Erigaisi's Fifth Move: When the Italian Board Awakens After Three Decades of Slumber

Nha Trang at night, November. The sea is still loud outside, but in my study there is only the sound of chess pieces tapping on the wooden board and the ceiling fan creaking like an old clock. I reopen the game Erigaisi played against Laohawirapap in the Game of the Week #740 column. The board lights up on the screen, and on the fifth move, White plays 5.e5!. I stop. A pawn push to e5 is not a strange thing in the chess world, but the way it appears here, after the sequence 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4 Nf6 4.d4 exd4, reminds me of an old story of my own. Every stadium I walk through has a secret door, and the entrance is always a person. The secret door of this game lies on the fifth move. It looks so simple that one might scroll past it, but that very simplicity is where the danger lies. I sit there for a long time, coffee cooling in the cup, and I ask myself why an idea so classical can make me feel as if I am standing before a door I have walked past for three decades without ever opening.

I began my career at the chessboard. In 2026, I commentated on chess for VTC, and for thirty-two years after that, I was present at almost every classic final of the Davis and Hendley era. But I am also a documentary storyteller. I spent three months listening to a man tell the story of his 400m race in 2026. In the age of 30-second videos, I still believe memory deserves to be heard in full, whether it is the memory of a track athlete or the memory of a chess move. The Erigaisi–Laohawirapap game is not a major event. It is a lesson. And lessons, in my view, are sometimes more memorable than glorious victories.

People often speak of the Italian Opening as something old, a land that modern engines have mined to exhaustion. But the board is never exhausted. It only waits for someone who knows how to listen. A record is never old, it only waits for someone who knows how to listen. And in this case, the one listening is me, sitting before the screen near midnight, with a cooling cup of coffee, watching Erigaisi push the pawn to e5.

The context I want to build here is not the context of a specific tournament. It is the context of a variation. The Italian Opening begins with 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4. It is one of the oldest openings in modern chess, played by the Italians since the sixteenth century, and for centuries it was the foundation of romantic attacking play. By the twentieth century, when strategic schools and analytical engines rose to dominance, Italy was pushed into the dark corner of theory. People played the Spanish, people played the Sicilian Defence, people played the French Defence. The Italian Opening remained only as a beautiful memory, a spiritual dish for the nostalgic.

But since the early 2020s, there has been an underground wave. Young players at the highest level began returning to openings that seemed to have died. They did not return out of nostalgia. They returned in search of gaps. When every main opening has been analysed to the end by engines, when every fifteenth move of the Sicilian Najdorf has been memorised like a formula, the place to win lies in lands few have trodden.

The Modern variation of the Italian Opening is one of those lands. It begins with 4.d4 exd4, then 5.e5!. White pushes the pawn to e5, attacks the knight on f6, and at the same time creates a floating centre. Black is placed in a difficult choice situation from the fifth move. Notably, this position can be reached through several different paths. If you start with 3.d4 exd4 4.Bc4, that is the Scotch Gambit. But after Black replies, you will realise you are in exactly the position of the Modern Italian. This is one of the most beautiful things about chess: many roads lead to the same room. And when you know that room, you can enter from any door.

I remember once talking to an old coach in Hanoi. He told me that an opening is not a list of moves. It is a set of ideas. And when you understand the idea, you can play it from any direction. That sentence has haunted me until now, as I write about a variation that many young people in Vietnam have never heard of but which is being used by one of the strongest players in the world.

Erigaisi needs no introduction. At a very young age, he is already one of India's top players, a country producing chess talents at breakneck speed. Laohawirapap is a player from Thailand, a chess nation growing strongly in Southeast Asia. Their encounter, seen from a geographical angle, is an Asian encounter. But seen from a technical angle, it is a lesson in how a classical idea can be reborn.

I want to begin the analysis from the fifth move, because that is where the story truly begins. Before that, everything is familiar. After 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4 Nf6 4.d4 exd4, Black has taken the pawn on d4 and White has a hanging pawn. White can play 5.O-O, transposing into an ordinary game, or 5.Nxd4, transposing into the Scotch Gambit with familiar paths. But White chooses 5.e5!. This is the move that shapes the entire game.

What happens after 5.e5!? The knight on f6 is attacked. It must move. But when it moves, it will leave gaps. And White will exploit those gaps. White does not try to win back the pawn on d4 immediately. White accepts losing a pawn for time and space. It is a classical trade-off in romantic chess, but executed with the precision of modern chess.

The move 5.e5! pushes the f6-knight into an awkward situation. If it goes to d5, it blocks its own d-pawn and creates a passive structure. If it goes to g4, it will be attacked by moves such as h3 or Bxf7+. If it goes to e4, it occupies the centre but may be pushed away by Bd3 or Qe2. Each choice has its price.

This is the key point I want to emphasise: White does not need to win immediately. White only needs to create a position in which every choice by Black leads to a different kind of discomfort. That is the essence of a good opening. It does not give you a victory, it gives you a series of problems your opponent must solve.

In this game, Black chose one of the most popular moves. I will not reveal right away which one, because I want to go through each possibility. The best way to understand an opening is to understand all its branches, not just the branch played in a specific game.

The first branch is 5...d5. Black counterattacks in the centre. This is the most natural reaction of a player trained in the classical school. When attacked on the wing, counterattack in the centre. But here, 5...d5 has a problem. After 6.Bb5, the knight on f6 is pinned, and White threatens to regain the pawn on d4 with a better position. If Black plays 6...Ne4, White can play 7.Nxd4, and now the knight on e4 becomes a target. Black must be very careful not to fall into a position where every piece hangs loose.

I have spent many nights analysing this branch. It is like entering a room with many doors. Each door leads to another corridor, and each corridor has smaller doors. The interesting thing is that at the end of each corridor, White usually has a slight advantage. Not a decisive advantage, but an advantage sufficient to play. And in chess, an advantage sufficient to play matters more than an advantage on paper.

The difference between a good opening and a great opening lies not in the engine's evaluation, but in the degree of discomfort it causes the opponent in practice. An opening can be evaluated as balanced by the engine, but if it makes the opponent think for forty minutes and burn time, it has already won a part.

The second branch is 5...Ng4. This is the branch I love most, because it is the most challenging. Black attacks the e5-pawn, forcing White to decide. If White plays h3, the knight must move again. If White plays Bxf7+, the game becomes extremely complex. And if White plays O-O, Black can play Nxe5 and equalise. But here there is a subtle trap. After 6.h3, if Black plays 6...Nh6, White can play 7.Bg5, pinning the queen or creating tactical threats. And if Black plays 6...Nxe5, White plays 7.Nxe5, and now the knight on g4 hangs.

I have a strange habit when analysing chess: I always imagine myself sitting in the spectator seats, looking at the board from a distant angle. From there, I do not see moves, I see relationships. The knight on g4 attacks the e5-pawn. The e5-pawn defends the knight on f3? No, the knight on f3 defends the e5-pawn. There is a mutual dependence among the pieces, and when one moves, the whole system shakes.

That is why I believe chess is a sport of relationships, not of individual pieces. When you look at a game, you are looking at a network. And a good opening is one that creates a network in which every knot benefits you.

5...Ng4 is a move that creates a complex knot. It challenges White, but at the same time it creates a weakness on g4. White can exploit that weakness by playing h3, then Bg5 or Qd3. I have seen many games in which Black plays 5...Ng4 and is then swept into an attack he cannot control.

The third branch is 5...Ne4. Black puts the knight in the centre. This is a bold but risky move. The knight on e4 is strong, but it is also very attackable. White can play Bd3, forcing the knight to move, or play Qe2, pinning it. Afterwards, White can play Nxd4 and has a comfortable position.

Interestingly, 5...Ne4 is often played by players who want to avoid theory. They do not want to enter main lines that have been analysed thoroughly. They want a chaotic game in which practical skill matters more than memory. And in such games, the better player usually wins, but not always.

I remember a game at the national championship in 2026, when I was still a commentator. A young player played a similar variation and beat a veteran grandmaster. After the game, I asked him whether he knew what he was doing. He replied: 'No, but I knew he did not know.' That is the essence of openings few people play. They are not stronger objectively, but they are stronger psychologically.

An opening does not need to be theoretically better. It only needs to be practically better. And practice is measured by the clock, by the opponent's confidence, and by how many times they must leave their comfort zone.

Now I want to return to the legacy of this variation. Evgeny Sveshnikov is one of the Russian grandmasters who used it frequently. Sveshnikov is famous for the Sicilian Defence bearing his name, but he is also a man with a very distinctive opening taste. He likes positions with asymmetrical structures, where the two sides play entirely different plans. He does not like balanced, symmetrical positions where everything is clear.

Sveshnikov played this variation for decades, and according to the article I am analysing, it brought him very good results. But I must be careful here. 'Very good results' is a claim without data. I do not know how many games Sveshnikov won, drew, and lost with this variation. I do not know whom he played it against, at what point, and with what time control.

This is one of the biggest problems of modern chess. We have too much data, yet we readily accept claims without data when they come from reputable people. Sveshnikov is a brilliant grandmaster. But his reputation is not evidence for a specific conclusion about a specific variation.

I say this not to diminish Sveshnikov. I say this to emphasise that the reader must verify. That is why I advise anyone who wants to play this variation to check it themselves with an analytical engine and a current database. There is no other way.

In chess, reputation is not evidence. Evidence is evidence. And the only reliable evidence is moves verified by multiple independent sources.

Now let us talk about Erigaisi. I have no data about this game in hand. I do not know the result, I do not know the time control, and I do not know how the engine evaluates the moves. But I know one thing: a player at Erigaisi's level does not play a variation unless he believes in it. He has prepared it with his team. He has analysed it with an engine. He has found a path he believes can bring an advantage.

That does not mean this variation is stronger than the Sicilian Najdorf. It means this variation suits Erigaisi better, in a specific context, against a specific opponent. And that is how elite chess operates. It does not operate by absolute truths. It operates by specific choices.

I have watched many games by Erigaisi. He has a very personal style. He likes to attack, but not recklessly. He likes complex positions, but not pointlessly complex ones. He has a very deep calculating ability, but he also has an intuition for positions where understanding matters more than calculation. And this variation, to me, is a variation of understanding.

What I want to say is: 5.e5! is not a move you can play without understanding. It demands that you understand pawn structures, weak squares, and middlegame plans. If you merely memorise the moves, you will be punished. And that is why I want to spend the rest of this article talking about the traps.

One of the most common traps in this variation is the trap involving the d4-pawn. White lost this pawn on the fourth move, and Black will try to keep it. But if Black focuses too much on keeping the pawn, Black will be attacked elsewhere. White can play Nxd4 at an appropriate moment, and then the pawn no longer matters. What matters is the position.

I remember a saying by an old coach: 'Never love a pawn. It will betray you.' In this variation, that saying is especially true. Both sides must be ready to sacrifice material for positional advantage. That is the essence of romantic chess, but executed with the precision of modern chess.

Another trap involves the knight on c6. In many lines of this variation, this knight becomes a target. White can play Bb5 or d5 to attack it. Black must decide whether to keep it on c6 or move it to a safer square. If Black keeps it on c6 too long, White can create a tactical threat. If Black moves it, White can seize the centre.

This is one of the things I love about chess: every decision has a price. There is no perfect move. There are only moves less bad than others. And in a variation as complex as this, finding the least bad move is a skill that requires years of practice.

Chess is not a game of correct moves. It is a game of less wrong moves. And in a variation full of traps, the winner is usually the one who makes fewer mistakes, not the one who finds more correct moves.

Now I want to talk about the aspect I call the 'counterintuitive angle'. The original article I am analysing says this variation is 'perfect for club players' and 'relatively easy to learn'. I am not sure that is true.

It is true that this variation has a clear logic. White pushes the pawn to e5, attacks the knight, and gains space. That is an idea anyone can understand. But 'easy to learn' does not mean 'easy to play'. There is a very large difference between understanding an idea and executing it accurately in a real game.

The problem is that this variation has many branches. I have mentioned three main branches for Black: 5...d5, 5...Ng4, and 5...Ne4. But each branch has many sub-branches. And in each sub-branch, there are moves that, if you do not know them, will punish you immediately.

I once witnessed a club player play this variation and get beaten in twenty-five moves. He understood the idea, but he did not understand the details. He played 5.e5!, but then he did not know what to do when his opponent played 5...Ng4. He played h3, but then he did not know what to do when his opponent played Nxe5. And from there, everything collapsed.

That is why I advise club players to be careful. If you want to play this variation, you must invest time. You must learn all the main branches. You must understand the middlegame plans. You must know the traps and how to avoid them. It is not a one-afternoon job. It is a job of many weeks, even many months.

An opening can be learned in a day, but it is only understood over years. And understanding, not knowledge, is what wins you games.

However, I do not want to end this article with a warning. I want to end it with an invitation. This variation is an opportunity. It is an opportunity to explore a land many have forgotten. It is an opportunity to play chess the way the Italians played in the sixteenth century: with boldness, with creativity, and with the belief that the board is a place to express yourself.

I have spent my whole life telling stories about sport. I have told of track athletes running on red dirt tracks. I have told of Vietnamese fans riding buses across Russia. I have told of record-holders forgotten in empty stadiums. And now I am telling of a move. A fifth move. A move I believe will be spoken of for many years to come.

The stadium is empty, but the applause of 2026 still echoes in every old record. And the Italian board, after three decades of slumber, is waking. It wakes not because of a miracle, but because a new generation of players has found in it something the previous generation missed. Perhaps it is freedom. Perhaps it is surprise. Perhaps it is simply the joy of discovering something new in something very old.

Whatever it is, I want to be there to witness it. I want to sit in the empty seats, watch young players push the pawn to e5, and feel the pulse of an idea being revived. Because that is what sport always does: it makes old things new, and new things eternal.

I do not know whether Erigaisi won or lost that game. I do not know whether this variation will become a trend. I do not know whether club players will adopt it. But I know one thing: I will keep following it. I will keep taking notes. I will keep asking questions. Because that is my job, and that is my joy.

The board never sleeps. It only waits for someone who knows how to wake it.

---

Appendix: Glossary of Professional Terms

The Italian Game is a classical opening beginning 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4.

The Modern variation in this article refers to the line 4.d4 exd4 5.e5!.

The Scotch Gambit is an opening beginning 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.d4, which can transpose into the same position.

Transposition is reaching the same position by a different move order.

A novelty is a new opening move not previously found in databases.

Engine match rate is the percentage of a player's moves matching the engine's top choice.

ACPL is Average Centipawn Loss, a measure of move accuracy.

Preparation is pre-game opening study aimed at a specific opponent.

A second is a player's assistant or coach who helps with preparation.

Classical, Rapid, and Blitz are standard time-control categories.

A tiebreak is extra games used to decide a drawn match.

OTB is over-the-board, i.e. in-person chess.

FIDE is the International Chess Federation.

2700chess is a live-rating tracking site.

TWIC is The Week in Chess, a game database and news resource.

---

Disclaimer: This analysis is based on publicly available information and Stage-1 text-analysis results. It is provided for sports-information reference only and does not constitute betting advice of any kind. Sports outcomes are highly uncertain; please view the analytical conclusions rationally.