What works showed up too: mornings (53%), the 800s I keep crushing (85%), and a White edge (50%) that flips the rapid script. Then the rest — 34 games to June 10, 14–18–2, minus-20 to 902, before I set blitz down and drifted to rapid. My own 900s are a coin flip (41% over 150), the 1000s a wall (28%), and the Caro-Kann that flies in rapid leaks to 38% here, though it still flashed two clean mates. The bleed is slower than last week's, but the number's stuck at 900. The next mountain is my own bracket.
Thirty-four games and the line just saws sideways — 922 down to 902, never out of the 899–925 band. No run to ride, no collapse to fear. The blitz number is simply stuck.
White scores 50.5% over 97; Black just 37.9% over 103. The mirror of rapid — there the Caro-Kann flies, here the same defense drags the Black score down.
The shape of the slump: 85% over the 800s, a 41% coin-flip with my own 900s across 150 games, and a 28% wall at the 1000s. The wins come from below me, not above.
When I win I finish it — 39% by checkmate. When I lose it's resignation (51%), outplayed not out-clocked; only 9% of losses fall on the flag. Time isn't the killer.
The one bright window is early — 53% in the morning over 55 games, easing to 42% in the afternoon and 39% by evening. Late-day blitz is where the rating leaks.
Five weeks, 200 games, 88–105–7 — a sub-.500 grind that's bled a 1040 peak down to 902. My own 900s are a coin flip, the 1000s a wall, and the rating keeps finding new floors. This is the one format that won't climb.