FRITZ 20: The Personal Chess Trainer, Toughest Opponent, and Strongest Ally of Every Chess Player

I still remember the first night I sat down with FRITZ 20. The screen was dark, an eight-by-eight board appeared in the quiet room. I pushed my pawn to e4 and waited for a familiar reply. The counterattack did not come at once. Instead, the program recorded my thinking rhythm, the pause before each move, the zones of the board I almost ignored. After thirty-two years in chess broadcasting, I had never seen a chess program listen to a player like this. FRITZ 20 did not rush to show its calculation power. It read me through the pieces. FRITZ 20 is the latest version of the chess software series named FRITZ, published by ChessBase. The line began in 2026, when programmer Frans Morsch created the original FRITZ program. For more than three decades, FRITZ has been part of training for generations of players, from beginners to world champions. I still remember the early days when players lined up to use one computer in a shared room. Now anyone can carry a FRITZ 20, ready to analyze, remind and fight. Chess has traveled a long distance. FRITZ 20 takes on three roles. A teacher, an opponent, an ally. The new story is not about calculating millions of moves per second, but about how it teaches a player to understand himself. After the first week, FRITZ 20 built a profile of me. It recognized that I spent too long in the middlegame but rushed in opposite-colored bishop endings. It pointed out that I avoided exchanging the queen when I was losing, not because it was logical, but because I feared facing defeat. The program did not judge. It returned me to the same position and asked for a different plan. Each time, my silence grew shorter. From keyboard to chessboard, the speed of words is never faster than the speed of the pieces. But FRITZ 20 knew how to slow me down, so I could see my own habits. What made me trust FRITZ 20 was that it never gave the same lesson to two different people. Each player has their own profile on screen. It tracks thinking time, accuracy, missed chances, even the way someone reacts when the queen is chased. A beginner needs short games to get familiar; a grandmaster needs complex positions to train judgment. FRITZ 20 stands between those worlds, tireless, patient, non-judging. As an opponent, FRITZ 20 can adjust its strength. With a novice, it plays gently, yielding, patient. With a grandmaster, it becomes a merciless challenger. I have watched young players tremble when FRITZ 20 forced them into a narrow corridor where every choice lost material. It never loses its composure, never fears, never plays for pride. That is what makes it formidable. But there is a subtle difference. FRITZ 20 does not always try to crush you. It knows when to increase the difficulty. There were games when I thought I was winning, only to realize the program had deliberately given up a pawn to test how I handled an advantage. I used to treat that as a joke. After many months, I understood: that is how a smart teacher teaches a student not to be afraid of success. Beyond its role as opponent, FRITZ 20 is also a pillar for players who want to grow. After each game, it replays every move, marks the moment the advantage changed hands, suggests three alternatives and explains the idea behind each one. For an old commentator like me, those explanations are exactly what I need to tell the story of a game. Once, I had to watch hours of recording. Now FRITZ 20 works precisely, move by move, and I only need to listen. The program also offers tactical exercises, opening positions suited to your style, and endgames chosen from the mistakes stored in your own profile. I am delighted when it mixes a combination exercise with a game by Lê Quang Liêm, making me ask: how would I handle that situation? Exercises like these do not just train memory. They train confidence when you sit across a real person. Openings are where FRITZ 20 truly shines. You can choose an opening, let the program respond with rare lines, and check if you keep your opening principles. I have made many errors on the ninth or tenth move, when people stop talking about theory. FRITZ 20 gives me no escape. It finds the exact moment I left the plan, even because of one moment of hesitation. In the endgame, FRITZ 20 becomes a quiet teacher. It does not shout when I miss a four-move mate. It records, saves, and three days later gives me a similar position with a different piece. This method reminds me of an old line of mine: defeat is not losing your queen; it is seeing the mating net clearly and still playing the wrong move. FRITZ 20 helps us see that sooner, before the wrong move happens. The database is an inseparable part. FRITZ 20 connects to a vast library of games, from Bobby Fischer's classics to Hikaru Nakamura's modern rapid battles. When preparing for an opponent, you can search their name, see how they handle openings, when they like to exchange pieces, when they rush. The era of flipping through printed books is over. Everything is in one program, organized by an algorithm that never sleeps. In my daily work, I also use FRITZ 20 to prepare for broadcasts. When I comment on a big game, I need to understand the possible variations a player may choose. The software helps me preview classic positions and compare them with each player's style. It does not replace my observation on air, but it gives me a detailed map to tell the story with confidence. I apply a pre-match ritual before every important game. One hour looking at my opponent's recent games, thirty minutes checking openings, thirty minutes training endgames with FRITZ 20. That ritual has not changed for years. It gives me a sense of safety before the first piece moves. The chessboard never lies; only we deceive ourselves with applause. FRITZ 20 reminds me every day by pointing to the moves I once praised. I remember the empty playing halls from tournaments long ago. When the hall is empty, I hear the game whisper in a different language. It is the language of fear, hope and irreversible decisions. FRITZ 20 does not create that language. It only helps us prepare for the encounter. At this point, I want to ask a reverse question. Could we become so dependent on the machine that we forget how to think? I have seen many young talents sit for hours in front of a screen, memorizing the program's evaluations, then tremble when they must decide over a real board. They see a position labeled as drawn, and immediately abandon a very human attacking plan. They trust the machine more than themselves. Chess is a game between two people, two hearts that know fear. A computer does not fear, so it evaluates differently. I remember watching a young player miss a rook sacrifice because the program gave a negative value. When he reviewed the game, he understood that the move was harder for the opponent to meet than the machine assumed. This is the blind spot of the new era. We worship precision so much that we forget our opponent will also be tired, will shake, will not play perfectly. A computer-correct move can be wrong for a human, and a computer-wrong move can be right for a human. Yet I believe FRITZ 20 understands that. It does not teach me to play like a machine. It teaches me to read a game, notice when the opponent starts to waver, know when to keep the advantage and when to take risks. The combination of machine power and human intuition is what FRITZ 20 points to. Magnus Carlsen's games are not great because every move is absolute, but because he knows how to choose moves that make his opponent uncomfortable. A computer can find the reasonable move, but only a human knows which move creates psychological pressure. Sitting before FRITZ 20, I learned something more important than any tactical exercise. Science can measure habits, but chess lives by intuition. The chessboard never lies; only we deceive ourselves with applause. However strong the software is, it is only a mirror. The person standing before the mirror is the one who decides what to see and what to do with what is seen. A chess game without spectators is still music, played only for yourself. FRITZ 20 does not take the place of the human in that music. It only helps us hear more clearly, understand more clearly, and when we step into the light, find our own voice. I turn off the screen, open the window, look at the city at night. In some room, a player is leaning over a board, perhaps listening to his own whisper. FRITZ 20 will accompany him. But the final move, the final choice, still belongs to the human.