ANew York Times, New York, New York, Friday, June 30, 1972 - Page 37
Iceland, a Chess Land, Waits on Edge for Fischer by Harold C. Schonberg
NYTimes — Reykjavik, Iceland. June 29—There are about 80,000 people here, and at least that many seem concerned day and day—there is no night at this time of the year—with the saga of Bobby Fischer.
Everybody is talking about Fischer's demands, about his temperament, about some derogatory things he ALLEGEDLY has said about Iceland. And especially about his nonappearance.
When he did not arrive this morning for his world championship chess match with Boris Spassky, scheduled to start Sunday, even the hot springs that heat this city seemed to bubble more furiously.
Journalists and chess followers have been descending on Reykjavik, just below the Arctic Circle, putting a more-than-usual strain on its limited supply of hotel rooms. The match, to be played in July and August, will coincide with the tourist season, and the Icelandic Chess federation has set itself up as a clearing house for people looking for private homes in which to stay.
Iceland bid to be host to the match because of an unusual degree of chess interest among its people. It has one grandmaster, Fridrik Olafasson, and two international masters. Chess clubs abound, and every newspaper has a chess columnist.
Originally Iceland wanted the match for March and April, to get an early start on the tourist season, but the match was divided between Reykjavik and Belgrade. However, Fischer raised a series of objections, and Belgrade withdrew. The date of the start was advanced to late June and then to July 2, which is where it now stands.
A purse of $125,000 has been raised, and the Icelandic Chess Federation has spent around $200,000—close to a dollar for every man, woman and child in the country.
There is a frantic race to get the 2,500-seat Sports Hall, or Laugardalshöll, ready for the first game. A special table is being built to accommodate Fischer's very long legs. At another table on the stage will be the referee, Lothar Schmid from Germany.
Workmen and electricians are swarming all over the hall, putting in telephones and Telex machines for the press. Chairs are being clamped to the floor to maintain the mausoleum-like silence that chess champions—especially Fischer—demand.
The game is to be projected on a huge screen, together with a projection of the clocks the players use. Thus the audience will be able to see the moves, as well as who is in time trouble. Each player has two and a half hours to complete 40 moves.
It is hoped that—what, with admission charges of $5 a game (less for a season ticket) and the sale of media rights—there will not be much of a loss. If there is a loss, however, the city and federal governments have agreed to make it up to the chess federation.
At 6:15 this morning the foreign press contingent—most of whose members had criss-crossed all over Reykjavik looking for the airport to wait for the plane that was supposed to bring Fischer, at last, to Iceland.
But the only chess player to get off the plane was Larry Evans, a former United States champion who is here as a journalist. Eager reporters pinned him. What did he think?
“Oh,” said Evans, breezily, “Bobby will turn up. He is playing a war of nerves.”
Ceremony Planned
The federation has commemorated the match with a stamp cover and a series of coins in gold, silver and copper. There is to be a ceremony at the National Theater Saturday night in which the chess players are to be welcomed by Christian Eldjarn, the President of Iceland, members of his Government, the Lord Mayor of Reykjavik, the Russian Ambassador, a representative from the American Embassy and Max Euwe, a former world chess champion and current head of the International Chess Federation.
But Fischer, it was learned today, is now demanding 30 per cent of the box-office receipts in addition to his share of the purse. And he has objected to having Schmid as referee. There is still a possibility that all the preparations may come to naught.
“We knew that with Bobby we would have trouble,” said an Icelandic Chess Federation spokesman. “But we are a stubborn people.”
Fischer at Kennedy
At Kennedy International Airport in New York last night, Fischer fled from newsmen who spotted him at the Icelandic Airlines terminal.
According to an Icelandic official, he did not take any flight that left last night.
