The Charlotte News Charlotte, North Carolina Monday, July 03, 1972 - Page 18
The Chess Connection: Chess World Awaits Fischer's Arrival
It's no coincidence that foreign policy impresarios like Henry Kissinger often look upon big power negotiations as if they were moves in a giant chess match. For when contestants who really are professional chess players come to glare across the table at each other, all the world itself might as well be at stake.
Such was the case this weekend, when enthusiasts around the world followed the eleventh hour hold-out of chess wizard Bobby Fischer, who was scheduled to begin yesterday the long-awaited world championship series against reigning champion Boris Spassky of Russia. Fischer's last-minute refusal to arrive at the Icelandic playing site on time is typical of the tense brand of psychological warfare that is conducted in pre-match maneuverings.
For if the big power negotiators borrow their terminology from the game of chess, so the chess masters in turn get their pre-game strategies from the thickets of international diplomacy. Aside from his holdout, for example, Fischer has been training since March in the seclusion of the Catskill mountains in New York—poring over charts of past Spassky matches, practicing on his board for hours at a time, lifting weights and playing tennis to build physical stamina for the long weeks of play ahead, and typically shunning reporters.
For his part, Spassky showed up early and confident at the playing site in Iceland—as every champion must be seen doing, regardless of his fear for his opponent. As part of the running psychological warfare between the two men, Spassky granted a rare press conference upon his arrival last week, a move that did not cover up the fact that a bustling team of four advance men from Russia had smoothed his passage there.
Spassky, of course, is not casual about defending his crown, even though he has not lost to Fischer in past meetings. Like other Russian athletes, he is supported and pampered by the state, and commands an enormous and enthusiastic following at home. The magnitude of this particular match, long in offing, is reflected in the size of the $125,000 purse—a tribute to the prestige Fischer has brought the game since his meteoric rise as a child prodigy a decade ago.
Even if Fischer had arrived on schedule, the match undoubtedly would not have gotten off to a smooth start. There has already been considerable haggling over matters such as the level of noise in the auditorium (Fischer wants the players' chairs bolted to the floor), the exact temperature in the room (Fischer wants 70 degrees, Spassky 75) and the degree of lighting on the chess board itself.
In this context, Fischer himself is a true representative of his country, for better and for worse. He is a fiercely individualistic and competitive to the point of disarming opponents — a quality bordering on egocentricity that has led many to criticize him for his habit of walking out on tournaments not precisely to his liking. ([Fischer was CORRECT to walk out on the tournament in Tunisia, since the organizers chose to act in an antisemitic fashion, discriminating against Fischer, based on religion and his observance of our Sabbath at the time. The other walk out during the Reshevsky-Fischer, was due to the referee, Irving Rivise, illegally, changing the schedule to suit his own personal commute to the San Francisco Open tournament. Rivise illegally changed the schedule without Fischer's consent then illegally forfeited the game in Reshevsky's favor. Fischer had every right to object to organizers' discrimination and bullying.]) At the same time, he is quick to point out that the officials who arrange such matches often enjoy using the chess players as pawns in a larger and lucrative financial game of their own.
In the past, Fischer has also been particularly critical of Russian chess circles for being too reluctant to put their stable of titles on the line for other players to challenge. But if and when the two men actually sit down across the chess board—with a packed house of 2,500 on hand to watch—all the pregame shenanigans are likely to disappear in the deadly silence of play. As Spassky remarked in concluding his press conference last week, “While seated at the chess board, I am a chess player and not a politician.”