AThe Evening Sun Baltimore, Maryland Friday, March 24, 1972 - Page 4
Bobby Fischer Training At Resort For World Championship of Chess by Ann Hencken
Grossinger, N.Y. (AP) — Bobby Fischer, America's hope for the world chess championship, rushed into the vast, brightly lit dining room at Grossinger's, a giant resort tucked away in the Catskills.
He's been ensconced for weeks at the hotel, a sprawling cluster of recreational facilities, Ping Pong tables, pin ball machines, Pepsi dispensers, indoor miniature golf courses, swimming pool, ski slope and convention rooms.
At age 29, he's poised for a crack at the world title in chess, a goal since the beginning of his brilliant, but uneven, career.
Dinner Deadline
“What time is it?” he asked sitting down at a small table. He was pale and his eyes were darker looking than usual. His hair was damp and neatly combed. He wore a blue suit and black tie, printed with galloping red stallions.
He'd made the 8 p.m. dinner deadline by one minute.
“He usually comes flying in, the last person in the dining room. He's always on the run,” said the dining room hostess.
If Fischer's running, it's partly from the tension. He challenges Russian Boris Spassky for the title in a grueling 24-game match, beginning June 22, in Belgrade, Yugoslavia.
Prize Money
The international chess world has shown extraordinary interest in this match. Some seven countries bid for it. Usually, there are only two or three bids. Prize money for the match is set at $138,500, with 72½ per cent to the winner.
Fischer beat Tigran Petrosian, Russian ex-world champion, in the semifinals. If he beats Spassky he will become the first non-Russian to hold the world title in 25 years and the first official American title holder.
This is it. This is the big one—for a man who's grown up obsessed with the complex moves of 32 chessmen around a checkered board.
Solitary Figure
Fischer usually dines alone in Grossinger's banquet hall, filled with family-size tables, fake flowers, joking conventioneers, families with sullen-looking teen-agers and bubbly children in pink crocheted outfits.
“The whole theory of a hotel is a giant communal enterprise. But Bobby remains a solitary figure,” says a hotel representative. Solitude can be hard to find in this active, noisy hotel, exuding “fun-time frolic and joie de vivre.” A long-time meeting place for celebrities, potentates and politicians, it caters to conventions and arranges special singles weekends.
Can Be Good Company
But Fischer finds solitude, threading his way through a group of commercial photographers, with their blue, convention name tags. They have gathered after dinner around the grand piano to sing, “I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now.” He walks by their exhibits of complex camera equipment and past the bar where guests are busy drinking Russian vodka.
When Fischer is more relaxed, he's good company— quick, funny and interested in other people. But this weekend, he wasn't giving interviews.
He mostly stays in his room, saying in a soft voice, “I've got to study. I've got to study.”
Many hotel employees see him as a loner—withdrawn, nontalkative, absorbed in his work, but still polite.
He asked the maitre d'hotel how much he should tip. When left to decide for himself, he gave the man $100 and said to spread it around to the others. He got $55 back.
“He's a gentle boy,” says the maitre d'.
“If the conversation lags, he gets up and says ‘See ya.’ He makes very few concessions to the social amenities, which is refreshing in this day,” says a hotel employee.
Simple Regimen
His regimen is simple—and private. He does physical fitness exercises in his room, but doesn't work out at the hotel health club. He swims—but usually when no one else is around. He's polite when guests come to say hello—but keeps to himself.
He says skiing is too much trouble, but he plays table tennis, bowls and goes to the movies occasionally.
He often enters the Olympic size indoor pool at the last hour.
“He's got it down to a science, like everything else he does. The pool closes at 6:15. He waits until 6:05. He swims three or four laps and leaves,” says life guard Eddie Torres.
Last One Out
Fischer also is the last one out of the men's health club.
“He's always in a corner, to himself,” says Mike Farcus at the club, adding that Fischer can be a sore loser at table tennis, slamming down his racket when he loses.
“It's usually 2 p.m. when he gets up.” says Lillian Sterc, staff chambermaid. “I knock on the door at 1:30 and then sit and wait on the stairs until he comes out…He's polite and nice. And he's very good looking,” she says, breaking into giggles.
Why did Fischer come to Grossinger's? It's a scene from his younger days, for one thing.
“‘This was the first hotel he ever stayed at,” says an employee. His mother, Regina Fischer, brought him to the hotel when he won the U.S. championship at age 14.
Staying As Guest
Today, Fischer is staying as the guest of the hotel. If he remains in his room in the two-story Tudor-style cottage until June, he'll have the longest run of any guest on record.
“I've met the greatest figure skaters in the world. Florence Chadwick trained here. I've known great golfers like Sam Snead. They were as dedicated as Bobby but they've had other interests,” says Paul Grossinger, chief executive of the Grossinger Corp.
Fischer does have other interests. He knows pop music. He likes the Motown sound. He's bought a camera. He reads news magazines. He asked how many girls were coming to the next singles weekend, perhaps just out of curiosity.
But for now his big goal is keeping fit for the title.
Bobby Fischer Training At Resort For World Championship of Chess Fri, Mar 24, 1972 – 4 · The Evening Sun (Baltimore, Maryland) · Newspapers.com
