Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Proper and Improper Moves

This chapter in Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go is mainly taken up by a series of problems designed to give the reader a sense of what a ‘proper’ move is.

Based on these problems, if someone asked me to define a ‘proper’ move as a move that is thick, strong, nice moves that don’t leave any bad aji lying around.  They are the kinds of moves that you naturally want to make; connecting solidly, capturing solidly, summing everything up tidily without leaving behind cutting points.

Kageyama notes that it becomes harder and harder for middle- and high-level amateurs to make proper moves.  Therefore, I was rather alarmed when I got all of them right without much thought.   The correct answers just…looked right, and I couldn’t justify any of the alternatives to myself, given that Kageyama told me to look for the proper move.  I am distressed that, in some cases, I can’t imagine why some of the alternatives were given.  Even if they are less proper, why would stronger players be tempted to choose some of these moves over the correct ones?  The mind boggles.

In any case, the idea is that one plays nice, solid, proper moves whenever one can.  Quietly building nice, solid foundations prepares the battlefield for later ferocity.  If the situation is dire, however, then one might have to scramble a bit…there might not be time for proper moves.

I was recently quite impressed when watching a US Go Congress game of Yilun Yang’s on KGS….  To me, it seemed like Yilun Yang played nice, quiet, calm moves in situations in which I would imagine that many players would be thrashing around in a panic.  He won the game, somehow making it look so effortless to breeze to victory playing normal moves.

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Good Shape and Bad

“Good Shape and Bad” is another one of those chapters in Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go that touches very briefly on a very big topic.

He talks about how go has its own aesthetics, and how moves with ‘good shape’ tend to feel natural and beautiful to professional players.

The way he writes about some of the moves is wonderful; it really inspires one to try to see the board with Kageyama’s eyes.

For example, here is how Kageyama describes a diagram which makes good shape (something I think of as a ‘j’ shape, I suppose because it resembles a stumpy version of the ‘j’ shaped group in James Davies’ Life and Death):

Black’s hand should be trembling with eagerness to play 1.  He should be overcome with emotion.

How could one not desire to feel this way during one’s games?

Throughout this chapter, Kageyama discusses several board position from the point of view of shape and demonstrates how making good shape leads to getting ahead, holding initiative and pretty much everything else that’s good in life.

What sorts of bits and pieces shall I extract during this reading?  Here are a few general ideas that Kageyama develops throughout this chapter:

• Don’t make good shape just for the sake of it.
• Sometimes bad shape is the only move.
• Try not to put yourself in the situation where bad shape is the only move!
• Read things out.  Seriously.
• Sometimes, a good move for you is a move that your opponent would like to play to make good shape.
• There are some shocking ways that groups can be killed or reduced.  When thinking about such life and death problems, thinking about moves that give or take away good shape is often a good ‘way in’.
• (Hee hee!  There exists a ‘bulky 7′ nakade shape!)
• It’s been said before, it will be said again: empty triangles are officially Not Great.

I suppose one of the main things I’d like to think about more explicitly in my games is to try to think up moves that accomplish whatever goal I have in a certain area (attacking, escaping, making life, etc.) but that also leave the seeds for making good shape, and/or force my opponent to make bad shape.

For example, the shape that Charles Matthews calls the ‘table’ shape (A) is one stone away from the lovely shape (B) that black would have if black got to play 1 in Diagram 44.  (Does this have a name?  It looks like a flower to me.)

Maybe thinking about the potential of stones to form nice shapes would be helpful.

Kageyama gives a good example (the dreaded crosscut in the corner!) near the end of the chapter of a situation in which stones are sacrificed in order to make good shape.  I’m sometimes too reluctant to give up stones, and end up struggling to keep unimportant stones whilst my opponent takes over the rest of the board.  Sometimes this occurs when I am not sure which stones are most important.  Perhaps thinking about how to get good shape might offer clues as to which and how stones could be sacrificed.

Of course, as Kageyama warns, it won’t do just to mimic good shapes.  I suppose the big question is, what is it that makes good shape good.

Things that come to mind from the examples are making potential for eye-space, connecting stones together, making a shape thick enough to withstand attack or to escape a sticky situation, creating a robust enough position that the group of stones can serve more than one function….

I suppose there are many more things that could be said about what makes good shape good, but I’ll leave it here for now and close with yet another glorious Kageyama quote….

You must become infatuated with good shape.  White 1 has to spring to mind every time you see Dia. 19.  If you do not feel the same tightening in your chest as when you close your eyes and picture the face of a lover, you do not love good shape enough.

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: How to Study Joseki

Kageyama’s chapter on How to Study Joseki in Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go is an illustrated warning to all would-be joseki memorisers. Sure, Kageyama says, you can go about blindly memorising all the joseki you want, but there are a few things to remember:

* There are tens of thousands of joseki.

* Joseki sequences must be played with sensitivity to the entire board.

* Just because a move is in a certain joseki doesn’t mean it isn’t the worst possible move in the universe, given the whole-board situation.

* If you don’t know the reason for each and every move in a joseki, you might fall to bits when your opponent plays a move that’s not in the joseki sequence you’re following.

Kageyama states that studying joseki is indeed key to becoming stronger, but the focus of such study should be on understanding each and every move, so that when one looks at the board, one can find the right move for the circumstance, rather than just blindly recreating a pattern.

There are, of course, some good diagrams showing how standard joseki moves can be suboptimal with respect to whole-board situations and how punishing joseki mistakes can go wrong when one doesn’t understand the purpose of each move in a joseki.

As previously stated, the proper study of joseki isn’t the very next thing on my go to-do list. I don’t feel I have subtle enough understanding of go to understand why a certain move is the very best possible move in a given circumstance. I can make some guesses, but that’s about it at the moment. For now, I’ll continue to experiment with different openings in my own games, trying out various variations so that when I get to the study of joseki, I’ll have a repertoire of personal experiences upon which to draw.

As most of the rest of what I got out of the chapter is heavily reliant on the diagrams, I think I’m going to leave it at that for now.

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Life & Death

Unlike the previous chapters of Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go, “Life and Death” includes a number of problems for the reader to solve.

Kageyama states that the fundamental rule for living or killing is to increase/reduce eye space. Look at trying to do this first. If it works, great. If not, is there a “central eye making point” that could be occupied? If these two things fail, fanciness may be involved, but Kageyama recommends starting here when approaching life and death problems.

After some problems, Kageyama looks at an opening where there is a two-space jump along the side that is beginning to be surrounded. He demonstratesa situation where one can gain a lot more by surrounding a group of stones and letting it live than by killing some stones but making the opponent strong elsewhere:

“If Black can surround White successfully and gain outward influence, that is enough. If at the same time, he can contrive to inject some uncertainty into the question of whether White is alive or dead or what, then he will be ecstatic.”

He then gives some examples of handicap games in which he demonstrates how black should use the handicap stones to ensure that he doesn’t get surrounded and forced to live small.

Kageyama also enjoins the reader not to continue to waste stones on a group that’s alive or to play to many stones in one’s own territory once a group is alive. Sente is important, he reminds us, so don’t give it up!

The section on the enclosed two-space jump is extremely useful. In my own games, when I see two-space jumps that are beginning to become surrounded, my heart starts racing. There’s surely some way to play with these, I think. I get quite excited and then usually make some silly moves that end up helping the opponent. Or, if it’s me becoming enclosed, I panic and flail about until I ensure that I’m dead.

Of course, Kageyama has words to say about over-excitement as well:

“Does the blood rush to Black’s head at being thwarted?  I have seen a traffic safety poster that says ‘Temper causes accidents.’  Driving a car and playing go are both human activities, so what applies to one applies to the other.”

I’m sure over-excitement and anger have both caused many road accidents. Kageyama, I shall work on becoming a better driver.

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Territory and Spheres of Influence

And now, on to the next section of Kageyama’s Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Territory and Spheres of Influence.

One of the biggest points Kageyama makes in this chapter is that one should not count one’s chickens before they hatch; in the opening, players often think of an area where they have several stones as territory when it is still invadeable.  This can lead to inflexible play where players doggedly try to hold on to what they consider their territory and miss the opportunity to use their sphere of influence more effectively.  Letting the opponent live small whilst you build great thickness is very often better than hanging on to a little bit of territory. Instead of being distraught when an enemy stone is plunked down in your area of influence, Kageyama reminds the reader that this is a cause for celebration!

Kageyama also gives the reader a little pep talk about playing the opening that appeals rather than the opening that one feels one ‘should’ play.  If ginormous enemy frameworks seem frightening, plays can be made in the middle of the side to prevent them.  If terrtitory is preferred to spheres of influence, then tighter moves can be played.

That being said, Kageyama goes on to discuss when it is preferable to develop larger-scale spheres of influence and when it is preferable to play more territorially-biased moves.

When the board is completely open in the beginning, playing solid territory moves can be a bit slow.  One needs to spread out and build up influence that can be used later; else one might find oneself stuck with some very solid, but very small territories at the end of the game.

When approaching a strong enemy position, Kageyama suggests that playing more solid, territory-creating moves is often better than looser sphere-of-influence-building moves.  This is in keeping with the ‘don’t play too close to thickness’ proverb; playing loosely next to thickness invites an attack, so solid plays are preferable in these situations.

‘Don’t play too close to thickness’ applies to friendly stones as well as enemy stones.  Once one has built up a nice, thick wall, play farther away.  Seek out the opponent’s weak spots and attack.  Hopefully, this will invite fighting in the shadow of one’s big, thick wall.  As Kageyama says, “One cannot expect to turn thickness directly into territory.  The correct strategy is to have it stare down at the enemy, silent and threatening”.  The benefits come from the fighting that ensues elsewhere on the board; the opponent can’t expect a huge result in your sphere of influence, and if you can cause him or her to thrash about a bit, territory will build up elsewhere.  (This is one of those things that is easier said than done, in my experience…but I’ll keep trying, Kageyama!)

In the final part of the chapter, Kageyama details some middle game situations that involve using thick walls.  In one problem, he demonstrates a couple points that have been my downfall in some of my own games of late.

First, sometimes simply spitting the opponent’s stones isn’t very useful.  If you’re simply wedging stones between two groups that are going to live without taking any profit for yourself, the moves aren’t doing you any good and may be helping the opponent take profit instead.

Second, sometimes there’s no need to make a big fuss trying to cut an enemy off when he’s simply running away and taking no profit.  You don’t necessarily need to kill the opponent’s stones with your big, thick walls; sometimes, making them scrape for a living or run sheepishly to their friends is an excellent result.

Finally, sometimes that tried-and-true two-space extension along the third line isn’t the most appropriate move!  If you’re stones are sandwiched inbetween two big, thick, enemy walls, then other moves might be called for – like a one-space extension on the third line or a knight’s move to the fourth line.  (I have no idea when and how to play like this, but at least it’s something new on the radar!)

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: The Struggle to Get Ahead

This chapter in Kageyama’s Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go is divided into two sections, one discussing situations where lines of stones are in contact (or a close to each other) and the importance of making the types of moves that keep your stones ‘ahead’, and a discussion of entering an enemy’s framework before it is too late…and how to do so sensibly.

This chapter is dense with interesting discussions of common positions.  There are some analyses of joseki and fighting tactics that I feel would be worth rereading after starting a proper study of joseki, or after reading, say Attack and Defence.  As usual, I have very possibly made mistakes in my interpretations.  (Hmm. Maybe I need to come up with a standard disclaimer.)

The struggle to get ahead

• When rows of stones touch, the situation may be more urgent than it might seem.  The struggle to get ahead is often very important.
• These sorts of situations are where the ‘hane at the head of two stones’ proverb often comes into play.
• Of course, when you hane, be prepared for the cut.
• Don’t invade at the 3-3 point too soon – yes, you get a little profit, but it also gives the opponent huge centre influence.  Wait until giving the opponent such influence doesn’t matter so much.
• Don’t crawl any longer than is necessary – get ahead at the earliest possible moment.
• Pressing moves can sometimes help the opponent get ahead.  Perhaps when playing them, it might be useful to think about them from the point of view of the opponent attempting to get a step ahead?
• Perhaps one could say that a reason that pushing from behind is usually bad is that it helps the opponent’s stones get ahead?
• One-point jumps into the centre can be seen as a struggle to get ahead.  Just as one looks for opportunities to hane when lines of stones are in contact, look for opportunities to make knight’s moves when lines stones are one-point jumping into the centre.

Entering the enemy’s sphere of influence

• Do not jump right in the middle of the enemy’s sphere of influence.
• If someone jumps right in the middle of your sphere of influence, stay calm and don’t make lots of crazy attacking moves that end up wasting the potential of your position.
• Look, estimate the score, okay?  Just, start practicing this.
• You need to know if you’re ahead so that you can decided whether to play slow sensible moves or to take drastic action.
• When entering an enemy’s sphere of influence, don’t be too greedy!  You can’t expect lots of territory.
• In the enemy’s sphere of influence, be prepared to give up stones in order to gain leverage.

Note to self: revisit the section on the shoulder play framework reduction, the probe in Diagram 25 (this has bit me before!), the last eight diagrams, and the earlier discussion about this joseki sequence.

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: The Stones Go Walking

This chapter of Kageyama’s Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go contains one of my favourite quotes in the entire book:

‘Are White 2 to 8 really so bad for Black?’ I can hear the question coming, so here is my answer.  ‘Bad?  Preposterous would be a better word.  Look at Black’s compressed position.  Look at White’s outer influence.  Fall in love with that thick white wall.  Realize how good White’s result is.  If you cannot understand this, lay the position out on the go board every morning as soon as you get up and chant the words, “White’s thickness is superior.”‘

Okay, so walls have been on my mind lately. I have this bad habit of playing too close to my walls, and sometimes I trick myself into trying to use them to wall off a bit of territory. In a recent KGS game, I built a nice, beautiful wall, but was disappointed because my opponent managed to make a measly little group live underneath it. I built another nice, beautiful wall, then used it to wall off a useless handful of points. Why do I do these things? Because I’m not not listening to you, Kageyama! I’m forgetting the fundamentals!

Much of this chapter relies heavily on the diagrams to try to get across a taste of the ‘stones go walking’ concept. Kagayama emphasises the importance of keeping stones ‘in step’, particularly when they are in close contact. He stresses that this does not mean blindly following the direction of your opponent’s play or relying on memorised sequences.

One situation he mentions is where white attaches to the black 4-4 stone and a crosscut ensues. As Kageyama predicts, this is something I fear as a weak player. Note to self: spend some time thinking about how to deal with this. Note to potential opponents: please engineer excuses to make me respond to this crosscut. You’ll win big and I’ll get some practice!

(Hmm. Diagrams with number added by hand in gimp are a bit of a faff. There must be an easier way to do this!)

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Cutting and Connecting

Oh, Kagayama! Fear not – I haven’t forgotten you! I’ve just been digesting slowly, and writing even more slowly, okay? Surely, you approve of such an approach?

Cutting and connecting. When my game fall apart, it’s almost always because I didn’t cut or because I didn’t connect.

I suppose one of the most difficult problems for me is knowing when what looks like a cut is actually a cut (and not just a kind donation of a stone or ten to my hungry opponent), and when what looks like a connection is actually a connection. Of course, there’s also the related problem of recognising moves that cut or connect two groups that I don’t believe can be cut or connected.

However, right now we’re focusing on the fundamentals. So. Here are my (potentially flawed) back-of-the-envelope notes from Chapter 2 in Toshiro Kageyama’s Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go.

• Play ‘correct’ moves whenever possible.  Only resort to less ‘correct’ moves when the situation is dire and drastic action is needed to gain control of the game.
• “Cut where you can cut.”
• Connect to avoid being cut whenever possible.
• Never peep when you can cut.  (Peeping instead of cutting often serves to strengthen the opponent and weaken you.)
• “Even a moron connects against a peep” (unless another move is horribly urgent, like a ko in the early game).
• Ko fights early in the game are often large.  Kageyama’s advice for dealing with such a ko: “while your opponent is thinking over his ko threat, connect the ko and invite him to make two moves in a row wherever he likes, thus guarding yourself from temptation.”
• Cutting and connecting are concepts that apply just as much to whole-board thinking as close combat situations.
• Instead of thinking ‘I am defending territory’, think ‘I am connecting my stones’.
• Do not destroy your opportunities to connect your stones.  This is sometimes more important than things that look tempting, like walling off a little bit of territory or killing an opponent’s stone.
• Beware of having many isolated groups of stones.  If you have five or more independent groups, you’re often losing.

Diagrams 1, 2, 3 and 4 are critical.  Diagram 25 is one of those pictures worth a thousand words.

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go: Ladders & Nets

Some bits and pieces from Kageyama’s Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go, Chapter 1….

“When it looks like you can capture something, hold up two fingers and ask yourself two questions: (1) Can I catch it in a ladder? (2) Can I catch it in a net?”

About Ladders
1. Do not be lazy.  Read ladders.
2. Don’t wait until the ladder is broken to capture the stone.
3. Concerning ladder breaks, “Irresolution is a vice.”
4. It takes two stones to capture with a ladder (as there is the possibility of ladder breaks).

About Nets
1. It takes one stone to capture with a net.
2. “When there are two ways to capture with one move, the firmer way is correct.”
3. Choose the net over the ladder.

(Paraphrasing is mine, so approach with shakers full of salt.)

Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go

Well, what can one possibly say about Toshiro Kageyama’s Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go?

After reading Teach Yourself Go and Go For Beginners, I asked the resident 4-dan what would be a good next step. I don’t think I managed to get the entire sentence out when Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go was in my hands. If I ask for a recommendation on which Go book to read next, 9 times out of 10, he’ll say, ‘When was the last time you read Kageyama?’. When reviewing games, phrases like ‘What would Kageyama say about this?’ and ‘If you’d remembered your Kageyama…’ are not uncommon.

I love this book. I love Kageyama. He’s the kind of author that makes you fall in love with whatever it is he’s talking about. I wish I could invite him to dinner and make him some apple pie. He could sell me any number of dodgy bridges, I tell you what.  (I am sure Kageyama would never sell dodgy bridges, however!)

On the first reading, I could not visualise the ladder I was meant to be able to visualise in Chapter 1 – no way, no how. Frankly, I had more of a chance of climbing Mount Everest blindfolded. Actually, quite a bit that went whizzing right past my head on the first reading, but with a book like this, it doesn’t matter.

There is so much discussion, that no matter what level you are, you’re bound to get at least something from every chapter. Even if you get struck by the inadequacy demons, the prose is so engaging that it carries you forward.

I’ve heard some people say that Lessons in the Fundamentals of Go is overrated and that they didn’t feel there was as much substance as people make out. I suppose I’m not strong enough to argue with some of them, but I suspect that if I ever make it to dan-level play, I’ll be back here, continuing to sing his praises.

If I had to guess, I’d wonder if this weren’t partially a reaction to the almost evangelical feelings some have for the book. Maybe people who sing its praises so extremely make others inherently skeptical.

I’d also wonder if it is a response to the somewhat different style of the book. The pages aren’t dizzyingly full of diagrams and technical facts. Kageyama doesn’t batter patterns and moves into your head. There are only a handful of problems. What he does is much different: he discusses the game with you. It feels like he is there with you, personally trying to help you develop your understanding of the game as a whole. He tries to get across an overall way of thinking about and studying Go, rather than getting bogged down in the details of what one should do in this or that set of of specific circumstances.

I’ve heard people criticise it because they say Kageyama gets off track sometimes, and that there is too much discussion of unrelated things. I would say, true, Kageyama sometimes tells a little story or goes on about something or another for a bit, but I love that! It makes the book engaging, and allows Kageyama’s personality to shine through.

Sometimes, it feels as if he’s in your living room, having a chat. His love for the game screams through the printed text so loudly, reading it makes one long to see Go through his eyes. When I read Kageyama, I feel fully engaged and end up having any number of conversations with him in my head. (Actually, should I admit this?)

This is the Go book that gets loaned out the most. A third copy has just been obtained for the house, as the other two are currently making the rounds and it never hurts to have another one kicking about.

Well, here I am, just starting to dip in again, and looking forward to the road ahead. When I told the resident 4-dan that I was rereading Kageyama for the second time, he looked at me as if I had just sprouted green antennae and said with a pretty good Vizzini accent, “You made it to 8 kyu without reading Kageyama more than once? Inconceivable!” Okay, maybe I have left it a bit too long!

I am hoping that a proper read will help me out of my current rut. I have high hopes – Kageyama seems to know exactly where I’m coming from:

Although it depends on the individual, in my experience you will encounter four barriers: at 12-13 kyu, at 8-9 kyu, at 4-5 kyu, and at 1-2 kyu. You are at a barrier where your strength ceases to rise and you find yourself playing for gun, as an exchange of ideas – any opponent will do. Studying books gets you nowhere….This condition is unbearable, yet how many go players find themselves in it? Almost all? If so, it would be a crime just to let them go on as they are, and that is why I am writing this book….

Oh, with Kageyama on my side, surely improvement is possible!