“There’s no remorse like the remorse of chess” ~HG Wells
Every experienced player has had devastating losses. 6-hour marathons gone wrong, carefully constructed completely winning positions butchered by one reckless move, or opening disasters where you’re the deer in the headlights of your opponent’s gambit. Looking at my past losses as well as those of my students, it hurts to see the grief and anguish both during the game and afterwards.
So how does losing affect our mindset?
1. Denial
A part of being a good player is being objective but the brain doesn’t handle losing well; whether it’s losing a loved one or losing a loved position, the first stage of processing this change of events is denying the loss altogether. You had the advantage earlier but messed it up, yet you keep telling yourself that you deserve to win, since you were so much better.
https://lichess.org/study/C2YubwHp/z4ysSCXt
After winning the exchange out of the opening, wild complications ensued where it was hard to tell who was better at all. I felt that black’s attack should be unsound but good luck proving it! Going into the endgame, I had all the chances to win, and a simple 52. Qe2 would trade the queens off with an elementary win. After realizing what I missed and what I allowed after 53. Qh6, the denial set in. “I was winning earlier, it will really hurt if this is a draw” said the ego, trying to find a win by hook or by crook. In the end, the passed b-pawn really is unstoppable, except my king gets mated first 🙁
It’s really hard to switch from playing for a win to playing for a draw, or vice versa. To paraphrase Shakespeare, being honest with yourself helps.
2. Anger
“How could I be so stupid as to allow that skewer!! What kind of (insert your swear word) would fall for something like this?” This is the anger phase when you can no longer deny how the tables have turned.
Usually the first mistake won’t ruin everything but the anger from that first taste of defeat will lead to bigger mistakes which will be decisive. When it rains it pours…
Uncontrolled anger becomes tilt which leads to premature attacks, wishful thinking, and forgetting that solid moves exist. This can be amplified in long games, where your anger simmers for hours on end.
https://lichess.org/study/C2YubwHp/cLfJnH0D
After getting a won position (+3.7 at move 31) I started losing the thread, and the frustration of playing subpar moves started to tell. None of the mistakes were catastrophic in themselves but one led to the next, and all the dominoes fell.
Playing for the win in this queen endgame was partially denial about losing the massive advantage but also anger about allowing counterplay and not putting away the black king earlier on, where all roads should lead to Rome. In a calm state I would have calmly brought my queen back with 70.Qe2+ to settle for a perpetual check, but this was a special level of tilt; the level where you start seeing red and stubbornness turns into self-sabotage.
So how to deal with chess anger? After this game I learned breathing techniques (deep breath in for four seconds, breathe out for 8), and putting these plot twists into perspective.
It’s easier to stay calm if you remember how insignificant your blunder is in the grand scheme of things. Easier said than done, I know.
3. Bargaining
Have you ever been miserably sick with a cold, or perhaps hungover after a long night at the bar? You feel like getting out of bed is a herculean effort, and you start pleading that if this sickness goes away, you will start living the right way. You will take your vitamins, eat like an athlete, go to the gym twice a day, and make the most of the second chance life blessed you with. This is the bargaining stage, which also applies to losing in chess.
If you messed up the theory in a sharp Najdorf Sicilian, you could be praying to Caissa for your opponent not to see the refutation of your move order. “If I manage to survive this opening fiasco, I will go home and study that Giri Chessable course until I can recite it by heart”. Perhaps you missed a skewer and promised yourself that you’ll drill out the Woodpecker method so this will never, ever, happen again (rinse and repeat every few years XD). You struggle to retain control of a position that is rapidly falling away from you.
https://lichess.org/study/C2YubwHp/gfygBufF
After winning the bishop pair in the opening and starting the attack, denial hit at 29. Qxd4 when I didn’t want to settle for a slightly uncomfortable endgame, opting to keep the “attack” going with 29…Qh5. There was plenty of anger from 33…Rb8 to 45…Bxa6 as I slowly realized just how bad the position got and what I would have to sacrifice to stop that b-pawn. Resignation seemed very reasonable in that endgame with bishop against rook, but I hadn’t got to the acceptance stage yet. One Russian proverb says that if you suffer long enough, something good will happen. So I decided to suffer this endgame to the end, partially to punish myself. If I could atone for my earlier chess sins, perhaps something good would happen, like the stalemate tricks at the end.
4. Depression/Dread
Bobby Fischer said that he was an optimist because chess demands it, and all kinds of mishaps occur when optimism is replaced by fatalism.
There is a long list of masters resigning in drawn positions because their situation was indeed…depressing. In classical chess, Shankland resigned in a drawn endgame against Giri, probably because being down a bishop isn’t fun. Or here’s a case where time pressure and the litany of white threats proved depressing enough to convince Karjakin to resign despite a perpetual check being available:
https://youtube.com/shorts/eW1m-xL7GFA?si=c5spdTT8Jq39y4N-
Just last week, IM Sara Khadem resigned in a drawn position because of a depressing, hopeless looking endgame against GM Koneru Humpy.
Apart from resigning, dread can alter our evaluations of positions, stop us from finding counterplay, and enable all kinds of self-destruction:
The internet’s favourite chess coach Levy Rozman was in the middle of a long slump here, winning only 2 of his last 23 classical games. In the recap video to this game, he comments: “Throughout this tournament I just cannot have stable thoughts”. Because of this dread mindset, on move 22 he talks himself out of the natural moves like Bd2 and Bc1. Instead he goes for the radical Rxf5, trying to get the game over with as soon as possible. This forcing mindset backfires as Iren finds some nice resources to steer the game towards a drawn endgame. “I’m allowing counterplay! I’m missing tactics! I just want to get it over with!” were all thoughts that Levy says crossed his mind and let the win slip.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2okI8nQ845A&ab_channel=GothamChess
5. Acceptance (?)
Acceptance of losing or being in a lost position doesn’t mean being happy with it, or pretending like everything is fine. It means coming to terms with the truth, so you can move on. Once you accept that you’re losing you can see each move as a defensive puzzle to put up the most resistance. There is no more blame or guilt, just the fight for survival.
After a sharp opening gone wrong, my attacking bluff was nicely refuted as I lost one, then two, and finally three pawns for next to nothing. By the time I had to play 18.Kd2 I was no longer under any illusions of grandeur, and accepted that from now on my job will be to save a lost position. Indeed the position was so bad that my coach who saw the pawns dropping one by one turned off the live game broadcast believing there was no hope for salvation, let alone a win.
After realizing the position was completely lost around move 30 I became really calm since there was nothing more to lose and everything to gain. My pieces had some temporary activity which helped avoid depression/dread. Since I wasn’t too stressed about saving the half-point, it was easier to fight for the full point when the opportunity arose.
“Serenity comes when you trade expectations for acceptance” ~Buddha
Finally, there are times when nothing you do can save the game. In this case, acceptance will be needed afterwards to make the best of your loss. Instead of going into denial with excuses like “I didn’t get enough sleep!” “He’s younger and got lucky with the opening line!” or “if only I had more time!”, look at the game critically. For example, Bobby Fischer was known to be extremely critical of his games, pointing out missed opportunities even in his best works. This perfectionism allowed him to improve even after reaching the top, never sugar-coating his mistakes. Yet after processing and accepting, we need to move on without getting stuck in the past. If a loss bothers you day after day, it holds you back and takes away from your future.
Funny Losing Stories
To cheer you up from a solemn topic, here’s a joke about denial in chess:
Efim Bogolyubov believed that he could defeat any chess player at any time. But in a strong international event, after five consecutive losses, a reporter approached him. “Bogolyubov, what has happened to you?” “Vell, is a tragic story,” replied the great Bogolyubov.”Before the first round, my wife and I had a terrible fight. I simply could not concentrate. “Before the second round, my wife and I made up, and she cooked me a most fantastic meal. But it sat in my stomach like a rock. “The night before the third round, there was a terrible commotion on the street outside our hotel room. I simply got no sleep. “And during the fourth round, my opponent arrived wearing a leather jacket. Imagine! Every time he makes move, it makes a terrible sound. I could not focus.” There was a short pause, and the reporter asked in curiosity: “So, what happened in round five?” Bogolyubov replied: “Vell, even a great player can lose one game!”
Some players take denial to another level, as I found out in 2012. While playing a game at a local Swiss weekend tourney, I achieved a comfortable advantage which still needed some time to convert. My opponent put on his coat, hat, and left the building. At first, I thought that he went out for a smoke, but an hour went by, and his time ran out. No hand-shake, no setting up pieces, and no sign that he was resigning. Moreover I haven’t seen him in tournaments since, not much acceptance there! This wasn’t the first case of runaway resignation, as the most famous case in history was Von Bardeleben walking out on Steinitz after seeing the end of Wilhelm’s shocking combination. At least Steinitz got the five pounds brilliancy prize!
I hope you enjoyed this post.
I run an online chess school for kids and teenagers, if you’re interested, you can find more details here and do a level assessment here.
