Sindarov – Gukesh: When Carlsen Called the Defending Champion 'the Underdog' – A Story of Power Shift on the World Chess Stage

On a late November afternoon in Shanghai, in a small room filled with manuscripts and a cold cup of coffee, I read again Magnus Carlsen's statement about the upcoming world championship match. His words cut like a sharp blade across every hackneyed prediction from the media: Sindarov is seen as the clear favorite, while Gukesh is the one being undervalued. When the world champion calls the defending champion 'the weaker one', it is not a casual remark. It is a declaration about the shift of power in the global chess world. A declaration that raises a question: if Carlsen is right, who will sit on the throne when the chess dust settles? I have stood outside many major matches for three decades. I know that pre-match comments are rarely harmless. They can shape psychology, direct expectations, and even determine who wins and who loses. Carlsen did not speak because he wanted to - he spoke because he understands chess better than anyone alive, and he is using his voice as a chess piece. When I close my eyes, I hear nothing but the sound of pieces tapping on the board - the rhythm of a world championship about to begin, the rhythm of history waiting for someone to write the next chapter. CONTEXT The upcoming World Chess Championship match pits D Gukesh of India, the defending champion, against Javokhir Sindarov of Uzbekistan, the challenger. Both belong to the younger generation, representing two emerging chess powers in Asia - an Asia that is gradually replacing the Eastern European and Russian chess tradition that dominated the sport for a century. Gukesh, 19, became the youngest world champion in history when he defeated Ding Liren at the end of 2026. He enters the match as the defender of the throne, with all the pressure that comes with that title. Before the match, Gukesh has had an unimpressive year: losing important games, dropping Elo, losing form. He is still called 'the youngest world champion', but that title has now become a shadow rather than a motivation. Sindarov, of the same generation and not much younger, has come through the challengers' selection with consistent and impressive form. He was not the most-watched candidate initially - Abdusattorov was the one expected from Uzbekistan. But Sindarov has proven that he deserves to be here, and deserves it far more than what the media once assessed. Magnus Carlsen, who gave up the world title but still holds the all-time highest Elo record, has spoken out with attention-grabbing assessments. In a recent interview, he called Sindarov 'the clear favourite'. At the same time, he described Gukesh - the defending champion - as the one being underrated. Carlsen's reasoning: Sindarov's recent form is more convincing, while Gukesh needs to recover the peak form that helped him become champion. We must remember that Carlsen does not speak randomly. He has spent nearly two decades reading the psychology of his opponents, and he understands that a public assessment can become a weapon. When he calls Sindarov 'the favourite', he is creating pressure on Sindarov and relieving pressure on Gukesh. When he says Gukesh has a higher 'ceiling', he is reminding the whole world that the defending champion has not run out of chances. Everything he says has a purpose, even words that seem casual - this is the lesson I learned from the 2026 World Cup in Russia, when I myself mistakenly called Golovin 'Golovkin' and turned it into a viral story. CORE Digging deeper into Carlsen's assessment, I see four key points that any chess lover needs to understand clearly before the match begins. The first point: Sindarov has higher recent form than Gukesh. Carlsen did not say Sindarov is permanently better - he said Sindarov is currently playing better. That is the difference between form and class. Sindarov has long been regarded as one of the most well-rounded talents of his generation: solid in the opening, sharp in attack, patient in defence, and most importantly - few mistakes. Gukesh, though the champion, has had forgettable losses in the past year. Stability is what Sindarov possesses, and that is an undeniable advantage in a long match. The statistics do not lie: in the past six months, Sindarov has maintained stable form at Superbet, the Global Chess League, and in the qualification rounds, while Gukesh has won little and lost much at tournaments where expectations on him were very high. The second point: Gukesh needs to recover the feeling that helped him beat Ding Liren. Carlsen is very clear here: 'He needs to recover the form that made him champion.' This is a technical assessment, not an emotional one. Carlsen is hinting that Gukesh has lost something - maybe confidence, maybe preparation, maybe the comfortable feeling of sitting in front of the board with the crown in front of him. When you lose the feeling of 'I deserve to sit here', every move becomes heavier. To recover it, Gukesh must win early. And that is exactly why Carlsen emphasises: if Gukesh takes a 2-0 lead, the situation will be completely different. This is not speculation - this is a lesson from Carlsen himself, who has won many world championship matches thanks to early leads. The third point: Early psychological lead will decide the match. This is Carlsen's deepest psychological assessment. Whoever takes the early advantage will force the opponent into a reactive position, and in chess, reactive positions often lead to mistakes. Sindarov, if he wins early, will become more confident. Gukesh, if he loses early, will lose his bearings. That is why Carlsen advises Gukesh to take the early lead from the start - not because Gukesh is weak, but because it is the only way to avoid being caught in the psychological spiral. In chess, losing a game is not losing a point - it is losing a part of the soul. I witnessed this in the Carlsen - Anand 2026 match: Anand lost the first game and the entire match seemed haunted, unable to recover his composure despite his efforts. The fourth point: Gukesh has a higher 'ceiling'. This is the most easily overlooked but most important statement. Carlsen is admitting that Gukesh can reach a higher level than Sindarov, he just has not reached it yet. A ceiling is not something you have - it is something you can reach. And Carlsen is saying Gukesh can reach higher. That is a compliment hidden inside a layer of criticism, and it shows that Carlsen still considers Gukesh a dangerous opponent - not one who has run out of chances. This sentence is also a reminder: if you underestimate Gukesh, you may be punished for it. However, when Carlsen says Sindarov is 'the favourite', he is also placing a ticking bomb under Sindarov's feet. Any chess player called 'the clear favourite' before a world championship match carries an invisible burden: losing is a catastrophe, drawing is a failure, only winning is considered to meet expectations. Sindarov will have to play under that pressure, and Carlsen knows exactly what that pressure is - he lived with it for a decade on the summit. Can Sindarov carry those expectations with enough maturity? Can Gukesh remain cold enough to ignore Carlsen's assessments? These are two questions no one can answer before the first game ends. Looking more broadly, this match is also a clash between two emerging chess schools: India and Uzbekistan. India, with Vidit, Praggnanandhaa, Gukesh, has built a systematic training infrastructure, with hundreds of FIDE-certified coaches and youth tournaments organised year-round from Mumbai to Chennai. Uzbekistan, with Abdusattorov, Sindarov, and a new generation rising from the system of the Kasymov era, is proving that focused investment can also produce equivalent results. These two countries represent two different approaches that reach the same destination: bringing Asian chess to the throne. Meanwhile, Russia - the home of Kasparov, Karpov, Kramnik - is facing declining influence due to international isolation measures. That is why Asian chess has an unprecedented opportunity. Vietnam, although we have no representative in the world's top 100, is also learning from both models. The recent decision of the Vietnam Chess Federation to send broader delegations to Asian youth tournaments is a step in the right direction. When I look at what Sindarov and Gukesh have achieved at age 19, I cannot help but think of Nguyen Ngoc Truong Son, Tran Tuan Quoc, Nguyen Anh Khoi, or our current young players - what could they achieve if properly invested in? I am not putting myself on the stage - I am just asking the question that many Vietnamese chess lovers are also asking. Another angle Carlsen does not say but I sense: Gukesh may be trapped in a title-identity crisis. He has become 'the youngest world champion' - a title that is hard to keep attractive. To keep attention, he needs to do something different. A win over Sindarov would not only keep the crown, but also reaffirm his status. Sindarov, on the contrary, has nothing to lose - he only has everything to gain. That is why I believe the match will not draw as much as many predict. When one side wants to prove and the other wants to build, the board will not be silent. I have seen this repeat in history: matches between two players with asymmetric motivation often have many turning points, many decisive wins, and few boring draws. Fischer - Spassky 2026, Kasparov - Karpov 2026, or more recently Carlsen - Nepomniachtchi 2026 all had such turning points. There is another often overlooked aspect: the role of the support team. Gukesh is reported to have changed his coaching staff in the past year, narrowing his advisory group down to a few trusted people. Sindarov, on the contrary, has kept the same stable team for a long time - a psychological advantage that is not small. In a world championship match, the stability of the support team can make the difference between winning and losing. Gukesh will have to face Sindarov, an opponent with a solid background, and that is a difficult-to-measure disadvantage. However, Gukesh also has his own advantage: he has experience at the highest level, he has sat in front of the world championship board and won. That is something Sindarov does not have - although he has played well in other events, the pressure of a world championship match is something completely different. Which of the two will overcome that pressure, that is the real question of the match. Another often overlooked aspect: age. Both are 19, but Gukesh and Sindarov have different maturity trajectories. Gukesh has had a year carrying the world champion title - he has gone through publicity, media pressure, expectation. Sindarov has not. The question is: can Sindarov handle the spotlight when the whole world is watching? That is a challenge no one can predict. And physical and mental stamina must also be mentioned - a world championship match can last for weeks, demanding a persistence not everyone has. Gukesh has gone through this once; Sindarov has not. This difference may be small, but in a long match, every small advantage can accumulate into a big difference. CONTRARIAN There is a truth commentators often overlook: Carlsen's assessment may be wrong. Not because Carlsen lacks knowledge, but because he may be playing his own game. Carlsen has repeatedly criticised the world championship match format. He says it is 'an extraordinarily bad way to determine the best player'. That statement is not random - it reflects a deeply held view that a match like this is not enough to decide. If Carlsen believes Sindarov is better but does not agree to play, he may be intentionally building a narrative that makes Sindarov's victory 'unconvincing' in the eyes of the public. That is how someone who once lost the throne because he refused to defend it may be trying to hold on to influence. I have followed Carlsen long enough to recognise: he never speaks randomly. Every assessment he makes has a purpose. When he calls Sindarov 'the favourite', he is stripping away Sindarov's psychological strength if Sindarov wins, while giving Gukesh a fairy-tale story 'from underdog to champion'. This is a media chess game, and Carlsen is playing it from the spectator seat. As I learned from 2026 in Russia, romantic mistakes can become stories - and Carlsen is also playing with his own romantic mistakes. Another counter-intuitive view: Gukesh's win over Ding Liren may be an exception, not the rule. Ding Liren at that time was past his peak, carrying psychological wounds, and lacking motivation. Gukesh did not beat a champion at his peak - he beat a champion on the decline. Sindarov is completely different: young, healthy, motivated, and most importantly - has nothing to lose. This is the blind spot few notice. The blind spot of Carlsen's assessment is that he judges Gukesh based on recent form, not long-term potential. If Gukesh can find a psychological punch - win the first game, or hold a complex position long enough for Sindarov to make a mistake - the match could completely turn. That is why, although Carlsen calls Sindarov 'the favourite', I still question whether the result will really match the prediction. I do not stand on anyone's side - I just look at the board and what may happen. Another counter-intuitive question: could Sindarov be at a 'false peak'? When a young chess player reaches the summit early, they may have trouble maintaining that summit. Sindarov has had an excellent year, but can he maintain that form when facing a defending champion, under the pressure of a world championship match, on the biggest stage? That is a question with no answer before the match. One more point: FIDE and organisers have changed some tiebreak rules in recent years - adding Armageddon, adjusting rapid time, changing tiebreak formats. Carlsen has criticised these changes as insufficient, but the reality is they may create unexpected scenarios that no one predicts. A world championship match can go to Armageddon tiebreak - where both players face a do-or-die game with no room for mistakes. In that scenario, Gukesh may have a slight psychological advantage thanks to his previous world championship experience. In summary, every pre-match assessment has some value, but no assessment should be taken as truth. I write this piece to record the moment before history is written - not to predict history. TAKEAWAY The match between Gukesh and Sindarov is not just a battle on the chess board. It is a story about the shift of power in modern chess, about how pre-match words can shape history, and about the fact that even Carlsen can be wrong. I will continue to follow every game, not only because I love chess, but because I believe this is one of the most important matches in the history of this mind sport. When the chess dust settles, I want to write about the moment before history was written - as I have done for 30 years. And perhaps that is also how a Vietnamese man far from home, sitting in Shanghai, looks at the World of Chess: through moments that only an outsider can see - through the sound of pieces tapping on the board, through the breathing of the players, through the silence in the stands waiting for someone to create the historic moment. When the seventeen-year-old prodigy does not yet know he is about to become a legend - that sentence still holds true for both Gukesh and Sindarov. Both stand at the threshold of legend, and they do not know which of the two will step through. That is what makes this match more beautiful than any of Carlsen's assessments - and also why I cannot stop writing about it.