Djokovic Ties Nadal's Career Grand Slam Singles Titles Record

Novak Djokovic just won his record 10th Australian Open singles title, tying Rafael Nadal's record for career Grand Slam singles titles (22), and matching Nadal's feat of winning at least 10 titles at the same Grand Slam; Nadal holds the record for victories in a single Grand Slam event with 14 French Open titles.

It is interesting to recall that Roy Emerson was the first player who dominated the Australian Open, winning six singles titles there to hold the event's record until Djokovic surpassed him in 2019. Emerson also held the career Grand Slam singles title record (12) until Pete Sampras won his 13th in 2000. Emerson was an all-time great, but even at his peak he was not given much consideration in the greatest player of all-time conversation for several reasons, including (1) he won all of his Grand Slam titles as an amateur before the Open Era (when professionals were permitted to compete for Grand Slam titles), (2) half of his Grand Slam wins came in the least important Grand Slam (Australian Open), (3) outside of the Australian Open he won six of the 45 Grand Slam singles events that he entered (.133), and (4) Rod Laver dominated their head to head rivalry when they were both amateurs before the Open Era and then when they were both professionals during the Open Era. A good case could be made that Laver was the greatest tennis player prior to the Open Era.

For most of the history of the Australian Open, the top non-Australian players often skipped the event. Bjorn Borg played there once. Jimmy Connors played there twice in a Grand Slam singles career extending from 1969-1992. John McEnroe played there five times in his career, but only twice in his first 12 years on the professional tour.

Djokovic has been more productive on more surfaces for a longer period of time against stronger competition than Emerson, but Djokovic is similar to Emerson in the sense that the other great players of his era have won more often in the more prestigious Grand Slams. 

Comparing Djokovic's career Grand Slam totals in four Grand Slam events to the Grand Slam totals of other greats who spent most of their careers only playing in three Grand Slam events ignores historical context, particularly because 10 of Djokovic's 22 Grand Slam wins came in the Australian Open. In short, I would not rank Djokovic as the greatest player of the Open Era, let alone of all-time--at least not on the basis of Grand Slam success or dominance. 

Djokovic has won 22 of the 69 Grand Slam singles events that he entered, a winning percentage of .319, but without the Australian Open--by far the least historically significant Grand Slam--he has won eight out of 51 (.157), which is more comparable with Ivan Lendl's career numbers (eight out of 57 overall, .140) than with the career numbers posted by the players who usually headline the greatest player of all-time conversation (no disrespect intended toward Lendl, who is actually a very underrated great player).

Nadal has won 22 of the 67 Grand Slam singles events that he entered (.328), while Federer won 20 out of 81 (.247). Federer's fans argue that his long career lowered his winning percentage, but that is not the whole story. Federer's Grand Slam career started slowly--he did not win a title in his first 16 Grand Slam appearances (and that excludes two other times that he lost in the qualification rounds before even reaching the main draw). Then, in his prime he could not beat Nadal at the French Open before finally also losing to him at Wimbledon; at no point was Federer's Grand Slam winning percentage as good as Nadal's at a similar point in his career.

Federer has now dropped from joint second place to third place on the career Grand Slam singles titles list with 20 wins, but I doubt that will lower the volume of those who insist that he is the greatest tennis player of all-time. Federer's adoring fans have consistently been immune to facts, logic, and numbers; they supported him even though Nadal dominated him head to head throughout the overlapping portion of their careers, they supported him after Nadal conquered him on his best surface (in 2008 on the grass at Wimbledon), and they supported him after Nadal surpassed him in career Grand Slam singles titles--even though the primary reason for Federer's alleged superiority was supposed to be Federer's overall dominance of all surfaces and all Grand Slams.

Bjorn Borg, the Sandy Koufax of tennis, should be front and center in any greatest player conversations, but his name is too often not mentioned, the same way that great players from the past in other sports are also being forgotten. Borg holds the career Grand Slam singles winning percentage record (11/28, .393), and he accomplished that despite skipping the Australian Open in nine of the 10 years that he played in at least one Grand Slam. The supposed brevity of Borg's career is sometimes criticized, but he won at least one Grand Slam for eight straight years, a longevity record that stood from 1981 until Pete Sampras matched that mark in 1993. Federer later tied the record as well (2010), and only Nadal has broken it (10). Borg's reign at the top of Grand Slam tennis is actually one of the longest, at least in the Open Era.

If Federer's fans ever become intellectually honest, they will have to concede (1) Federer never achieved the simultaneous two surface dominance that Borg did when Borg simultaneously held the modern career records for French Open singles titles (six) and Wimbledon singles titles (five), and (2) Federer's career Grand Slam singles totals--the last straw that his fans desperately clung to--have been surpassed not only by Nadal but also by Djokovic (albeit with the caveat that Djokovic's Grand Slam career is not as impressive overall, for the reasons stated above).

Journey to the National Master Title, Part 1

The title of this series of articles is not meant to be presumptuous; although I am confident that I will obtain the National Master title, I understand that it is not 100% certain that I will obtain the National Master title, and that is the reason that "journey" is included in the title: whether or not I make it to the desired destination, I intend to chronicle my experiences during the journey.

I am inspired in part by a series of Chess Life articles Larry Remlinger wrote over 30 years ago about his quest to obtain the International Master title. Remlinger returned to chess as an adult after a long hiatus following his success as a junior player, while I have been playing tournament chess continuously for over 35 years, but the larger concept of his series of articles and my planned series of articles is the same: discussing the challenges faced by an adult player attempting to attain a specific rating goal or title status.

The Journey Begins

I learned to play chess when I was around eight years old, but my game took its first significant leap at age 13 after meeting Earle Wikle and his mentor Dr. Harold Wright when they organized a chess club at my junior high school during the 1984-85 school year. Wikle was by far the best chess player I had met up to that time; learning from him and playing unrated training games against him elevated my skills and helped me understand what it would take to become an Expert.

I joined the Dayton Chess Club (DCC) and the U.S. Chess Federation (USCF) in 1986. After playing in various unrated DCC events in 1986 and 1987, I played in the Greater Dayton High School Individual Championship in February 1987. I scored 2/4, but for some reason lost to history the event's results were never submitted to the USCF and thus the event was never rated. I played in the Greater Dayton High School Individual Championship each year from 1987-89, but never won a prize. Those were the only scholastic tournaments of my career (scholastic tournaments were much less common in the 1980s than they are now). After failing to reach the winner's circle as a junior, I take some consolation that I am two for two in senior (age 50+) tournaments, with third place finishes in the Ohio Senior Championship in 2021 and 2022.

Although the USCF's online records only go back to late 1991, my personal records (including printouts of old crosstables from my earliest tournaments) enable me to track my rating progress for all 3338 regular or dual rated games that I have played.

Officially, I played in my first USCF rated tournament in July 1987, scoring 0/5 in the Gem City Open to obtain a provisional rating of 1186. I won my first rated game on October 25, 1987, defeating Daniel Burns (1593) in round four of the Roosevelt Open.

At the end of 1987, my record in rated games was two wins, 12 losses, and one draw, and I had increased my rating to 1408. My first non-provisional rating was 1398.

By the end of 1988, my rating was 1533. Tien Chou held his first Miamisburg Tornado tournament in January 1988, and the timing was perfect for me, as there were not many local rated events at that time. Playing in the Miamisburg Tornado every month helped me to gain experience and rating points. Chou, a strong Expert who later achieved the National Master title as an "older" player (i.e., in his late 40s or early 50s), provided me with printouts of Sicilian Najdorf analysis, and he was always willing to analyze together after we played a rated game. I was very proud when I became strong enough to not only give him a good game but to even score an occasional draw or win against him. Chou won the 1988 Dayton Chess Club Championship.

I made tremendous progress in 1989, peaking at 1895 by the end of December. The monthly rating supplements issued by the USCF at that time listed the top 50 players in the country by various age categories. One of those categories was 17-18, and I narrowly missed qualifying for that list in 1989, which would have been quite a feat for someone who was almost 16 by the time he played his first rated game. 

After gaining over 800 points from June 1987 through December 1989, it seemed that I would make Expert (2000) soon--but then my rating dropped, and I spent two years in an up and down cycle before surpassing 1900 for the first time in January 1992. It took me longer to go from 1800 to 1900 than it took me to go from 1186 to 1800, and that foreshadowed the challenges I would face before surpassing the 2000 and 2100 rating levels.

Achieving the Expert Title

I finally made Expert on May 13, 1995, scoring 3/4 in the Springfield Tornado to tie for second through fourth while pushing my rating from 1981 to 2012. I first surpassed the 2100 level on June 10, 2000, scoring 2.5/4 in the OSU June Tornado to increase my rating from 2096 to 2114. In that tournament, I defeated Steve Wygle (2279) and drew with Chuck Diebert (2200), but I lost to Felikss Grankins (2224), who took clear first with 3.5/4. I did not maintain a 2100 rating for very long, and after I dropped below 2100 I did not break that barrier again for over a decade, though I did reach 2085 in December 2009, and I pushed past 2050 on multiple occasions only to then fall back below that mark.

I returned to 2100 in style, scoring 4/4 to tie for first place in the June 12, 2011 North Market Swiss, finishing with a rating of 2101. For the rest of 2011, my rating fluctuated right around 2100. After I dropped below 2100 on October 9, 2011, I did not cross the 2100 barrier again until August 11, 2013, when I scored 4/5 in the U2100 section of the Cleveland Open, tying for second-eighth, and finishing with a rating of 2112, just two points short of setting a new career-high. I fell below 2100 in my next tournament (the 2013 Indianapolis Open), and I did not surpass 2100 again until February 23, 2014, when I scored 4/4 to finish clear first in the North Market Swiss, increasing my rating from 2087 to 2129 (new career-high). I peaked at 2190 on May 2, 2015 after scoring 6/6 to win my record 10th Dayton Chess Club Championship. I maintained a 2100+ rating until March 13, 2016.

On August 27, 2016, I scored 3/4 in the Cincinnati Tornado and pushed my rating to 2109. I maintained a 2100+ rating for two months, peaking at 2150. My rating has been below 2100 since October 29, 2016. After 2016, the highest rating that I have reached is 2080 when I scored 4/4 to take clear first in the October 15, 2022 Cincinnati Tornado.

USCF Titles/Wins Against Masters/FIDE Rating

The USCF awards titles based on attaining a minimum performance level in at least five tournaments. I earned the Class C and Class D titles simultaneously in December 1991, the Class B title in May 1992, the Class A title in September 1992, and the Candidate Master title in November 1997. I have obtained three of the five norms for a Master title, but in order to earn that title I not only need two more norms but I must surpass the 2200 rating level (regardless of how many norms you obtain, you cannot receive a title without also reaching the minimum rating level for that title). 

The USCF's online records credit me with 77 wins versus players rated at least 2200, but the correct total is 79; I won two games in the early 1990s against players whose official ratings were over 2200 at the time I played them, but whose live ratings were a bit below 2200 by the time those wins were rated (in those days, official ratings often lagged a bit behind live ratings, and tournaments were often not rated quickly or in sequential order). Both of those players who I beat subsequently maintained a 2200+ rating for at least 60 games (and one of them became a Life Master), so by any reasonable standard those wins should be tallied as wins against Masters because my opponents proved to be Master level players before and after I beat them. I wonder how many players who have yet to become a Master have won 79 games against Masters?

My peak FIDE rating is 1974, and my current FIDE rating is 1793. My current journey is focused on reaching 2200 USCF, but if/when I complete that journey I intend to then focus on a FIDE rating journey.

Lessons Learned Thus Far 

The formula for becoming an Expert is straightforward--not easy (which is why fewer than 5% of all chess players reach Expert level), but straightforward: improve your tactics, reduce the frequency of your major blunders, develop a basic opening repertoire (at least one primary opening move as White, at least one Black defense against e4, and at least one Black defense against d4/c4/Nf3), and cultivate the ability to play basic endgames competently on a consistent basis. It is a great idea to annotate your games and create notebooks of those annotated games, but I must admit that I did not do that consistently until I had already become an Expert.

Some very strong players (2500+) insist that a player should always play in Open sections and never play in lower rated sections, while other very strong players (2500+) insist that a player should demonstrate dominance at each Class level before playing in Open sections. I have concluded that either method is valid, provided that the player is studying the right way, and cultivating the right in-game habits. My advice would be that if psychologically you can deal with losing a lot of games then perhaps it may be better to just play Open sections, but if the inevitable losing is going to discourage you too much then stick to Class sections while making sure that you have a plan to advance out of whatever your current Class is. 

Statistically, a player who outrates you by 100 points scores 60% against you. That means, for example, that if you are rated 1700 and you can figure out how to score 50% against 1800s then you can become an 1800 (assuming that your winning percentages against other categories of players are not below par). I have found it most helpful--for myself, and for my students during the two decades that I taught private lessons--to focus on advancing 100 points at a time, because changing the margin from 4/10 to 5/10 against slightly stronger players is attainable in the short term, but trying to jump from 2/10 to 5/10 versus significantly stronger players is a bit much for a short term goal.

At the 1987 Gem City Open, I bought two important books from National Master James Schroeder: Modern Chess Openings, 12th Edition (MCO 12) and Reuben Fine's Basic Chess Endings. After every subsequent game that I played for many years, I looked up the opening in MCO 12, and if the game reached an endgame then I looked up that endgame in Basic Chess Endings. I know that there are many excellent online opening and endgame resources available now, but I still think that those books have value for players who are trying to advance from the Class ranks to Expert and beyond.

I honed my tactics by spending many fun hours playing five minute chess at the Dayton Chess Club, battling the strongest players who were willing to play me (some would only play me with time odds, and I took pride in becoming fast enough and good enough that they eventually stopped giving me odds). After every five minute game that I lost, I asked my opponent to briefly explain what I did wrong. Of course, today players can play chess at various time controls on their own schedule on the internet, and can then use an engine to find out what they did wrong.

FIDE Master Ken Smith once declared that until a player reaches at least Expert level his first name, middle name, and last name must be tactics! I agree with Smith that tactics are critically important for advancing through the Class player ranks to become an Expert, but I would emphasize the difference between tactical sharpness and tactical awareness. Tactical sharpness means being able to solve a tactic, while tactical awareness means noticing without prompting that a tactical opportunity exists; the difference between these two skills explains why there are some players who have very high online tactics ratings but much more modest ratings for game play: during a game, no one will tap you on the shoulder and say, "There is a tactical opportunity here"--but when you are solving tactics you have already been "told" this.

I reached an 1895 USCF rating mainly on the strength of tactics (and a decent knowledge of opening theory for a player below Expert level), but a major reason that my progress stalled at that stage was my lack of endgame understanding specifically, and positional understanding generally. Working on those weaknesses helped me to become an Expert, and further refinement of those skills resulted in me maintaining a 2100+ rating for an extended period.

I believe that the main reason I have yet to reach the 2200 level is that I blunder more frequently than Masters do (and I also make "worse" blunders: a Master does not play flawlessly, but rarely makes one move that is bad enough to lead to immediate defeat). Identifying the problem correctly is one thing, but solving the problem is quite another matter! 

Throughout my chess career, I have tended to blunder more often than a player of whatever level I was at that time, but I have also tended to be able to play "above" my rating (which explains those 79 wins against Masters). It is well documented that as players age they tend to blunder more frequently, so my challenge is not only to correct a decades-old weakness but to do so while fighting Father Time.  

Blundering is a problem for chess players of all levels; the general recommendations to address a blundering problem are to (1) slow down, (2) to look at all possible checks/captures before moving, (3) and to practice emotional regulation during the game (avoid overconfidence, but also avoid lack of confidence that could result in hesitation to enter tactical melees).

It is possible that I have yet to objectively identify why I have not reached the 2200 level, but I am pretty sure that I have figured out the issue even if I have yet to figure out (or at least successfully implement) the solution.

The Talent Question (also known as "The elephant in the room")

The subject of natural talent can be controversial, and can lead to very heated discussions. The funny thing about natural talent in chess is that my observation is that people tend to think that natural talent is necessary to reach whatever their level is, or perhaps one level above or below their level (depending on their rating, and how big of an ego they have). For example, many Grandmasters will insist that any motivated person of reasonable intelligence can reach at least 2400 USCF, if not International Master (2400 FIDE, which is typically equivalent to at least 2500 USCF). I can't prove it, but I seriously doubt that this is true. 

Statistically, it seems implausible that any person who works hard enough can attain a level of success that is only attained by far less than 1% of all people in that field. As a society we should strive to create equal opportunities for as many people as possible, but we should not be deluded to believe that equal outcomes are possible for everyone (unless the most talented are artificially held back, while the least talented are artificially boosted). 

Based on my chess journey, and my observations of many players of various strengths over the years (including students who I trained and whose development I witnessed firsthand), I think that a reasonably intelligent person who does not have any special chess talent can reach 1800 USCF without having to devote so much time to chess that one's life is not balanced. Beyond 1800, I think that you need some combination of natural chess talent and hard work over an extended period of time. I suppose that it is theoretically possible that a very hard working person with no special chess talent could become a Master, but I don't think that I have ever met such a person. The Masters who I have met seem to me to have more innate chess talent than most non-Masters; it is possible that what I am observing in Masters is not innate talent but rather skills developed through hard work, but my experiences as a teacher influenced my thinking on this topic: I showed the same tactics to many different students over the years, and I found that some students could discern the answer before I had even set up all of the pieces (they could tell that the remaining pieces were not integral to the solution) while other students could not solve the same tactics even after receiving guidance and hints. Obviously, higher rated players can solve tactics more easily than lower rated players, but what I noticed by tracking the progress of many different players over the years was that the players who ultimately attained the highest ratings (at least three of the players who I coached eventually became Masters) consistently solved tactics more quickly than other students. 

Put more concisely, you can tell early on which students are going to be really strong--or, at least, which students have a chance to become really strong if they keep playing chess.

When Dr. Wright first met me, I was not a strong player, but after observing me for a short time he predicted that I would reach at least Expert level and possibly become a Master. Dr. Wright explained to my Mom and me that he made that prediction based on my natural inclination to coordinate my pieces in attack and how quickly I learned and retained new information. My point is not to brag--it is obvious that there are many players who have much more natural chess talent than I do--but to point out that chess talent can be recognized quickly, based on how a player processes the game. Many beginners keep moving their Queen around until they lose their Queen, but for some reason it seemed natural to me to try to get all of my pieces out. It took practice to learn how to develop my pieces without losing material, but I grasped the basic concept intuitively. Players who have more talent than I have are able to grasp more sophisticated concepts in a similarly intuitive fashion, even though they need practice to refine those concepts. 

I have spent enough time watching Grandmasters analyze to conclude that they think about the game in a fundamentally different way than most chess players. I don't think that this is just a matter of being highly trained; they are "seeing" the game differently. The analogy I often make is that most Grandmasters reached the Expert and Master levels when they were little kids; to them, playing Expert or Master level chess is as simple as the basic reading and math concepts that most of us learned when we were eight or nine years old. For most people, playing Expert or Master level chess is hard to do, but for that select group of people who become Grandmasters it is, quite literally, child's play. 

It may not be politically correct to speak about talent, but talent differences exist whether or not they are spoken about--and it is important for a student (and a coach) to understand what goals are reasonable. That being said, I never discouraged one of my students (or anyone else) from setting ambitious goals; if a student told me, "I want to be a Master," my consistent response was, "The first step to attaining that goal is reaching the next 100 point rating level. In addition to focusing on that short term goal, if you have an ambitious long term goal then you must develop the study habits and playing habits of players who reached that level. There is a difference between playing chess for fun, playing chess to reach 1800, playing chess to reach 2000, and playing chess to reach 2200, and your study habits and playing habits must align with your goal."

After reaching Expert in my early 20s and later attaining a rating just 10 points short of Master, I think that setting a goal of becoming a Master is reasonable for me. For other players, 1800 or 2400 may be reasonable goals. Each chess player has his or her own journey, and it is more productive to focus on your journey as opposed to comparing it to the journey of someone else whose talent, work ethic, and life experiences may be much different.

The Journey Continues

I entered 2023 with a 2012 rating.

On Saturday January 7, the Dayton Chess Club held its first rated tournament since COVID-19, and I scored 2-0 to win the top rated quad and gain eight rating points (I won my third game by forfeit because my opponent did not show up). 

On Sunday January 8, I scored 2.5/4 in the East Market Swiss, finishing out of the money and losing six rating points. My only loss happened in round two when I blundered against a much lower rated player, permitting him to play a winning Exchange sacrifice that I could have prevented had I correctly assessed the danger.

The first game after a loss--particularly a loss against a lower rated player--can be difficult psychologically. I know players who withdraw from a tournament rather than dealing with that psychological challenge. I rarely withdraw from a tournament, and I don't recall ever withdrawing after just one loss.

I finished the East Market Swiss with two very interesting games.

In round three, I blundered a piece for two pawns against Joshua Keegan (1821), but I fought back during my opponent's time pressure and managed to reach a position where I had King, Bishop, and Knight versus King. This was my 3337th regular or dual rated game, and this was just my second opportunity to execute this checkmate. The first time happened 18 years ago, and in that game I was in time pressure; I forced my opponent's King to one of the "right" corners (i.e., a corner the same color as the squares controlled by the Bishop), but then I stalemated him when I had mate in four! This time, I avenged that failure by checkmating my opponent--but not without some drama. My opponent stopped keeping score, as he only had two seconds left (plus the five second time delay), but he attempted to make a mark on his scoresheet for each move played after the last pawn was captured. When he thought that 50 moves had been played, he stopped the clock and summoned the tournament director, Lou Friscoe. By rule a player cannot make a 50 move draw claim without having a complete scoresheet including all of the game's moves. The TD made the correct ruling, and I asked, per USCF rules, to have two minutes added to my time because my opponent's incorrect claim stopped play. I could have also added two minutes earlier in the game when my opponent made an illegal move, but I deferred because neither of us knew how to reset his clock; this time, I substituted my clock for my opponent's clock, and after adding two minutes I had 8:28 left while my opponent still had two seconds (because he kept making his moves in five seconds or less). I spent about three minutes before making my next move. By that point I had trapped my opponent's King in one of the "right" corners, so I made sure that I neither stalemated him nor let him out of the corner. My opponent was understandably not pleased after I delivered checkmate, but a few minutes after the game ended he approached me and we had a brief, amicable conversation about the game.

Soon, round four began, and I faced Tom Britt (2200) in what turned out to be another very interesting game. I have known Britt for more than 30 years, and during that time he has not only taught me a lot but we have also contested some exciting games. This one was no exception. I sacrificed a Pawn as Black in an Old Indian Defense, but soon not only regained my Pawn but ended up a Pawn to the good. Britt skillfully steered the game to a drawish Rook and Pawn ending where my extra Pawn was not enough to win, and thus we split the point.

With a 2014 rating after that tournament, I need to gain 186 points to reach my goal. The first step, as noted above, is to reach the next 100 point level; after surpassing 2100, I can then focus on reaching 2200.

I don't have definite plans regarding how often I will write about my journey to the National Master title. If I do poorly in my next event, perhaps I will not write any more articles about this topic (just kidding--I think). My two goals for this chess journey journal are (1) focus my thoughts about chess development in a way that will help me attain my goal, and (2) provide some insights about chess that will hopefully be interesting and useful to other chess players.