Is Chess a Sport?
Or, what I learned from watching the Paris Speed Chess Championship.
I know what you’re thinking: you’re about to read another tortured argument for why chess, a game in which physical ability is only tangentially related to success, is a sport. Perhaps I will regale with you the story of how my brain was once so tired at the conclusion of a tournament that I forgot how to tie my shoes1. Maybe I’ll tell you about how hungry I get when I play chess, or, more awkwardly, how much I sweat during the average game.
Don’t worry, this post isn’t about any of that stuff.
Wherever you fall on the chess is/is not a sport continuum, there is no question that the Paris Speed Chess Championship was meant to be watched by the public in the same way that we consume major American sports like basketball and football. Let’s consider the parallels:
Sports are based on points or runs or goals, things that you can accumulate that gives the viewer some basic information about who is ahead or likely to win. An individual game of chess is a deeply complex struggle; determining who is winning is often hard to parse (or requires computer assistance). A match of many games collapses the difficulty of a single game of chess into something simpler: a race to accumulate the most points.
The use of two clocks, one for the game and the other for the time remaining in the match mimics the use of the shot clock and game clock in basketball, creating tension both within the individual game and the match overall.
A short time control, which increases the potential for upsets and mistakes.
Like virtually all major sporting events, the Paris Speed Chess Championship was played in front of a live audience with real-time commentary.
For me, this format raised two questions, one big and one small. When we make chess more exciting, the accuracy of play tends to decrease. Thus, the big question is whether this trade-off is worth it: what are we willing to sacrifice in the name of entertainment? The smaller question is whether the Speed Championship was as exciting and entertaining as it could have been, as well as how this format could be improved.
Let’s start with the smaller question first: how to make the event more exciting. To some extent it was bad luck that all four of the matches in Paris were so uncompetitive. Blowouts happen, and there was always a chance that Hans Niemann was going to be outclassed by the other three guys, but Firouzja crushing Nakamura and then getting even more brutally posterized by Carlsen was disappointing from the fan’s perspective. The Elam Ending is a possible fix, as the match clock would no longer eliminate a player’s chances of mounting a last ditch comeback, but it’s not terribly likely that someone down by five or six points is going to suddenly bounce back, no matter how you determine the end of the match.
Dennis Monokroussos recently suggested a fix to the endless stream of Giuoco Pianos in classical tournaments on his excellent blog, The Chess Mind:
In at least some tournaments, have the organizers come up with a list of, say, 100 variations that might be chosen. The players may or may not be informed about this - maybe they’re given a week or two’s notice at most. Just before each round, maybe no more than half an hour beforehand, one of those variations is chosen at random. The players will play two games - maybe g/60, with only a minimal break in between the games for rest and not further analysis - with each side getting a crack with the white pieces to minimize any possible unfairness in case one of the lines is especially favorable to one side or the other.
You could run this method on repeat in a blitz match, giving structure to the struggle as the players contest a variety of openings in successive two game mini-matches. I’m not sure that you would get closer matches, but I would find the wider variety of positions more engaging as a fan. That said, we got some interesting openings that don’t appear very often in classical chess, so it’s not clear exactly how much of a change this would make.
I found it difficult to follow the chess whenever the games degenerated into time scrambles. In one instance, while watching Cristian Chirila and Fiona Steil-Antoni on Hikaru’s twitch stream, neither commentator knew which player had won the previous game, as the new one had started immediately after resignation. The reply of the last game of each segment was one of the highlights of the broadcast, and I don’t think that adding a one minute break after each game for more replays would upset the flow of the match too much. Modern sports broadcasts know that you can’t have too much replay; that’s where the casual fan has time to understand the strategic choices being made on the field (or, in this case, board).
Another way of avoiding the chaos of time scrambles would be to switch from standard blitz to something like 10 seconds per move (or less, if you want the action faster). The players would still be playing quickly, but the moves would be coming in at a speed that would allow commentators and fans a better chance to process what was happening in real time. The other advantage of slowing things down a bit is that the players could face off on a real board. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but two people in the same room playing on two computers feels gimmicky.
The bigger question, “Is the sportification of chess worth it?”, is harder to answer. We have a long-standing editorial policy here at Lit & Chess that we don’t analyze rapid or blitz games, but we’ll drop it for the moment in the spirit of scientific inquiry.
Let’s take a look at Game 2 between Nakamura and Firouzja, a wild battle with major swings that took place before Firouzja got rolling and put the match out of reach. I watched it live while making my kids breakfast, and found myself both entertained and a little horrified. I’ve included my own occasional comments (AL), as well as a rough transcription of the official broadcast: Daniel Naroditsky (DN) and Levy Rozman (LR), who did a hell of a job just to keep up with what was happening. Let’s start on move thirty:
Firouzja has white, is down a piece, and has a threatening attack. Both players were under twenty seconds at this point and under ten for much of the rest of the game. It continued 30 hxg6 hxg6 LR: You long castle, fe Ke2. AL: In the comfort of my home, not forced to do live commentary, I realized that 000 is illegal; white has already played Ra1-a3-a1. 31 e6 DN: But Rh8 is coming by Hikaru and he is up a piece, can Alireza sustain that situation in the center? 31 … exf2+ 32 Kf1 Qe7 LR: Pawn takes f2 do you even? 33 Rd1? DN: He couldn’t take back. LR: Yeah, because Qd6. DN: Rad1. LR: He’s just losing, Alireza’s losing! DN: Rf6, you’ve got to leave the knight on c6 hanging.
AL: The commentary team got behind for a moment, but they caught up, and it’s true, white’s Rad1 was drops the evaluation from dynamically equal to almost winning for black. Nakamura just had to find Rf6, but instead: 33 … Rh8? 34 Rxh8 Rxh8 DN: He goes Rh8 instead, oh my gosh. LR: We have a trade now. 35 Qxc6? AL: A missed win. The computer points out a nice line: 35 Nxf5+! is winning because of 35 … gxf5 36 Qxc6 Rd8 37 Rxd8 Qxd8 38 Qd7+! 35 … Qxe6 LR: This is insanity, Ne8 check, Qb7. 36 Qb7+? AL: 36 Nxf5+ was still best, although now it only provides equality. 36 … Kg8 DN: The king is going to step up to f6, he goes back instead. LR: Oh, he’s losing! DN: Queen a8 queen b8!!
AL: Another missed opportunity for Nakamura, and, in a moment, for Firouzja: 37 Nxf5? DN: Instead he takes threatening mate, Alireza with one second! AL: As noted earlier by Danya, 37 Qa8+ followed by taking the bishop wins conventionally. Now Nakamura finds a nice resource: 37 … Qc4+! 38 Kg2! f1=Q+! DN: Now is Hiraku hunting him down? 39 Rxf1 Qc2+ LR: Oh my gosh, how is he not getting mated? 40 Kf3? Qxf5? LR: He was mated for a second, now it’s probably going to be a draw. AL: White had to play 40 Rf2; after 40 Kf3? Rh3+ 41 Ng3 Qd3+ leads to mate. 41 Qa8+ Kg7? LR: What is going on? 42 Qxa7+ Kg8 43 Qa8+ Kg7 DN: Is Alireza going to repeat moves? He’s zigging and zagging. 44 Qb7+ Kg8 45 Qb8+ Kf7 46 Qc7+? Kg8 LR: He hung the rook in one move!! 47 Qb8+ Kg7 DN: Well he might take it again, he might have another chance, maybe trade queens. 48 Qe5+!
AL: The position calms down significantly, but with so little time left, the mistakes continue. 48 … Qxe5 49 fxe5 DN: Is Alireza winning the pawn ending? 49 … Rh2 50 Ke4 LR: Alireza is winning the pawn ending. 50 …Rxb2 51 e6 DN: So Hikaru refrains from trading rooks, but Alireza’s passers are faster. 51 … b3 52 c6 Rc2 DN: Or are they? 53 Kd5 DN: They are, e7, no. b2 54 e7 LR: You don’t want to play it, now e7. DN: Maybe you make a knight. 54 … Rd2+ DN: Rc1 e8 equals knight. AL: I think this is a rare misstep from Danya; unless I’m interpreting his idea incorrectly: 54 … Rc1 55 e8=N+ Kh6 wins for black.
55 Kc5 Rc2+ 56 Kd6 LR: Does he know how to under promote? 56 … Rd2+ 57 Kc5 DN: There’s no alt button. 57 … Rc2+ LR: Why is he repeating? 58 Kd4 DN: Rc1 has to be tried, he’s zigzagging the king back to black’s rook. 58 … Rf2 LR: Rf2 but you can take and make a queen!
AL: I can imagine that Firouzja was concerned that black might be able to swindle a draw after 59 Rxf2, but 59 Re1 is a nice option, since 59 … Re2 60 Rxe2 b1=Q 61 e8=Q and white’s heavy pieces are coordinated. Instead, he makes a tragic mistake and allows the black king back into the game. 59 Rb1? LR: It’s a draw now it’s a draw!! 59 … Kf7 60 Re1 Ke8 61 Kc3 DN: Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this. 61 … Rf6 62 c7 Rc6+ 63 Kxb2 Rxc7 LR: But he’s going to. DN: Hikaru’s going to play for a win. 64 Re6 g5 DN: But Alireza shouldn’t no no no no. 65 Rxa6 Rc5?
AL: It was time to take the e-pawn. Now, to my surprise, white is winning once again. The point is that white can get to the position with Ra8 and Pa7 a move before black can get to the ideal defensive position Ra5 and Kg7 (or Kc7). 66 Re6? LR: Ra8 Ra8!! AL: Here’s the variation: 66 Ra8+ Kxe7 67 a6 Ra5 68 a7 Kf7 69 Rh8! Rxa7 70 Rh7+ and wins. 66 … Rxa5 67 Kc3 Ra7 68 Kd4 Rxe7 69 Rxe7+ Kxe7 LR: Now they’re just going to trade. DN: And Hikaru’s up a pawn. 70 Ke5 g4 71 Kf4 g3 72 Kxg3 DN: Alireza has to eliminate Hikaru’s last pawn. Draw.
Quite exciting, but was it worth all those mistakes? I counted nine moves that significantly changed the evaluation in an eight move span (33 to 41), and a few more in the rook and pawn ending that followed. As soon as the game ended, Levy Rozman noted that “Both of their accuracies dropped by 20% in the scramble.”
Throwing a touchdown while being tackled, nailing a deep three with a hand in your face, hitting a homer off a slider breaking out of the strike zone: we put professional athletes in incredibly difficult situations because it makes their accomplishments all the more amazing. I was blown away by the quality of chess all four players could manage while moving so fast that their play was more instinctual than anything else. But at the same time, I think that blitz produces stupid games of chess that no one will want to go back to after the match is over. Just as I don’t want to watch Steph Curry brick a bunch of three-pointers, I don’t want to watch Alireza Firouzja blunder into a mate in six that his opponent misses. Make chess a sport if you must, but balance the level of difficulty so that the players can still produce beautiful moves: give me rapid time controls, give me ten seconds a move, give me instant replay so that my brain can engage and the commentators have a chance to explain even a short variation or two.
Switching gears, who do you have winning the Olympiad? I’ll loop back around to cover it at some point; with so many players and teams, we’re sure to get some interesting and memorable chess.
True story, although there isn’t much more to it than that.
As you say, it seems like they could play with the format. Shot clock with longer "timeouts" reserved for thinks at critical moments? Then there is some strategy about when to take timeouts, like in other sports.