ChessBase Magazine #225: Bent Larsen on the cover, Prague 2026 inside

On a Friday evening, I downloaded ChessBase Magazine issue 225, scrolled through the table of contents, and stopped at the line printed on the cover: learn strategy from Bent Larsen. For someone who works as a commentator, a name on a cover is a promise. Bent Larsen, the Danish grandmaster who died in 2026 and one of the most creative attackers of the twentieth century, is a name strong enough to make anyone who has ever held a chess piece pause for a few seconds. But when I read through the full list of contents, I found no game by Larsen. Not a single article, not a single theme bearing his name. I sat still for a while, in exactly the kind of silence I keep before every game that needs to be read carefully.

ChessBase Magazine is not a news outlet in the ordinary sense. It is the periodical of ChessBase, the world's largest publisher of chess database software, launched in the early 1990s and now at issue 225. Each issue is a training package: annotated games, opening videos, tactical exercises, endgame technique, and a curated set of short games. The main material for issue 225 comes from the Chess Festival Prague 2026, a closed round-robin that gathers a strong field.

The Prague Chess Festival is a traditional event on the Central European chess calendar, usually running several sections in parallel: a Masters section for top players, a Challengers section, and open sections. It does not sit on the World Championship qualification path, unlike the World Cup, the Grand Swiss or the Grand Chess Tour. Its value to the championship cycle is therefore close to zero, but its editorial value is very high: a closed round-robin packed with stars is ideal content material. The four players featured in the annotation section of issue 225 almost certainly come from the Masters section.

Those four names form a deliberately chosen picture. Anish Giri is a Dutch player in the world elite who has spent years near the top of the rating list. David Navara is the Czech number one and a familiar face in Central European chess. Aravindh Chithambaram represents the rising Indian wave. Ediz Gurel is a young Turkish talent. Together they combine current elite, national pride, an emerging wave and future promise. As marketing, it is a perfect generational spread.

The opening video section carries three names: Jan Werle, Daniel King and Robert Ris. For anyone who follows the chess training market, these are genuinely reputable authors. King has been tied for years to the famous Power Play video series. Werle and Ris are opening and endgame specialists known to serious students of the game. Their presence is a soft signal of production quality. But a clear distinction is needed: the reputation of the teacher is one thing, and the specific quality of this particular product is another. No specific opening variation is named, no system is disclosed, so any judgment about technical depth must be set aside for now.

In addition, issue 225 contains ten opening articles and 27 miniatures. This is where I want to pause the longest.

A short game and a game meant for learning strategy are two entirely different categories. A miniature is a game that ends quickly, usually within thirty moves, selected for its entertainment value or its value as a tactical exercise. It is attractive, easy to read, suited to players who want to sharpen their calculation. But strategic analysis is something else: it is the work of dissecting long-term decisions, of good structural concessions, of moves that look harmless but plant seeds twenty moves ahead. Bundling 27 miniatures under a headline that promises to teach strategy creates a category tension.

Based on my experience following games, I often rewatch them muted, paying attention only to the geometry of the board. That habit taught me that the value of a training product does not lie in the amount of content, but in whether that content forces the reader to think again. A good opening article is one that makes you reconsider a move you once took for granted. A good miniature is one that makes you jump out of your chair. Those two things serve different purposes, and mixing them under one shared headline is a very familiar habit of the publishing industry.

There is a notable mechanism behind products like this: the player-as-brand model. Giri, Navara, Werle, King and Ris are not only strong chess players. They are personal brands, names that sell content. The same mechanism is at work in the economy of streaming players: stars monetise their expertise across multiple media. The publisher does not pay these people to play; it pays them to teach. And the buyer pays for access to that expertise.

Within that structure, two kinds of content with very different lifespans must be separated. The portion tied to Prague 2026 is seasonal: once the next major event takes place, its news value fades quickly. The opening and endgame portion is evergreen: ideas about good structure and endgame technique do not age with the season. For a buyer, this is an important calculation. Whoever buys for Prague 2026 will see the value decay. Whoever buys for the openings and endgames will find far more durable value.

A notable operational point is how ChessBase distributes the product. The buyer receives a PDF booklet, a download key, and access through the ChessBase Book app on iPad, tablet and Mac. This is the familiar multi-platform model of the digital content industry: print, digital and app versions travel together. A download key means access is gated and hard to resell. A dedicated app means the publication is integrated into the publisher's own software ecosystem. That is a retention strategy, not an open platform.

Tactics never lie; only the reader misreads them. The problem with issue 225 is not the quality of the content inside, but the gap between the headline and the content actually listed. The name Bent Larsen on the cover appeals to the classics-loving readership, the people who want to learn from the old masters. But such a promise only holds if the material inside genuinely concerns Larsen. When it does not, the headline becomes an advertising hook, and the buyer has every right to feel over-promised.

One thing must be said plainly about the source: every statement praising this product comes from the publisher itself. The phrase "first-class training material" is self-assessment, not the result of independent verification. In an ecosystem where media outlets and publishers sometimes share the same roof, the risk of inflated evaluation is real. A prudent reader should separate the factual part — author names, amount of content, distribution format — from the promise.

I am not writing these lines to belittle a publication with decades of history. ChessBase Magazine has lasted 225 issues, and that endurance itself is the real force retaining readers, independent of any single issue's headline. But in an increasingly crowded training-content market — with online courses, free video channels and open databases — the difference a paid publication offers must lie in curation, brand reputation and packaging format, not in exclusive knowledge. Most chess knowledge already sits within free reach of anyone willing to spend the time.

There is one thing I always remind myself before judging any product: read what they list, not just what they print on the cover. The contents list is the most honest statement a publisher makes. It shows where they genuinely invest, and what they believe their readers need. Ten opening articles and 27 miniatures tell me this issue targets club players who want to improve their practical play, not readers seeking a historical feature on Larsen.

They say girls know nothing about tactics. So I write for them to read. And when I write for people who have been looked down on, I have a duty to show them where to look. With issue 225, the place to look is not the name on the cover. The place to look is the author list, the structure of the content, and the way the product is packaged and distributed. Those are the traces that reveal who a product is really meant for.

Sometimes, to understand a game, you must stand in silence longer than others can bear. I stood still long enough in front of this contents page to realise that the value of a training publication is not measured by a flashy headline, but by whether, after closing the book, the reader sees the board differently. That answer is not on the cover. It lies in the first game you analyse yourself once you have finished reading.