Finding Your Way Back

I write this blog entry after a very long hiatus from the Go world and my Go related personal projects. I've been away for quite some time and am in the process of getting back into playing Go, improving myself in the game, and reconnecting with the Go community at large. First, I wanted to share a little story, something I've never shared with others.

About 10 years ago I published the first book of the "So You Want to Play Go?" series. Believe it or not I wrote it in about 4-5 days. I worked feverishly with little sleep, taking only naps. I had to figure out how to do diagrams, outline my lessons, scour professional games and my own notes for examples, and write everything down. All of that effort didn't matter to me because I was hell bent on getting the project done.

Go Congress was some of the happiest times

I wrote the first book because I loved the game. Go has always been a positive force in my life. It gave me self esteem, gave me a challenge, and provided me friends and a built in community. I had a hard time learning the game. I studied Japanese, Chinese and Korean in university. This helped a ton in reading books and reading websites in those languages to help me learn the game. I wanted an English speaking person to be able to pick up a book and learn the game in a comfortable manner. I felt this would go a long way in increasing the number of people who could play Go.

Go was an easy way to make friends in any country

What I've never revealed to anyone is how nervous I was when I first published the book. I'm not a professional Go player. I was barely a dan level player when I wrote it. I didn't have any formal training in teaching Go. I mostly taught new people at the local Go club and my friends online. What right did I have to write a book? I was besieged with negative thoughts even though my friends at Go club were congratulating me. 

The Go Dojang in Migeum, S. Korea

This feeling never really left me. Even though I wrote all 4 books in the series, the one that I felt the most nervous writing was the last book. How could someone who was 3-4 dan write a dan level book? I had studied in Korea at a professional dojang, but my rank had probably reached its zenith despite the amount of studying I was doing. 

Playing Go in Singapore

Then I opened Sunday Go Lessons. It was my dream to have an online Go school. Some place where newcomers to Go could get an emporium of information on how to get better. I wrote the site myself and it took a week to finish. As usual, when I get really into something I enter into "The Zone" and work feverishly on it with little to no sleep until it is done. 

Still, in the back of my mind I was an imposter. I'm not a professional and I was never an insei. I still make mistakes with life and death problems and I don't know every joseki by heart. I just didn't see people lining up to have me teach them Go. I put my doubts aside and opened, but my doubts kept gnawing at me.

A professional tournament in South Korea! So much fun!

In many ways when we sit at the Go board we fight ourselves. We know that we're going to be in for a long game. We're going to have to think hard on all of our moves, and invest ourselves in the outcome of the game. Go is deep to where it feels like a waste to just play it superficially. We don't want to experience losing but we know that it's possible. We can make a mistake, lose our stones, misread a position, all manner of mistakes that happen. 

Shandong Province Regional Tournament

I've been on hiatus from Go because I feel like a lot of the passion I used to feel is not there anymore. But I didn't like how that felt. With Go I made instant friends with people from all over the world. I had a game that satisfied my intellectual curiosity and need for complex problem solving, as well as for the thrill of improving. I don't want to ever lose the passion I felt when I stayed up for nearly 4 days straight writing the first book of "So You Want to Play Go." I'm older and my priorities in life have changed, but in a way, I want Go to help me capture this one aspect of myself and maintain it. I am revamping the Sunday Go Lessons website, adding more videos and problems, and some other functionality I think might be good. I'm going to think of new books to write or ways to promote the game. I want to practice new joseki and keep up with new changes in the game like I used to. I may not be able to do it as much as when I was in my early 20s, but I want to take the time to make sure I do these things so I don't lose the spark.

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Punching a Brick Wall

Playing Alpha Go is like punching a brick wall.  I know that many people watching perhaps do not play Go and are having a hard time appreciating what's going on, but my feeling watching Alpha Go play over the past 3 matches is that it is just like punching a brick wall.  It has no feelings.  In Go, you can use your emotions to guide you on how to play.  Most Go players will tell you it's intuition, or a feeling that draws you to certain parts of the board.  Emotions have a huge effect on the game.  Some moves look dangerous, where your stones will be easily captured and you would automatically lose. You can intimidate your opponent, and if you don't maintain mental concentration, you could slip easily and miss an easy move.

Alpha Go doesn't feel.  Playing Alpha Go is like punching a brick wall.

The commentators sometimes would say "Alpha Go doesn't seemed bothered here," for example, and I thought to myself "It isn't possible for it to be bothered."  It already knows which parts of the board are important, and can select sequences with extreme precision.  Lee Sedol had such a difficult time in the opening.  It's like watching Michael Jordan unable to get the ball in the hoop no matter how much he sweats, or Mike Tyson punching his opponent but getting no reaction.

The beginning of the game was astounding.  Lee Sedol started off on his back foot.  Alpha Go's groups were always stronger.  Even when it looked like the two were struggling, Alpha Go was always relatively stronger.  You can think of White's group at A like a team.  All those stones live and die together.  So does Black B.  Neither Black nor White can say their group is 100% safe, but White's group is somehow safer.  An attack never materializes against him the whole game!

Punching a brick wall.

Then, the game starts to get super exciting.  A lot of times in Go, you're fighting with your opponent. It's like boxing.  Both players are throwing jabs and uppercuts, and both men are trying to go for the knockout blow.  There is bobbing and weaving, but when the opportunity presents itself, Evander Holyfield just lays his opponent on the floor with his jab.  Not Alpha Go.

 
White A is like giving your opponent a pat on the head and telling him to not forget his lunch as he's getting on the school bus, then going to work at a high powered Wall Street firm.  White A could have been a number of moves that could have aimed to attack Black at the top, White could have tried to land that knock out blow, but instead, White's aim was the very large, very valuable box of territory on the other side of the board.  This shows the computer has no greed, and confirms one of the timeless lessons of the game of Go, that greed will eventually destroy you, and that patience and global thinking are rewarded.

Punching a brick wall.

I'm glad I'm alive to witness this history. A computer program has defeated one of the greatest grand masters of Go.  Plus, it might mean that Google could develop a commercial program that people could play.  I'd love to use a Go program to help me improve my game.  Even though I'm no where even close to Lee Sedol, it would be so invaluable.  Congrats to the Google team!

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