What I got wrong about my opening repertoire

Some weeks the whole hobby comes down to one small thing, and lately that has been my opening repertoire. My opponent, a retired teacher, offered a draw with such kindness that I was suspicious for the rest of the evening. A small change to the old scoresheets ended up mattering more than all the rest put together.

Small improvements

Nothing about this is difficult in theory, which is what makes it so annoying in practice. If I had to start again, I would begin with my opening repertoire and leave everything else for later. Comparing this with last year’s notes, not much has changed except my expectations. It wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t what I was hoping for either.

The part nobody mentions

I was two pawns up and feeling pleased with myself about five moves before the whole thing fell apart. A neighbour asked about my opening repertoire last week, and I found I had less to say than I thought. I have changed my mind about my opening repertoire at least three times now.

I’ve since gone back to doing it the old way, at least for the knight on the rim. An old friend has a much simpler approach, and I suspect it’s better than mine. After a couple of years of this, the post-mortem finally started to make sense. There is a rook ending I’ve now lost from the same position twice, and I’ve written it on a card.

Done badly is still done.

Where it stands

With a minute on the clock, every plan I’d ever learned left my head at once. I wrote down what I’d done at the time, and that’s the only reason I can repeat it. Since the start of winter I’ve been trying to do less and pay more attention. I mentioned my opening repertoire to someone I met through the hobby, who laughed and told me to give it another year.

Anyway, that’s where things stand.