Since I last wrote I have played seven games, and only won one. I am not exactly happy about it, but it was not quite as bad as it sounds. On Friday I played a good game that I was proud of, leading my game against a strong 5-dan for a long time:

In this position I had the chance to play ”x”, followed by the triangle, when I would lead with about ten points. In the game I kept the lead for a few more moves before he took over, and kept a small lead for the rest of the game. It is the first game I have ever played, where neither player had a lead greater than ten points. (!)

Then came the weekend tournament. I braced myself a bit, knowing that I am significantly worse with shorter time-limits, but I expected to do ok. In the first round I was paired against the same player that I played in the first round of the Main tournament. This time, again, I got a very good position, and although my lead was not quite as big as last time, it was a lead that would have been easy to hold on to, if only I had played a solid move instead of starting a(n unnecessary) ko. I crashed and burned.

Then, in round two of the weekend, I played horribly and could have resigned after only a few moves. I felt the press on the clock and played a sharp move without reading out the consequences properly, leaving me well twenty points behind.

In round three I was out-played by a Chinese kid. I was constantly behind, and at one point I played a big point, leaving a weak group floating in the middle of the board, which he went on to kill efficiently. We played until late in the evening, and there was two more games on the Sunday, so I went to bed early.

On the Sunday I started my game well enough, and it was going my way when I lost my head:

I am playing the white side, and it is my move. In the game I played the horrible, horrible ”A”, defending my group before attack his three lone stones in the center. The second ”horrible” comes from the fact that I do not have to defend my group below if I kill those stones. Instead I should have played ”x”, which makes miai of the two points marked by triangles. Either Black’s three unconnected stones in the center will die, or Black’s four stones to the right. The result would be overwhelming for me.

Then, in the fifth round I finally won. Not a great game, but I did not crash.

In the evening, for the first time, it was not 30 degrees Celsius outdoors, and we could sit in the grass and go though the games. Parts of the Swedish contingent came and went.

Trying to come to an understanding of the corner joseki.

Not everyone could get a grip on the the situation.

Today I played better again, but my opponent was very consistent and fast. I got a decent position, but in the end my lack of time caught up with me, and I went from slightly worse to dying with one of my groups:

I am aiming higher than I did last year, long term, and the main thing for me is to play good games, against strong players, and then get to go thorough them with friends. There are two weaknesses in my game that are a bit mysterious to me. What I mean is, that most weaknesses are easy to pin-point, and can therefore be fixed, but I have two where I don’t even know what they are, ergo the ”mystery”. But, I am starting to sense what it is about, and my two bad losses in the weekend provided further clues. One of the mysteries is also part of my current issues with playing chess. To be continued…

II have not yet heard it confirmed, but 1400 participants and relatives/hanger-ons/supporters (with access to the playing area), with 750+ attending the open, surely must be some kind of record. The weather is going to be splendid, with temperatures above 30C all through the first week, and I brace myself a bit, as I stay at a hotel situated a half hour walk from the playing hall, with little to no shade on the way.

In the first round I got a very, very good position, but went on a self-destructive spree during the last third of the game:

In the second round I played a young german boy who evaluated the position better than I did: I though I was behind most of the game, but he informed me that such was not the case. And he was right:

I wrote the last entry five days before it was published, and in hindsight I would have done it differently. It sounded pessimistically upbeat, but when the moment of travel arrived, I felt no such thing. My wonderful friend Jörgen, who loved Go as much as I do, my travel partner to many tournaments, and one of the most curious and thoughtful people I have known, left the world of the living only a day before I went here. He was very ill for a long time, and although he was quite open about it, it was easy to miss for those who were not close to him. He did not complain. Only a week before he passed, he, his brother and I, spent a whole evening playing and discussing Go. He popped a painkiller halfway through the evening, stating ”I am with you again soon”. Perhaps I was the one who got tired first.

Jörgen had a special jörgenesque way to approach problems, of all sorts; holding them up to the light and slowly turning them around, then keeping the problem fixed and moving the light, thus finding sides and aspects that one might otherwise have missed. And, without ever descending to conspiracies. Speaking of conspiracies, and people who hold them, I have had this theory for a long time, that (especially) men who were considered intelligent and capable in their teens and early twenties, have the potential to become the most stupid of all. (An insight born partly from introspection) That a combination of intellectual pride, high self esteem, not accepting that which they have not checked the details of themselves, excellent rhetorical skills, general arrogance, and a fear of becoming irrelevant, or appearing conventional, turns sour later on. Jörgen had nothing of that. He invented and shed ideas at an incredible rate, seemingly without becoming truly emotionally attached to any single one of them. He was at home in the world of ideas. I am no longer able to think about anything for long, before I wonder what Jörgen would have said about it.

When I asked him about his profession, he preferred to be seen as a ”förtydliggörare”, as someone who makes the picture sharper; the obscure clearer. And, as far as I can tell, this was a fair description of what he actually did, at work. However, privately, I think he was better at making the complex even more complex until the moment where you completely lost your direction. He excelled at both ends of that spectrum.

I wish more people had known him as I did. I will sorely miss him.

Last year, the European Go Congress was played in Markleeberg, and I scored far better than I had imagined, starting with 7/7 in the main group (but losing the last two). I woke up twice every night longing for the morning so I would get to play again. Since then I have continued to use my coaching system on myself. I felt I had gotten too comfortable with my openings, and that I was in danger of only learning that which came easy to me, so for the last year I have been focusing on stuff that I am uncomfortable with, and I have also worked on my counting skills (the ability to count how many points you and your opponent have on the board, before the game ends). I have improved in that I have a wider understanding of the game, but whether that will mean better play is not sure. To learn is to unlearn, and perhaps my newfound knowledge will produce more doubts than answers. I have not played a tournament in a year, and the games I played for Sweden in the Pandanet European Team Go A-league were not impressive. My expectations are therefore lower, but I still look forward to playing, like nothing else.

The main tournament starts on Sunday, and I will share all my games here on bagofcats.