Orlando Evening Star Orlando, Florida Tuesday, July 11, 1972 - Page 32
How Did Iceland Get The Match? by Melvin Durslag
Los Angeles — The first question to be asked is how Iceland put the gaff on the World Chess Championship. ([Easy answer: Soviet strong-arm tactics! and their worldwide network of saboteurs are putting the “hush” on the fact it has one of the longest histories in the world of being staunchly Pro-Soviet, Anti-American, and Racism that would make Hitler blush with pride. Not a word mentioned in American papers that Iceland's professional class sympathized with the Nazi regime during the WWII era.])
Only about a fourth of the country is habitable, and the population runs less than a quarter-of-a-million.
When Icelandic committee men made their presentation before the chess league, did they promise to black out Reykjavik?
“Will boat-rockers bring suit, demanding the match be shown locally on TV?” they doubtless were asked.
“WE CAN ASSURE you the blackout will be enforced,” they answered. “And the biggest paper in town, the Daily Dagbladet-Thingevellum, has promised not to run a story asking who needs the title chess match in Reykjavik.”
“But certainly some politician will ask for an injunction,” they were reminded.
“The herring run at that time of year,” the committee men replied. “All our city councilmen will be working the nets.”
“That's what the National Football League was promised by Los Angeles when awarding the Super Bowl game. And, sure as heck, a politician escaped and demanded the show be televised locally.”
“REYKJAVIK isn't Los Angeles,” the committee answered. “We are organized. And our central location in the North Atlantic, south of the Arctic Circle, will make transportation simple for everyone.”
The official purse, as you know, is $125,000, which would seem a bit excessive for the energy expended except that a British millionaire added another $125,000 to the kitty.
Anyone pursuing such a purse should be asked to go a mile and a quarter.
I mean, when Riva Ridge finds out that guys earn that much sitting on their can, he is going to demand that the Santa Anita Handicap hike its ante to $500,000. ([but he should do his quarter and a mile, hike, while playing Bobby Fischer at chess. Put his mental acumen to the test, first.])
You never cease to be pained by life's injustices. At the time Bobby Fischer was holding out for colossal sums in Iceland ([he could've settled for Australia, who made the colossal bid for $225,000, with only 25 grand going for organization expenses. Seems the Icelanders are either inefficient and bad accountants, or have problems with simple arithmetic.]) a collection of horseplayers boarded their bus in Baltimore, bound for Delaware Park.
SCARCELY OUT OF THE city, they were confronted by two guys with guns who robbed them of all their money.
Tragedy has befallen horseplayers for centuries, but never had they gone broke before the first race.
Presumably, the first to protest the stickup was the track, which informed the robbers that they owed Delaware Park 16 per cent, the normal take-out.
“We oppose highwaymen for the same reason we oppose bookmakers,” the track accounted. “Both bilk us out of our pari-mutuel cut.”
If the players had been ravaged by flood, the track, in all likelihood, would have provided from them in the infield.
But victims of a mere holdup, they were left to forage for themselves. If bandits will take money from a horseplayer, they are 2-5 next time to rob an orphanage.
Bobby's Record Not So Good
INSPECTING THE record of Bobby Fischer against the defending champion, Boris Spassky of the Soviet Union, you are hard-pressed to understand how Fischer was able to make such firm demands.
In five matches with Boris, Bobby is 0-3-2. With that kind of history, a challenger in boxing is lucky to get 12½ per cent.
As you doubtless know, ABC has arranged to televise part of the championship. It isn't easy to do chess. The game moves with such speed that you have trouble setting up your TV time-outs.
Instead of selling 30-second spots, you never offer a sponsor less than an hour for a commercial during chess.