Fool's Mate: Part II

(Click here for Part I: Opening Combination)

II. Middlegame


"Though I'd move my world to be with him, still the gap between us is too wide. Looking back, I could have played it differently... won a few more moments, who can tell? But it took time to understand the man. Now at least I know I know him well." -- Tim Rice, from Chess

You shake hands with your partner and both of you take a seat. You make a move, he reacts, you react to his reaction. You keep offering possibilities. So does he. You feed off of each other, more connections are made, more possible outcomes are offered with every response. You fortify your position, refine your focus, and your partner does the same. You watch his movements carefully in search of what he's thinking, what he's longing to do to you. Then, at any given moment, one of you finally strikes. He takes, you take, he takes again, and the exchange continues until the position is spent. You pause, you take a breath. Things slow down. The rules of the game are completely different now and so is the board in front of you, so you must reassess where you stand in terms of both.

Daters call the next phase of this game a steady relationship, but to chess players, it's the middlegame. In both cases, its boundaries are pretty ill-defined and vary from player to player. Some people think the middlegame starts once the textbook opening combination ends, but others, including me, think that the rapid-fire exchange of captures that inevitably follows every opening is the true mark of the middlegame. After this point, both of you have committed to the game, you've exchanged parts of yourself, and you're willing to navigate the new board arrangement together. And though one player may enter the middlegame with a bit of an advantage in terms of captured pieces or position, the players are always on pretty even footing if the pairing is well-matched.

Once again, my middlegame style reflects my personality with astounding accuracy. The middlegame has always been the strongest part of my gameplay because it depends on imagination as much as it depends on strong tactical skill. I have enough tricks up my sleeve to give my partner everything he could ever want in a game, and I can use them creatively enough to keep the game interesting. I'm good at keeping an open, centralized position and moving with both subtlety and decisiveness. All of my exchanges – and the middlegame almost completely depends on smart trades between players – are thought-out and innovative. I'm not afraid to pin pieces, make sacrifices, or surrender position if I know that it will make the game better in the long run. I screw myself over more often than not while playing chess, but it very rarely happens in this phase of the game.

How does the middlegame pan out for Florence and Anatoly? They fortify their positions and defeat Freddie at the World Championship. They complement each other perfectly; Anatoly's love gives Florence the strength to sever all ties with Freddie, and Florence's love gives Anatoly the strength to leave his oppressive government. They both give, they both take, and they both navigate the middlegame with even material and positions. By the time the middlegame finishes, the board is clear of all pieces but a few. The best line of play for both of them seems obvious, but Florence's family, Anatoly's family, Anatoly's career, the national-scale baggage of both players, and, of course, the constant meddling of Freddie complicate matters. When we enter the endgame, Anatoly has a choice to make. He can either remain with Florence at the cost of his perceived honor or give into Freddie at the cost of his own happiness.

To be continued in Part III.