Now What?

As it turned out, the European Individual Championship in Skopje in 2019 was the last tournament of my chess career. I didn’t know that back then, but 7 years later I realise that my professional career ended where it started - in my home city. So, the question is, now what?

There are many factors present here, the biggest one being that time passed and life happened. I don’t play much anymore, the only games I have played in these past 7 years have been league games. The momentum and inspiration for serious work died down long time ago.

The problem is that I still don’t want to abandon my desire to improve. Why cannot I just accept the fact that it’s over, move on to other things, almost all of them chess-related, so I will still be in touch with the game, just not playing it, and enjoy life? This continuous talk of retirement for players over 40 (or sometimes even earlier, not to mention much later) is not very helpful.

In the aftermath of the closing ceremony of the European Championship I had a chat with Russian GM Evgeny Alekseev. A Russian champion from 2006, he’s almost 10 years younger than me, yet he still talked about retirement, switching to other activities etc. as one approaches 40.

Then of course there is Kramnik. I read an interview in New In Chess and the way he talked about the lack of motivation and how he was forcing himself to care about the result and calculate lines resonated deeply with me. I should say I don’t have these feelings now, as the mindset has moved on from the one of a professional chess player to something else, but I did have them at the end of my active chess period, some time in 2015-2016.

When thinking of these great players I came to see that perhaps now my situation is most similar to Topalov’s. He abandoned all ambition and calls himself “mentally retired” and “enjoys life.” He still plays some chess, I would assume just to enjoy it (and earn money, obviously), though his results are pretty bad and enjoying chess while having bad results is impossible. However, the major difference is that he probably doesn’t care so much about improvement, while I do. So how do I combine the desire to improve with little practice and a lot of other activities I’m engaged in?

Honestly, I’d say it’s impossible. I’ve seen that in these past 7 years. The only time when I can work on my own chess is if I manage to organise a training camp for myself, as I did before the European Championship. The point of that camp (I was alone there, no coaches or sparring partners) was to isolate and work on chess all day, to get into a working rhythm and a chess-player mindset. So if my time to work on my own improvement is limited to the time spent at a training camp, only one conclusion remains: I must work both smarter and harder when there. But where the hell do I find the time to organise a camp for myself? How do I take away time from the life I’m currently living, with all of its commitments?

In spite of all of the above, which clearly makes it all impossible, there is one thing that gives me inner satisfaction after all and that is the fact I am in fact improving at something. I understand chess better, much better than 7 years ago. Of course, the problem is that my skills and ability get worse. I wonder if one can call that net improvement - better understanding, worse ability.

Still, following the games of the best players, often being a meter or two away from them (like in the World Championship match in Singapore) brings me a lot of pleasure, to think about chess and discover new things about it every time.

And now, to answer the question from the title. I think that life will continue as before, with me not having time to work on my own chess. As a result I won’t have great results and my skills will keep on deteriorating, the rating will go down the drain. But the continuous process of thinking about the game will never cease and as long as I can derive pleasure from the game analyses, the introspection, the delving into the depths of the game and the players’ psychology, perhaps not all is lost.

P.S. Today’s video is from my penultimate tournament in 2018, in Porto Mannu, Sardinia. The game was played in round 7 and I played it with high fever, runny nose, sore throat and an annoying cough. I faced one of the brightest Italian prospects at that time, a young Grandmaster on his way up. I was Black. Nothing looked good, but sometimes, miracles happen and under the most improbable circumstances we’re able to produce something completely unexpected. I played one of my best games ever. It wasn’t like the game from last week, my calculation was blurry and my decisions were heavily influenced by my health. And yet, it all worked out perfectly. In spite of my health problems throughout the tournament, it’s all well that ends well - I finished shared 2nd and I was happy.