> Chess is both an art and a science, a delicate balance where intuition meets calculation. It’s not just about memorizing moves; it’s about understanding the intricate patterns and psychological elements of the game. Every match is a unique story, and recognizing the beauty within those complexities truly enhances my passion for it.
> Success requires an unyielding dedication to improvement. I’ve learned that the real challenge lies in pushing my limits and constantly evolving, not just as a player but as a person. “You have to embrace the grind and be comfortable with discomfort,” as it's in those moments of struggle that genuine growth occurs.
> When it comes to the greatest football player of all time, I lean towards Messi. His all-around game and superior statistics make a strong case. While World Cups get a lot of attention, I think they’re overrated given their small sample size. For me, the magic in football comes from skills and creativity, not necessarily from winning these big titles.
> In the debate between Michael Jordan and LeBron James, my opinion varies based on whom I’m talking to and my mood. Statistically, LeBron is set to surpass Jordan, but the debate between quantifiable and unquantifiable greatness is what makes this conversation so engaging. I usually lean towards the quantifiable, valuing statistics over unmeasurable greatness.
> On the topic of pressure in sports, I believe it's often oversimplified. People romanticize rising under pressure or breaking under it, but I think there's more to it than that. The small sample sizes in events like the World Cup or the Olympics add to their magic but shouldn't overshadow consistent statistical excellence.
> Over different peaks in my career, my playing style has evolved. In 2019, I focused more on opening preparation, while in 2013-2014, I excelled in avoiding opponents' prep. My intuitive understanding of chess has always been a strength for me.
> Calculation has been a challenge for me. I struggle with deep exercises and concentrating on them. But I excel at evaluating positions and calculating short lines effectively, relying on intuition and knowledge to make decisions quickly.
> When playing, I visualize the board in a two-dimensional way without many colors. I focus on one board at a time, storing away other positions mentally. Spending too long on a move, like 30 minutes, can often lead to inefficiency. 10-15 minutes is usually enough to navigate the complexity of the middle game, combining calculation, creativity, and evaluation.
> Understanding the end game is all about evaluation and technique. "If you evaluate well at the start, you know what plans to go for," which allows you to create a cohesive strategy. It’s about “constantly improving a little bit,” suffocating the position as you go, leading to a successful endgame.
> Also, the beauty lies in simplicity; "these are moves that a lot of players could make," not just the elite. It’s a dance of small advantages that accumulates over time, making complex decisions feel more manageable and ultimately guiding me toward victory.
> Opening Strategies and Evolving Challenges: In modern chess, it's crucial to innovate and find lines that engines might miss or undervalue at low depths. While Kasparov gained significant advantages from rigorous opening preparations and early use of computer engines, today’s equal playing field demands surprising the opponent and being ready for 'semi-bluffs' that even out eventual positions.
> Impact of Neural Networks and Man vs. Machine: Upon encountering AlphaZero's play, I was deeply inspired, finding its novel approach to sacrifices and positional domination fascinating. The way it evaluates sacrifices—often waiting long periods for tangible returns—is something uniquely challenging and different from human playstyle.
> The Enduring Appeal of Chess's Diversity: Chess's lasting appeal stems from the dynamic interplay between pieces like the bishop and knight. Unlike Shogi, where most pieces have limited power, chess offers a rich variety and complexity due to the unique movements and relative powers of its pieces, making it continuously engaging and competitive.
> Playing Fischer Random Chess, or Chess 960, with randomly arranged pieces on the board adds an exciting twist to the game. It challenges players to think on their feet and rely on intuition rather than memorization. The variety of starting positions in Chess 960 creates diverse and interesting games that push players to be creative and adaptable.
> Symmetry can often lead to predictable and less dynamic chess games, but in Chess 960, where the starting positions are far from ideal, symmetry becomes a valuable strategy. Embracing asymmetry in the game can lead to more decisive outcomes and keep the games fresh and engaging, making the overall chess experience more challenging and rewarding.
> Exploring different chess variants has been a fascinating journey for me; removing castling, for instance, really shifts the dynamics. "It forces you to be a little bit more offensive," which can lead to more engaging and less drawish games.
> Then there's the idea of self-capturing pieces, which adds a unique twist to strategy. It’s all about "adding an extra element of clearance," making the game more unpredictable and exhilarating while still respecting the classic format that has stood the test of time for over a thousand years.
> Striving for a FIDE rating of 2900 is incredibly challenging. My current rating is 2861, and to push it further, I'd need near-perfect optimization in matchups and preparation because even a single slip can derail the progress. This goal serves as a motivation to keep me sharp and constantly striving to maximize my performance.
> The World Championship has a uniquely intense pressure because, for me, it's more about the fear of losing than the joy of winning. While other tournaments bring me joy and satisfaction, the World Championship mainly brings relief upon winning. This fear and anxiety are why I decided not to play in future World Championships; it's too mentally draining when the whole journey becomes about avoiding a loss.
> The World Championship match I truly enjoyed was against Fabiano Caruana in 2018. Our ratings were almost equal, making each game fiercely competitive and engaging. Unlike other matches where I felt a stark disparity in skill, this one was a battle of equals, making it intellectually stimulating and less stressful, as losing wouldn't feel like an unacceptable failure.
> Playing in the World Championship with a low sample size of games can hinder determining the best player in a particular matchup. More games are needed to increase chances of finding the best player and to emphasize pure chess.
> A potential change to World Championship format could involve playing two games per day with shorter time controls, enhancing the competitive nature and strategy required for each match.
> While it seemed I had decided not to play the World Championship, the emergence of an exciting young player like Alireza Firouzja as a potential challenger motivated me to reconsider and sparked a renewed interest in competing.
> Reflecting on my past titles and decisions concerning the World Championship, I realized that being rated number one in the world over time has brought me more pride than the championship victories themselves.
> In high-stakes chess games, nerves and anxiety can creep in, especially during critical moments like game 10 of the 2018 World Championship. Despite pre-game nerves, once in the match, it's all business, with trust in my instincts and skills to guide me through.
> Reflecting on my time in the 2016 World Championship, I can’t forget the moment during game eight where I let impatience get the best of me. I knew that “he couldn’t beat me unless I beat myself,” but I took risks that ultimately led to a serious blunder. It was tough – realizing I might lose my title over my own mistakes was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced after a game.
> After game eight, I tried something completely unorthodox for me; I went out and got drunk with my team. Just that one time, I needed to forget all the pressure, and even though it felt strange, it gave me a bit of relief. By game nine, I was a little more relaxed, but the tension lingered until I finally found a way to lift that weight off my shoulders in game ten.
> Losing has always ignited a fire in me, often leading to exceptional performances afterward. While my mentality isn’t the healthiest, I’ve learned to be a bit more carefree about losses these days. I've discovered that nurturing a “love for winning” ultimately creates lasting enjoyment in the game, making it more fun in the long run.
> On a day of a big chess match, my ideal routine is pretty relaxed: I wake up late, go for a walk, maybe listen to some podcasts, and engage in non-chess related activities like watching NBA games. After a substantial lunch, I head to the game and then unwind post-match, enjoying a good routine that keeps me happy and feeling well.
> Dealing with public attention, especially in Norway, I manage by using big headphones to block out the world and avoid eye contact. It helps me stay in my own world and keeps interactions manageable. While people's goodwill is appreciated, these strategies allow me to maintain my focus without being overwhelmed.
> My approach to game analysis is quite loose; I rarely do structured reviews and mostly have a good sense of my games. In terms of diet, I avoid heavy or sugary foods to keep my blood sugar stable, usually eating twice a day during tournaments. I haven’t experimented much with playing fasted, but it’s an intriguing idea since maintaining stable energy levels is crucial for precision.
> When playing blitz chess, a little bit of alcohol can enhance intuition and confidence. It can help remove barriers and make you feel more relaxed, leading to better performance.
> Training under different conditions, like extreme exhaustion or with a relaxed mind from a drink, can stimulate creativity and unlock different parts of your brain. It's about finding a balance and trying new things occasionally to keep training fun and effective.
> "I've always liked doing sports, but at times, I've let myself go a little bit." It's interesting how the passion for sports provides a necessary escape, allowing me to forget about my chess obsessions while simultaneously enhancing my mental agility.
> "I'm not a poster boy for deliberate practice." The way I engage with chess is much more organic; I prefer to absorb knowledge from books and articles rather than rigid training schedules. It’s about enjoying the process rather than forcing myself into a specific routine.
> "If I just juggle a ball, that makes me feel better before a game." The little things, like juggling a ball or playing a sport, can create a mental shift, allowing me to focus and relax before diving back into chess. It’s about finding balance in both my pursuits and my downtime.
> Turning down Kasparov as a coach was a significant decision rooted in my need for autonomy and enjoyment in chess. The structured approach he suggested didn't resonate with me; I play for fun, and this method felt cumbersome.
> Facing Kasparov at 13 was surreal. Despite losing two games and drawing one, I gained invaluable experience. It was a tough match, and while the draw was significant, I didn't see it as a grand triumph—more like an early indicator of potential.
> Collaboration with Kasparov in 2009 was more meaningful to me. We played many training games, and though it was a balanced fight, these sessions were valuable. They truly helped shape my skills, more so than the notable but less impactful game when I was a teen.
> Fisher's dominance during 1970-72 stood out as unparalleled, winning 20 games in a row with powerful play and minimal mistakes, displaying a gap ahead of his time. Kasparov's longevity and ability to beat generations over 20 years was impressive, although not as dominant as Fisher. I, on the other hand, highlight being unbeaten world champion, holding the highest chess rating, and maintaining a long streak without losses in a more competitive era.
> Reflecting on Young Kasparov's games, his overflow of energy and extreme aggression in play appeal to me, showing a style I admire. While I find classic games interesting for learning, I don't rank them or dwell on the greatest game ever played, focusing instead on learning from various games that catch my attention.
> My most satisfying tournament victory was the Norwegian U-11 Championship in 2000, where I initially felt anxious and drew unexpectedly but eventually emerged as the best, igniting my belief in my potential. Starting chess relatively late, I aimed to be the best in Norway first and gradually realized the possibility of aiming for the world's number one spot, driven by my unmatched passion and dedication to learning.
> One of the key insights I've taken away is the importance of cultivating a true love for chess. "Be obsessed," I say, and truly, it transforms the experience; when you’re deeply passionate, it doesn’t feel like a grind.
> Another significant point is the freedom to explore and learn on my own terms. Having had coaches who were "very hands-off" allowed me to develop my own approach—when the pressure is off and it’s not just about doing homework, I naturally invest hours into the game without feeling like it’s a chore.
> "When it comes to YouTubers, I think channels like GothamChess, Agadmator, St. Louis Chess Club, Daniel Naroditsky, and John Bartholomew are really good. It's amusing because the only chess YouTube video my dad has ever watched from start to finish is from Agadmator, and he genuinely enjoyed it."
> "The Evans Gambit came up interestingly as well. It's an old opening from the 1800s, but it's funny because my dad plays lots of gambits and comes up with his own lines. He loves sharing his games and ideas, and it's something we often discuss. It’s a part of that shared love for chess."
> One of the most valuable lessons my father taught me was that as long as you win at chess, everything else falls into place. He never planned for me to be a professional player, but his support and guidance shaped my career. Despite initial disagreements about education, my parents eventually embraced my success in chess and have always had my back unconditionally. The family support and love I've received, especially from my father, has been crucial in my journey. Surrounding yourself with people who genuinely care about you is essential, and my father has always been an unwavering presence in my corner, ensuring I have the support I need to thrive in the often solitary world of chess.
> In life, as with chess, the essence lies in learning to make “informed guesses in a limited amount of time.” It’s not just about playing to win; sometimes, it's about letting your opponent make the wrong move—“don’t interrupt your enemy when they’re making a mistake.”
> The dynamics of decision-making in chess can translate to broader contexts, like geopolitics. It’s frustrating to see leaders act against sound judgment instead of recognizing when to do nothing, much like how in chess, you might be better off allowing an opponent to continue their poor strategy.
> First of all, I was genuinely impressed with how accurately "The Queen's Gambit" portrayed the chess. They featured actual games and positions that even I hadn't seen before, which captivated me to the point of sometimes losing track of the storyline and just focusing on solving the positions.
> One of the fascinating aspects was how Beth Harmon’s style evolved throughout the show. She started out very aggressive but ended up becoming a totally universal player. This development mirrors my own journey in chess—from being too aggressive to becoming overly technical and finally evolving into a more dynamic and balanced player.
> Bluffing in poker and chess holds different appeal; in poker, it's about the thrill of gambling, while in chess, it's the satisfaction of outwitting the opponent. The element of storytelling through betting adds a unique layer to the game.
> Trash talking is easier when you're the best and can back it up. It's not about skill in talking but the ability to support your claims. Trash talk can be a part of chess, adding a humorous element, especially in fan or blitz games.
> Life as a chess player can indeed feel quite lonely. "A chess player's life is by definition pretty lonely," but I've learned that acknowledging this solitude helps. It's about facing myself and my own mind without blame; it's part of the game, and as long as I'm aware of it, I’m fine.
> When it comes to love, I've realized it’s about living authentically. "Trying to live my best life" makes me more open to love when it arrives. I've experienced the highs and lows of romantic love, but instead of getting stressed over it, I focus on being a better version of myself—because stressing over love is really just a blueprint for unhappiness.
> Two key takeaways from my conversation that stick with me are centered around my perspective on life and chess. First, when discussing the meaning of life, I shared, "there's obviously no meaning to life... we're here by accident." However, despite this view, I emphasized that life can still be enjoyable and fulfilling through pursuing goals that bring happiness in both the short and long term. Second, on a lighter note, I clarified the movement of the knight in chess and admitted my preference for bishops over knights, stating, "I just prefer quality over the intangibles," though I can still "appreciate a good knight once in a while."