AThe Charleston Daily Mail Charleston, West Virginia Thursday, July 13, 1972 - Page 4
Chess Is War; All Is Fair by Jack Seamonds
“Atta babe, Bobby, put one over the ‘ole left field wall.”
A raucous, lung-stretching roar, aimed, you imagine, at some limber, gum-popping, bat-swinging Casey as he strolls to the home plate. Like, 9 to 9 in the top of the ninth, or something like that.
Actually, the “Bobby” we refer to is none other than Bobby Fischer, U.S. grand master of the chess board who has the dubious accolade of having infuriated Russia, Iceland, the prestigious Federation Internationale des Echecs (sort of a Supreme Court of chess) and various sundry commentators.
I can not help feel that, had the public paid attention to the game before, Fischer's actions in Reykjavik would have been predictable if not understood.
The key to it all, I believe, is a statement Fischer made some time ago to reporters after winning an American tournament. “I like” he remarked, “to see them squirm.”
And other grand masters have agreed, at least in principle, with this intellectually bloodthirsty sentiment. “The most beautiful moment of all,” another grand master, a Russian-American, once told a close friend, “is when I make my final move, look into my opponent's eyes, and watch the suffering. He simply has no where to go.”
You see, I think much of the “flak” Fischer has received originates from a misunderstanding of both the game and the men who play it best, the grand masters.
Fischer has been called various venomous and villainous names because he held out for more money, showed up late a few times, refused at first to play in Iceland and was more or less “rude” to his Russian opponent, a fine player named Boris Spassky, who has stoically endured the chaos.
But, just a minute. Lets take the same attributes, transfer them to another sport, one more commonly known as the “great American pastime,” baseball, and take a look at the results.
Like 'ol Dizzy Dean, a match for anyone when it came to intimidating the opposition back a few years.
And fiery baseball infielder Pepper Martin must have burned the midnight oil racking his mind for new angles on heckling the enemy teams. Many a bewildered foe must have looked back on verbal— and often, physical—clashes with the Pepper and wondered how it came about.
And, more recently, a loose-lipped boxer titled Muhammad Ali, who lost, as I recall, to a dedicated dynamo named Joe Frazier. What about a flashy, loud mouthed quarterback—Joe Namath—who wrote a lousy book, ran a lousy club and punched out a news photographer.
Remember, when Muhammad Ali was better known as Cassius Clay, and the biggest “stinger” he had was language? Remember the title of Namath's dabbling in the world of letters?
So, sports fans, if 'ole Bobby chooses to “psyche” his opponent by appearing late, and gets away with it, can you condemn him? The promoters are calling this the “match of the century,” and I think we've all heard this cliche before. Percentage of the gate is a big factor in “matches of the centuries.”
Encyclopedia Britannica says chess is war. “Two chess players fighting over the board may fitly be compared to two famous generals encountering each other on the battlefield.”
And the psychology of warfare is often unpleasant, but pragmatically, it is also often successful.
So, as we enter the first few weeks of the “match of the century” remember that chess is war, and all is fair therein.
Oh, and by the way, Checkmate.
Chess Is War; All Is Fair 13 Jul 1972, Thu The Charleston Daily Mail (Charleston, West Virginia) Newspapers.com
