Ainshent and Justified

Some chess openings are ainshent and justified. Sometimes I feel guided as I play them. I have an intuitive feel for what the objectives are. Does my opponent? Sometimes I find my opponent does not have a plan at all. They bounce from one tempo to the next, looking for tactical gotcha's. That is a cheap, frivolous way to play. That is how I know that they do not take the game seriously. They might glance at the board over a coffee. But they are not really studying the game, not like I am. Not many players, I find, bother going deep. I immerse myself in some positions. I reach a point where I am guided, by logic, perhaps. But I can almost feel the hand of a master on my shoulder and his breath whispering against my ear, "No, not there. Over here, you see... Yes, it is clear... They have overlooked... They are not prepared for..." It is pleasant and comforting.

When I was a boy, my older brother talked like an advanced player when he discussed chess. He introduced words he never used outside the context of chess. He had absorbed a certain vocabulary from chess books and magazines. I, in turn, absorbed from him second-hand the same words, ideas, and attitudes, becoming the logical chessplayer. Perhaps I project such words in, say, the spectral form of GM Tartakower, who was such a good-looking grandmaster, judging by Wikipedia's photo. It would be nice to conjure up such a presence for consultation, I should think.