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The Grandest Master of All
When Chicago-born Bobby Fischer defeated the Soviet Union's Boris
Spassky to win the world chess series in Reykjavik, Iceland, in
1972, he became an international celebrity overnight. His
victory-the first by a non-Soviet since 1948-sparked a worldwide
resurgence in popularity of the ancient board game to which Fischer
had single-mindedly devoted himself from the age of 6. Although the
temperamental chess genius lost his title by default in 1975 after a
dispute over the ground rules for a new championship series, the
legend of his aggressive and unpredictable style still dominates the
games. And as his successor, 33-year-old Anatoly Karpov, battles
with 21-year-old Gary Kasparov in Moscow for the world chess crown
in the longest-running championship ever, many observers say that
Fischer is still the greatest threat to the Soviets' firm hold on
the game. Said Rainer Rickford, publisher of the The International
Player's Chess News Weekly, a World Chess Federation publication:
"No one quite knows who is the real victor with Fischer still out
there."
At 41, Fischer lives a reclusive existence in Pasadena, Calif.,
where friends say he fears a KGB assassination plot. Keeping to his
long-standing habit of declining interviews, he has refused to
comment publicly on the current world championship. The only chess
player ever to appear on the covers of Life, Time, Newsweek and
Sports Illustrated has not been seen in public for years and
reportedly has no fixed address. He stays in the homes of close
friends-who are equally publicity-shy on his behalf. Former
grandmaster Peter Biyiasis, who briefly entertained Fischer in his
San Francisco home in 1981, described him as "the best player ever
to walk the face of the earth." During Fischer's stay the two played
more than 100 speed games, all of which the former world champion
won. Observed Biyiasis: "If anything, Bobby has gotten better. He is
like a machine."
As well, many see him as an eccentric. In 1981 Pasadena police found
him wandering on a highway and charged him with vagrancy. He spent
two days in jail and later wrote a booklet about the experience,
entitled I Was Tortured in the Pasadena
Jailhouse!, which has become a collector's item in chess
circles. Friends say that he avoids doctors as assiduously as he does
the press. As well, he was a member of the fundamentalist Worldwide
Church of God, has frequented Nazi-oriented bookshops and, according to
friends, fears a Moscow-based Jewish conspiracy to take over the world.
In 1962 Fischer denounced the Soviet chess establishment in an
article in Sports Illustrated, in which he alleged that Soviet
grandmasters were ordered to lose or draw games to advance the
careers of favored players who were being groomed as potential
champions. During the current championship games, London Times chess
critic Harry Golombek and others repeated the allegation. Wrote
Golombek: "Perhaps Kasparov has been warned not to play well and has
been given to understand that the consequences for him and his
family would be disastrous if he did."
So far, Fischer has refused all attempts to draw him back into
championship competition. In 1977 he turned down $250,000 and the
chance to play a chess game at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas and $3
million to play a tournament in the Philippines. Biyiasis insists
that Fischer plans to play chess once again for money. But Fischer
has never publicly indicated whether he intends to play in
international tournaments again. Apparently the eccentric,
inscrutable and legendary king of modern chess is keeping the end
game to himself.
by Bill Gladstone
with Cy Jamison in Toronto.
Macleans - February 11, 1985
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