Like many people, I got really into chess during the pandemic. I’ve never been particularly good — I basically hover around 1000 ELO — but I went deep down Youtube rabbit holes on chess theory, mostly out of boredom.
The thing I learned quickly was that, if one side makes even a slight mistake or deviation during the opening, that mistake can have cascading effects through the rest of the game. Most of the best chess players now work from an “engine” — a computer program that can tell the best move in any circumstance for maximum leverage — and drill their opening and middlegame to make sure they are making the best moves. Frequently, that means getting a slight advantage and trading down equal pieces until you reach the endgame.
Some endgame scenarios are a draw under all circumstances, even where one side might have an ostensible advantage. For instance, it is impossible to get checkmate where one side has a king and bishop against a king, or a king and knight against a king. In other scenarios, the pawns may be in a position where it’s impossible to clear the path for promotion (a pawn making it all the way to the other end of the board and becoming a queen), and the pieces left may be unable to clear the logjam. Grand masters can look at the board in these scenarios and know instantly whether there is a path to victory or not.
The best player in the world is a guy from Norway named Magnus Carlsen. He might be the best player ever, but it’s difficult to say because the other contenders weren’t playing in an era of computerized training. Carlsen’s genius seems to be that (a) he’s really good at creating and memorizing obscure lines that take his opponents out of their “prep,” and (b) he’s maybe the best endgame player in the history of the game. Carlsen frequently gets his opponents to make a mistake that gives him the slightest amount of leverage — an extra pawn, or just a change in the structure of the pawns that will give him an opportunity to advance later — and he exploits and expands that slight advantage until most of the pieces are off the board and that advantage becomes unstoppable. There are scenarios where other grand masters might think the game is an inevitable draw, but Carlsen finds a way to methodically whittle down the board until he’s got a path to victory. The guy is an absolute magician.
Iowa scored two touchdowns in its first two offensive series Saturday against Utah State. The first one was on the second play of the season, the first time Iowa has completed a touchdown pass in its first drive of the season since 1991.
The second score came on a classic Ferentz design: Lining up in a goalline formation and sneaking the fullback — this time, tight end Erick All — into the flat for a play action pass. It looked like the game could quickly turn into a rout.
And then it didn’t. Iowa’s offense stagnated, scoring just a field goal over the next 37 minutes of game time. Utah State was unable to capitalize, scoring just six points during that stretch; while the Aggies moved the ball more effectively during that time period, they were just trading yardage for time. When Kaleb Johnson finally scored Iowa’s third touchdown with 10 minutes left in the game, there was essentially no chance of Utah State making up the 18 point deficit on the scoreboard.
It wasn’t the dominant performance that would have put all of us at ease. Iowa looked effective on offense for a short period, but 284 yards of offense and a sack-adjusted 3.0 yards per carry rushing isn’t sufficient on its face, nor is 24 points for a number of reasons. But Kirk Ferentz has settled into his chess master stage at this point. He got an advantage in the opening, and any mistake was only going to potentially give that up. Rather than risk it, he traded down the pieces on the board and reached an endgame he knew he would win. It wasn’t a tactical win, with the flourish of a queen sacrifice or a masterful checkmate sequence. It was attritional; when the dust cleared, he could advance Kaleb Johnson to promotion and win the game.
This is essentially how Iowa wins football games now, not with wall-to-wall dominance, but rather with small advantages exploited and then protected. Since the “That’s Football” meltdown against Nebraska in the 2014 regular season finale, Iowa is 62-2 in games where it holds a lead of eight points or more at any point in the game. In modern football, a two-score lead is good for a fleeting moment. At Iowa, it’s practically game over. Phil Parker’s defense navigates the middlegame, and Ferentz can eventually get the pawn to the eighth rank.
Other Notes
Obviously, 24 points on a Utah State defense that was ranked 108th in defensive SP+ entering the season doesn’t bode well for Brian’s contract extension. He’ll face 107th-ranked Western Michigan in a couple of weeks, but the remainder of the schedule looks much more difficult (Illinois, Penn State, Wisconsin and Minnesota are all in the top 10 nationally). Also, we may be underestimating the effect of the new clock rules, which throttled down the number of possessions considerably, particularly for teams not running at tempo.
We’re going to have to address what happens if McNamara is in the C.J. Beathard 2016 Always a Bit Injured Zone, because that seems to be the case from the last few weeks, and lingering injuries don’t normally just heal up during the grind of the football season. Iowa doesn’t have a bye until the final weekend in October to get him some rest, either. We may need to prepare for a significant dose of Absolute Unit Deacon Hill in low- to medium-leverage situations.
McNamara was effusive in his praise for the offensive line after the game, but the amateur eye saw some of the same deficiencies that plagued Iowa last season, especially in the run game. It was slightly encouraging to see Iowa use slightly more run game diversity that normal Saturday, but this is still heavily reliant on the outside zone, and learning the intricacies of that takes some time. There just isn’t that much time left, especially with Iowa State this week.
The defense held up against an up-tempo attack with field temperatures somewhere in the 110s. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
I've been wondering about the new clock rule. Ferentz wants to shorten the game, reduce the number of possessions. This new rule does that for him, but by how much? Seems like it may put at least a bit more pressure on Brian to get his points.