Football and chess

“The people who survive the next decade won’t be the ones with the best credentials. They’ll be the ones who stopped mourning the world that was and started building for the one that doesn’t exist yet” (Terence Tao, Fields Medal–winning mathematician).

It is always worth watching the best practitioners of any craft. One learns, if not how to  succeed, then at least how failure is avoided. This applies to football (of which more below) as much as to chess. In the latter, I have from early youth been a huge fan of the 20-plus match game format for the chess world championship. This was introduced by the Staunton v St Amant clash at Paris 1843 and subsequently crowned such titans as Steinitz, Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine, Botvinnik, Fischer and Kasparov.

Now, though, with the self-imposed exile of the world’s strongest player, Magnus Carlsen, and his replacement by the pathetic usurpers Gukesh Dommaraju (2739: ranked #7 in the current world rankings) and Ding Liren (2734: unranked currently, due to insufficient games played), it is manifest that the ancien regime has collapsed. The future heralds a new way of determining the strongest player.

“I’m not trying to take anything away from Gukesh Dommaraju or Ding Liren, but for me, the story of the classical World Championship ended with Magnus Carlsen. I’m a traditionalist. In my view, the world champion should be the strongest player on the planet.”

(Garry Kasparov, @EndgameaiChess)

The fresh dawn involves a multi-player world tour, embracing different, faster time limits, designed to appeal to the post-Netflix / post-Covid audience for chess online, which has so massively expanded as a result of these eventualities. Even the jaded Carlsen is attracted by such a format and it has also succeeded in enticing a new breed of chess sponsor, football stars.

“Chess is an incredible game. It sharpens your mind, and there are clear similarities to football. You have to think quickly, trust your instincts, and think several moves ahead. Strategy and planning are everything“, “I’m investing in Norway Chess because I believe the new Total Chess World Championship Tour can turn chess into an even bigger sport for spectators around the world. The team behind Norway Chess has already done an impressive job growing the event, and joining the project was too exciting to pass up.”

(Erling Haaland, international football star for Manchester City & Norway)

Football sponsorship for chess, however, has left a residue in the mind. It is the sort of contradiction (or is it?) that encourages speculation, particularly of the kind that links the remote past with the rather self-conscious present. I found myself considering the supposed division between physical and mental sport, a distinction which, though frequently asserted, becomes less convincing the more one examines it. Friedrich Schiller, whose words lie behind Ludwig van Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, appears to have dismissed such a division altogether.

Before arriving at his conclusion, one must pass through the filter of translation, which is never a neutral process. The German language, with its tendency toward density and precision, resists easy conversion into English. The version I encountered comes through Gesine Dörnberg, an evidently serious figure, whose credentials—Hamburg, Slavic philology, ethical journalism—suggest a mind trained to respect nuance.

“Der Mensch spielt nur, wo er in voller Bedeutung des Wortes Mensch ist, und er ist nur da ganz Mensch, wo er spielt.”

It is a sentence that appears simple, and yet, like most such sentences, conceals a difficulty. Dörnberg renders Schiller’s words thus: “Man is only fully human when at play.” The idea, stripped of ornament, is that play represents a liberation from both necessity and duty. It is, in effect, a momentary escape from compulsion, and therefore a condition in which freedom—and, by extension, beauty—can exist.

This brings me to a more recent text: Football and Chess: Tactics, Strategy, Beauty by Adam Wells. He advances the argument that football and chess are, at a fundamental level, variations on the same activity. Both involve space, timing, and the breaking down of resistance. The rules are minimal, the objectives clear. Yet it is precisely this simplicity that produces complexity.

The element of teamwork—or, in chess, coordination—is crucial. A single misplaced piece, or player, can undo an otherwise sound position. It follows that a technically superior side may be defeated by one that is merely more coherent. This is a truth recognised, consciously or not, by luminary managers such as Rafael Benitez and Karel Brückner, both of whom have shown a preference for structure over individual brilliance.

A more contemporary example is Enzo Maresca (ex-Chelsea & Leicester), whose interest in the parallels between football and chess is not incidental but formalised in his studies at Coverciano. That such a comparison should be taken seriously in a professional context suggests that the distinction between “physical” and “mental” sport is, at best, artificial.

The games themselves are inexhaustible. Their possibilities are not merely numerous but effectively infinite. This is what gives them their peculiar fascination: they are always susceptible to reinterpretation. One does not so much master them as participate in an ongoing process.

There persists, nevertheless, a misconception that chess is purely a matter of calculation. This is contradicted by the testimony of players such as Mikhail Tal and Garry Kasparov, both of whom emphasise intuition. Calculation, while necessary, is insufficient. The same applies to football, where decision-making under pressure requires not only analysis but instinct.

As the legendary Dutch midfielder Arnold Mühren observed, football is played “with your brains, not with your feet.” It is a statement that, like Schiller’s, appears obvious once it has been made, yet is seldom acted upon.

The apparent difference between the games—that one is dynamic and the other static—is, on closer inspection, less significant than it seems. In chess, movement is implicit in every position; in football, it is merely more visible. Both demand a continuous mental engagement, without which they become mechanical and uninteresting.

It is therefore not entirely surprising that individuals have excelled in both domains. Simen Agdestein, another Norwegian, is a case in point, his career illustrating the compatibility of the two pursuits. His decision to forgo an international football match in order to play Garry Kasparov is, in its way, a perfect expression of Schiller’s principle: the prioritisation of play, in its highest form, over obligation.

Meanwhile, the Candidates tournament to decide a challenger for the increasingly irrelevant and seemingly outdated world championship match (effectively killed off by Carlsen when he rejected the title) is now underway in Cyprus. The contenders are: Hikaru Nakamura, Fabiano Caruana, Anish Giri, Matthias Blübaum, Javokhir Sindarov, Wei Yi, Andrey Esipenko, Rameshbabu Praggnanandhaa.

And as a Parthian shot, before indulging readers with a sample of one of the epic world matches of yesteryear (Botvinnik v Smyslov, Moscow 1954), let me bid farewell with a piece of sublime absurdity, fake news, a mistimed April Fool’s joke, or a horrifying reality? Last month it was reported that England’s David Howell, whose talent and genius for chess should have catapulted him into the ranks of those fighting for the championship or the laurels of the world tour, has apparently renounced his chess career in favour of opening a florist’s shop in Oslo. The grandmaster confirmed on X that he has “officially retired from chess. Time to pursue my true passions”.

David Howell – photo credit: chesstopics.com (March 19 2026)

Can it possibly be true that the heir to Staunton, Blackburne, Gunsberg, Yates, Alexander, Penrose, Short and Adams has chosen the ultimate career trajectory of George Bernard Shaw’s Eliza Dolittle, instead of seeking the paths of glory on the 64 squares? Canard, Poisson d’Avril or God’s own truth? It seems unlikely, given that Howell is still listed to play Bundesliga fixtures later this month, which would contradict a genuine retirement.

Mikhail Botvinnik vs. Vasily Smyslov

World Championship Match, Moscow, 1954, game four

italicised annotation: Golombek

1. d4 d5 2. c4 dxc4 3. Nf3 a6 4. e3 Bg4 5. Bxc4 e6 6. Qb3 Bxf3 7. gxf3 b5 8. Be2 Nd7 TN

So as to be able to recapture with the knight after …c5 and White’s dxc5. White has some advantage if Black plays the more direct 8… c5 9. a4 b4 10. dxc5 Bxc5 11. Nd2 [Ciocaltea-Sliwa, Prague, 1951])

9. a4 b4 10. Nd2 Ngf6 11. Ne4 c5 12. Nxf6+ Qxf6 13. d5 e5 14. a5

A move with a double purpose; not only is Black’s a5-a4 prevented, but this also stops Black’s knight being used as a blockading piece 14… Nb6 15. a5 Nc8 and the 16… Nd6.

14… Bd6 15. e4 O-O 16. Be3

At first glance the position seems quite static and Black’s Q-side pawn weaknesses a considerable handicap; but now Smyslov finds a pawn sacrifice that gives him very good attacking chance.

16… c4

Good enough for the draw is the sober 16… Rfc8 17. Rc1 Qd8 (not as good is 17… Nf8 18. h4 Ng6 19. h5 Nf4 20. Bc4 h6) 18. Ra1 Qh4 19. Bc4 f5 20. Qd3 Nf6, with an advantage to white.

17. Qxc4 Rfc8 18. Qb3 Qg6 19. Kf1 f5 20. Rg1 Qh5 21. Rg2 Nc5?!

More robust is 21… f4 22. Bd2 Rab8 23. Qd1 Nc5 containing white’s advantage.

22. Qd1!?

White’s attack becomes overwhelming after 22. Qxb4! Rab8 (and not 22… Ne4 23. Qb7!) 23.  Qa3 fxe4 24. fxe4 Qe8 (but not 24… Qh4).

22… Qh4?

This move is a waste of time, as it merely puts the queen on a worse square. Better is 22… f4! 23. Bd2 Rab8 24. Kg1 Qh4 25. b3 g6, when white retains the status quo of a slight edge.

23. Kg1?

By guarding the h2-pawn with his king he frees his g2-rook. However, there is far better available: after 23. Rc1 (or 23. exf5 Qf6 24. Rc1 Rab8 25. Rg5) Qf6 24. exf5 Qxf5 25. Rc4 b3 26. Rg5 Qf6 27. h4, white’s advantage is quite compelling.

23… f4 24. Bd2 Rab8 25. Kh1 Rf8 26. Bc4 Rf6 27. Qg1 Bf8?

Viable, as white gains nothing via the discovered check after 28. c6+, but this loses more ground to white.

Both, a) 27… Rf7 28. Qe1 Rfb7 29. Qe2 Rc7 30. b3 Kh8 31. Qe1 Rcb7; and, b) 27… g6 28. Rg4 Qh3 29. Qd1 Rf7 30. b3 Qh6 31. Qf1 Qg7, hold fast and cede white nothing further.

28. Rg4?

Cancelling out black’s last inaccuracy when 28. Qe1! b3 29. Bb4 Kh8 30. Qc3 Qh5 31. Bxc5 Bxc5 32. Be2 Bd6 33. Bxa6 capitalised on the error, to white’s considerable benefit.

28… Qh5?!

Back where he came from; but now Smyslov was bitterly regretting his unlucky twenty-second move. But even this second chance at relocation is imprecise: 28… Qh3 29. Qg2 Qxg2+ 30. Kxg2 Bd6, is more accurate and allows white no further gain of advantage.

29. Qg2 Qf7

He has to bring his queen back to protect his g7-pawn, as white was threatening 30. Rag1, and if 30… Rb7 31. Bxb4 Rxb4 32. Rxg7+ followed by mate.

30. b3 Kh8 31. Rg1 Rd6?!

Both 31… h6 or …Rh6 are more effective obstacles to white’s progress.

32. Bc1

The attractive 32. Bxf4 exf4 33. e5 can just be countered by 33… Rh6.

32… Nd7 33. Bb2 Re8 34. Qf1

Even stronger was 34. Rg5 threatening Rf5.

34… Qh5

Badly off though Smyslov is for time, he can still produce this ingenious resource. If now 35. Bxa6 Nf6, followed by Qxf3.

Counter-intuitively, white can actually permit the exchange, as: 36. Bb5 Rb8 (36… Ra8 37. Qg2 Nxg4 38. Qxg4 Qxg4 39. Rxg4 Rxa5 40. Bc4 Rd7 41. Bxe5) 37. a6 Nxg4 38. fxg4 Qg6 39. f3 Qf6 40. g5 Qe7 41. Qa1 Rxb5 42. a7, leaves white much the better.

35. Qg2 Qh6 36. Rg5 g6 37. Qf1 Bg7 38. Bc1
36. Bxa6 would be a simpler way of winning. Instead, Botvinnik intends to attack b4-pawn as well so as to have the whole of black’s queenside under fire.

38… Bf6 39. R5g4!?

Even stronger is, 39. R5g2! Rb8 40. Bxa6 Qf8 41. Bc4 Qd8 42. a6 Ra8 43. Bb2 Nc5 44. Qa1.

39… Be7

Better counter-chances were afforded by 39… Bd8, but by now the flag on black’s clock was very near falling. In fact, black’s best means of containing any further advantage to white came after, 39… Nc5 40. Bb2 Rc8 41. Qd1 Rd7 42. Qd2 Qh3 43. Be2

40. Bd2?!

White can capture the pawn with complete immunity, as after 40. Bxa6!, Nf6 41. Rg5 Nd7 42. R5g2 Nc5 43. Bb5, white’s passed a-pawn takes on a powerful life of its own.

40… Nf6 41. R4g2

The [sealed] move that everybody had indeed expected. In view too of Smyslov’s many weaknesses and of the great power of Botvinnik’s two bishops, the game, it was thought, would not last much longer.

41… Rd7

One or other of the queenside pawns must go, and that makes black two pawns to the bad.

42. Bxa6 Ra7 43. Bb5 Rg8

Black’s one chance resides in a counter-attack by advancing his g-pawn.

44. a6 g5?

Advancing the g-pawn immediately is a mistake. Black should prefer 44… Qg7 (44… Rb8 is as good) 45. Qc4 Rb8 46. Rc1 Qf8 47. Rgg1 Bd6 48. Kg2 Qe7, leaving black passive, but holding.

45. Qd3?

A mistake that loses time and adds strength to black’s counter-attack. Instead, he can force a win by 45. d6 Bxd6 46. Bc4 Rgg7 47. Qd3 Be7 48. Bxb4 Bxb4 49. Qd8+ Ng8 50. Rxg5, and black’s only defence against the threat of 51. Qxg8+ followed by mate is to give up his queen by 50… Qg6, when, however, his position is quite hopeless.

The previous contemporary analysis, despite the improvements available to both sides, is correct. But with 45. Qa1! Bd6 46. Qa5 Qh3 47. Be2 Rb8 48. Rxg5 Qh4 49. Qa1 Qxf2 50. R5g2 Qh4 51. Be1 Qh6 52. Bf2 Rc7 53. a7, white decisively drives home his advantage with vigour.

45… Bd6 46. Qe2 Rag7 47. Qd1 Qh4?!

Black should continue with, 47… g4 48. fxg4 Nxe4 49. f3 Nc3 50. Bxc3 bxc3.

48. Be2!?

White can still play the decisive 48. Qa1 g4 49. Bxf4 exf4 50. e5 Ne4 51. fxe4 Bc5 52. e6.

48… g4 49. Be1

Not 49. fxg4? Nxe4 50. Be1 Ng5 51. f3 Qh3 52. Qd3 e4 53. fxe4 f3! when black wins.

The situation has become critical, and to cap it all Botvinnik has to make the next seven moves in under eight minutes.

49… h5 50. fxg4?

A crucial error. White was still firmly in the driving seat after either, a) 50. Qc1 Bb8 51. Qc6 Ba7 52. Qe6 Qg5 53. fxg4; or, b) 50. Qa1 Kh7 51. a7 Ra8 52. Qa6 Rd7 53. fxg4 Raxa7 54. Qd3. White still enjoys an advantage, but the ensuing endgame becomes highly charged now.

50… hxg4 51. Bxg4!

A powerful piece sacrifice.

51… Rxg4??

Smyslov, by now in just as much time trouble as his opponent, chooses a line that wins a piece but leads quite surely to a lost ending. The issue would have been much more in doubt if he had played 51… Nxg4. [Several lines of analysis follow this comment]. What would have happened in the time scramble had Smyslov have captured with the knight is an intriguing question. In any case, it was a much better chance than the move played in the game.

This is the decisive mistake by Smyslov, and as anticipated above, after 51… Nxg4, black’s chances are in terminal decline. 52. f3 Qh7 (no better is 52… Qh3 53. fxg4 Ra8 54. Ra2 Bc5 55. Bf2 Bxf2 56. Rxf2 Rxa6) 53. fxg4 Nxe4 54. g5 Qg6 55. Qf3 Ra8 56. Re2 Nc3 57. Bxc3 bxc3 58. Qxc3 when black cannot play 58… Rxa6 because of the crushing 59. Qc8+!!

52. f3 Rxg2?

Or black can obtain two minor pieces for a rook by 52… Rg3 53. Bxg3 fxg3 54. Rxg3 Ra8, but white’s passed pawns would be too much for him. If, for instance, 55. Qc2 then black can neither play  55… Rxa6, because of 56. Qc8+, nor 55… Nh4 because of 56. Rg6.

53. Bxh4 Rxg1+ 54. Qxg1 Rxg1+ 55. Kxg1

White’s piece sacrifice on move 51 was designed to obtain this ending. Black can do nothing against the distant passed pawns.

55… Ne8 56. a7 Nc7

If 56… Bc5+ 57. Bf2 Bxf2+ 58. Kxf2 Nc7 59. d6, and one pawn must queen.

57. Kf1 Kg7 58. Ke2 Kf7

After 58… Bc5 59. Bf2 Bxf2 60. d6 Na8 61. Kxf2 Kf7; white uses his third passed pawn to force the win with 62. h4 Ke6 63. h5 Kxd6 64. h6. 

59. Bf2 Ke8 60. Kd3 Kd7 61. Kc4 Black resigns 1-0

Again, the h-pawn wins after, 61… Kc8 62. Bc5 Bxc5 63. Kxc5 Kd7 64. h4, etc. Despite a number of flaws, this was a passionately interesting game.

Ray’s 206th book, “ Chess in the Year of the King ”, written in collaboration with Adam Black, and his 207th, “ Napoleon and Goethe: The Touchstone of Genius ” (which discusses their relationship with chess) can be ordered from both Amazon and Blackwell’s. His 208th, the world record for chess books, written jointly with the late chess playing artist, Barry Martin,  Chess through the Looking Glass ,  is now also available from Amazon. 

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