qe8 33.a4 Qd8 34.R1f2 Qe8 35.R2f3 Qd8 36.Bd3 Qe8 37.Qe4 Nf6 38.Rxf6 gxf6 39.Rxf6 Kg8 (for some reason, here the show threw in "...f4," which is impossible and I can only assume they did it so that they could have a more convincing version of the "check...checkmate!" moment, since the game is pretty much lost by black at this point) 40.Bc4 Kh8 41.Qf4 (mate in 3 moves sounds better, but it's actually mate in seven ... 41. Qg8 42. Rf8 Re8 43. Qf6+ Rg7 44. e7 Rb8 45. Bd3 Rxf8 46. exf8(Q) Qxf8 47. Qxf8+ Rg8 48. Qxh6)

Why is Theory Different from Practice?

Many poker players deep in their hearts believe that they are stronger players than their results would indicate. Now, poker "experts" will mockingly chalk this up to an excess of ego or some fundamental misunderstanding of the game, but in fact it is much more complicated than this. We find the same misattribution in chess, where rated players will often overestimate their "strength" as being several hundred points higher than their rating, attributing the differential to some flaw in the rating system.

There is a good reason for this, having nothing to do with ego or misunderstanding of the game. Many poker players, probably even the majority of regular players, understand basic concepts like hand selection, pot odds and opponent playing styles quite well. However, when they get into a game, something strange happens. They start making calls that they know they shouldn't, they play hands that they would laugh off as garbage in any kind of poker forum analysis, they find themselves mechanically pushing chips into the pot on a draw even though they know the odds are against them.

Again, lest we feel this is merely a poker phenomenon, remember that the same thing happens in chess. Players capable of sparkling post-game analysis find themselves in tournament games falling into the basest of traps, making the most fundamental of blunders and even forgetting elements of basic theory.

I'm sure this same phenomenon occurs across many fields, from acting to golf to surgery (hopefully a problem with that last skill is weeded out in the medical school stage). So what is it? Is it merely the pressure of "playing for keeps?"

Put simply, the answer is yes. When an individual is put in a stressful situation, which we can define as a situation in which the outcome matters, the fight or flight response occurs. Adrenaline floods the system, the brain chemistry changes, one becomes, quite literally, a different person. Some of the physiological stress responses include:

Tunnel vision

Hearing loss

Accelerated reflexes

Accelerated heart and lung action

Tunnel vision and accelerated reflexes may be great for escaping predators or even driving towards a basketball hoop, but they suck for seeing a four move mating trap that capturing that knight will get you into, or deciding whether it's correct to draw at that nut flush draw to win a $4000 pot.

The point here is that poker players and chess players whose results do not match up with their perceived ability should not beat themselves up for "just screwing up" when the pressure is on. The pressure makes a real, physiological difference.

So how does one overcome such a problem, a problem seen in all walks of life? (Take for example, the issue of romance. It's a common trope that the guys who do the best with women are the ones that are "cool," that "don't seem to care" whether they get the girl or not. It's not so much that they don't care as that they don't let that caring change their brain chemistry the way other very eligible but less successful bachelors might.) One way is to find areas that your brain does not perceive as stressful and try to excel at those. The problem with this is that if your brain doesn't perceive obtaining a particular result as a stressful undertaking, it probably isn't that important to you.

The other is to simply put yourself in these situations over and over again until they become so common that your brain no longer percieves them as stressful. How many situations will be required will be different for each person, but this, in large part I think, is the true "benefit of experience."

Alcohol and/or drugs may be an option too, but the action of these on the brain is unpredictable and may not have the desired effect. Also the threats of addiction and health problems are probably not a worthwhile exchange for the positive benefits.

So what are the useful applications of this analysis?

The first is that practice (in the sense of preparation for a meaningful activity, not in the sense of its application, as in the title of this post) is most effective if something is really at stake: The trick is finding a form of practice that has this characteristic while still being classifiable as "practice." This may mean a chess tournament among friends where the prize is a week of possession of a coveted item, such as a jointly owned plasma television, or a weekly poker tournament where players earn points based on their finish and at the end of the year, the highest point winner is put into the WSOP main event (20 players putting in $10 a week for 50 weeks will produce the $10,000 required. $10 is hardly prohibitive but the reward is tangible).

The second is an understanding of the meaning of experience. Performing badly when you know you could do better is not a personal failing, not a fault of character or intelligence. It is simply a lack of the amount of experience needed to train your brain not to shift into "stress mode."

Hope that makes you feel better.