Bobby Fischer Rediscovered E-Book

Andrew Soltis

• Herausgeber: Batsford
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 648

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

"Bobby Fischer...The precision and energy that he played with is unmatched in the history of chess." Magnus Carlsen, World Chess Champion Nearly 30 years since his last chess game, Bobby Fischer's fame continues to grow. Appearing in Hollywood movies, documentaries and best-selling books, his life and career are as fascinating as they ever were and his games continue to generate discussion. Indeed, with each new generation of computer, stunning discoveries are made about moves that have been debated by grandmasters for decades. - An updated, expanded edition of the 2003 classic, with all 100 games reanalyzed, along with six additional games - This book covers the entire career of an American chess grandmaster and eleventh World Chess Champion, going well beyond his My 60 Memorable Games, and includes rarely seen "lost" Fischer games - With new insights into what made the enigmatic Fischer play – and act – the way he did International Grandmaster Andrew Soltis played Fischer and also reported, as a journalist, on the American's legendary career. He is the author of many books, including Pawn Structure Chess, 365 Chess Master Lessons and What it Takes to Become a Chess Master.

Leseprobe

Bobby Fischer Rediscovered

New updated, expanded and re-analyzed edition

Andrew Soltis

Contents

Author’s Note

1 Donald Byrne – Fischer, Rosenwald Tournament, New York 1956

2 Fischer – Di Camillo, Eastern Open, Washington D. C. 1956

3 Bernstein – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1957-58

4 Fischer – Sherwin, U.S. Championship, New York 1957-58

5 Fischer – Larsen, Interzonal, Portorož 1958

6 Fischer – Kalme, U.S. Championship, New York 1958-59

7 Fischer – Jacobo Bolbochán, Mar del Plata 1959

8 Fischer – Rossetto, Mar del Plata 1959

9 Fischer – Pilnik, Santiago 1959

10 Keres – Fischer, Candidates Tournament, Yugoslavia 1959

11 Fischer – Gligorić, Candidates Tournament, Yugoslavia 1959

12 Fischer – Benko, Candidates Tournament, Yugoslavia 1959

13 Fischer – Petrosian, Candidates Tournament, Yugoslavia 1959

14 Denker – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1959-60

15 Gudmundsson – Fischer, Reykjavik 1960

16 Bazan – Fischer, Mar del Plata 1960

17 Fischer – Olafsson, Mar del Plata 1960

18 Taimanov – Fischer, Buenos Aires 1960

19 Letelier – Fischer, Olympiad, Leipzig 1960

20 Szabó – Fischer, Olympiad, Leipzig 1960

21 Lombardy – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1960-61

22 Fischer – Reshevsky, Second Match Game, New York 1961

23 Gligorić – Fischer, Bled 1961

24 Fischer – Tal, Bled 1961

25 Fischer – Olafsson, Bled 1961

26 Fischer – Geller, Bled 1961

27 Bisguier – Fischer, Bled 1961

28 Fischer – Portisch, Interzonal, Stockholm 1962

29 Bilek – Fischer, Interzonal, Stockholm 1962

30 Fischer – German, Interzonal, Stockholm 1962

31 Bertok – Fischer, Interzonal, Stockholm 1962

32 Fischer – Julio Bolbochán, Interzonal, Stockholm 1962

33 Fischer – Keres, Candidates Tournament, Curaçao 1962

34 Tal – Fischer, Candidates Tournament, Curaçao 1962

35 Fischer – Tal, Candidates Tournament, Curaçao 1962

36 Larsen – Fischer, Exhibition, Copenhagen 1962

37 Fischer – Purevzhav, Olympiad, Varna 1962

38 Botvinnik – Fischer, Olympiad, Varna 1962

39 Fischer – Najdorf, Olympiad, Varna 1962

40 Blau – Fischer, Olympiad, Varna 1962

41 Fischer – Robatsch, Olympiad, Varna 1962

42 Berliner – Fischer, Western Open, Bay City 1963

43 Fischer – Bisguier, New York State Open, Poughkeepsie 1963

44 Robert Byrne – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1963-64

45 Fischer – Benko, U.S. Championship, New York 1963-64

46 Addison – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1963-64

47 Fischer – Evans, U.S. Championship, New York 1963-64

48 Donald Byrne – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1963-64

49 Robatsch – Fischer, Capablanca Memorial, Havana 1965

50 Fischer – Donner, Capablanca Memorial, Havana 1965

51 Tringov – Fischer, Capablanca Memorial, Havana 1965

52 Fischer – Reshevsky, Second Piatigorsky Cup, Santa Monica 1966

53 Donner – Fischer, Second Piatigorsky Cup, Santa Monica 1966

54 Portisch - Fischer, Second Piatigorsky Cup, Santa Monica 1966

55 Fischer – Najdorf, Second Piatigorsky Cup, Santa Monica 1966

56 Fischer – Durão, Olympiad, Havana 1966

57 Pomar – Fischer, Olympiad, Havana 1966

58 Fischer – Gligorić, Olympiad, Havana 1966

59 Johannessen – Fischer, Olympiad, Havana 1966

60 Bisguier – Fischer, U.S. Championship, New York 1966-67

61 Fischer – Forintos, Monte Carlo 1967

62 Larsen – Fischer, Monte Carlo 1967

63 Fischer – Naranja, Philippines 1967

64 Fischer – Dely, Skopje 1967

65 Kholmov – Fischer, Skopje 1967

66 Fischer – Miagmasuren, Interzonal, Sousse 1967

67 Cuéllar – Fischer, Interzonal, Sousse 1967

68 Fischer – Stein, Interzonal, Sousse 1967

69 Fischer – Kagan, Netanya 1968

70 Nikolić – Fischer, Vinkovci 1968

71 Fischer – Minić, Vinkovci 1968

72 Matulović – Fischer, Vinkovci 1968

73 Saidy – Fischer, Marshall-Manhattan Match, New York 1968

74 Fischer – Petrosian, U.S.S.R. v Rest of World, Belgrade 1970

75 Fischer – Matulović, Blitz Tournament, Herceg-Novi 1970

76 Ghitescu – Fischer, Rovinj-Zagreb 1970

77 Fischer – Uhlmann, Rovinj-Zagreb 1970

78 Fischer – Nicevski, Rovinj-Zagreb 1970

79 Szabó – Fischer, Buenos Aires 1970

80 Fischer – Tukmakov, Buenos Aires 1970

81 Fischer – Schweber, Buenos Aires 1970

82 Fischer – Gheorghiu, Buenos Aires 1970

83 Quinteros – Fischer, Buenos Aires 1970

84 Fischer – Panno, Buenos Aires 1970

85 Agdamus – Fischer, Buenos Aires 1970

86 Fischer – Unzicker, Olympiad, Siegen 1970

87 Fischer – Andersson, Exhibition Game, Siegen 1970

88 Smyslov – Fischer, Interzonal, Palma de Mallorca 1970

89 Suttles – Fischer, Interzonal, Palma de Mallorca 1970

90 Fischer – Taimanov, Fourth Game, Candidates, Vancouver 1971

91 Fischer – Larsen, First Game, Candidates, Denver 1971

92 Larsen – Fischer, Fourth Game, Candidates, Denver 1971

93 Fischer – Larsen, Fifth Game, Candidates, Denver 1971

94 Fischer – Petrosian, First Game, Candidates, Buenos Aires 1971

95 Fischer – Petrosian, Seventh Game, Candidates, Buenos Aires 1971

96 Spassky – Fischer, Third Game, World Championship 1972

97 Fischer – Spassky, Tenth Game, World Championship 1972

98 Spassky – Fischer, Thirteenth Game, World Championship 1972

99 Fischer – Spassky, First Match Game, Sveti Stefan 1992

100 Fischer – Spassky, Eleventh Match Game, Sveti Stefan 1992

101 Fischer - Larsen, Speed Game, Santa Monica 1966

102 Tal – Fischer, Blitz Tournament, Herceg-Novi 1970

103 Fischer – Seidler, Simultaneous Exhibition, Buenos Aires 1971

104 Brandts – Fischer, Speed Tournament, New York 1971

105 Fischer – Hoppe, Clock Simultaneous, Davis 1964

106 Fischer – Gligorić, Training Match, Sveti Stefan 1992

107 Fischer – Smyslov, Capablanca Memorial, Havana 1965

Epilogue

Index of Opponents

Index of Openings

ECO Openings Index

Author’s Note

Nearly a decade after Bobby Fischer won the worId chess championship – and then disappeared – he was living secretly in San Francisco. For months in 1981 he was the house guest of Grandmaster Peter Biyiasas and his wife Ruth Haring a few blocks north of Golden Gate Park. Fischer felt he was living underground, freed from the public attention he said he hated. Fischer had developed a deep interest in all things Indian. He convinced Biyiasas to go with him to see a motion picture made in India. It was playing at a movie theatre some distance away so they decided to take a city bus. Fischer insisted they sit at the back of the bus so he wouldn’t be recognized. All went well until a young man got on at the front of bus and, after finding a seat, looked back and stared. Biyiasas realized he was a regular member of the busy Bay Area chess community.

Fischer became upset. I hate it when they recognize me, he told Biyiasas.

What do you mean recognize you? Biyiasas replied. Chessplayers haven’t seen you in years. You don’t even look the same. He recognized me said Biyiasas, who had won several major California tournaments.

For the rest of the bus ride, until the starer got off, Fischer and Biyiasas argued about who was the real target of the starer’s attention.

This was one of the many contradictions in the life of Fischer. He craved fame and fiercely disdained it. He lived most of his life like a miser but demanded huge (for his time) amounts of money. He said all he ever wanted to do was play chess – then virtually gave up the game at age 29. He was deeply religious but kept changing religions. He was a fanatic about his health yet refused the common medical treatment that would have prolonged his life for many years.

Why was Bobby the way he was? I suspect that many of his quirks came from his upbringing. I got a clue to this during my early days as a newspaper reporter.

In October 1972 I was sitting at my typewriter at the New York Post when my desk phone rang. The caller identified herself as Regina Pustan. I recognized the name. She didn’t have to add – but she did – “I am Bobby Fischer’s mother.”

She said she had been living in Great Britain for years but had come to America to be interviewed by newspapers. I couldn’t believe my good luck. This was just a month after the Fischer – Spassky match ended and he was a media phenomenon. He didn’t have to be identified by surname in headlines. When he won the final match game in Iceland, my paper’s front page read simply “Bobby’s The Champ.”

We quickly agreed on logistics: Yes, I could interview her at her hotel. No, I would not need more than an hour. Yes, I could bring a Post photographer. We were winding this up when she casually added that she could not say anything about her son.

I knew that she and Fischer had had a strained relationship. But I was still dumbfounded. What would we be talking about, if not Bobby, I asked?

Why, the election, of course, she said. She had come to the United States to explain to American voters how they must vote. Something simply had to be done to prevent President Richard Nixon from being re-elected the following month.

I understand how you feel, I replied. There are many people who live in America and feel that way. But they would also like to see their opinions given prominent display in the pages of a newspaper with one million readers. Why should we be giving space to someone who had left the United States several years before?

She was shocked by the question. To her, the answer was obvious: “Because I am Bobby Fischer’s mother,” she said.

Like her son she expected the respect and attention of a celebrity. But, like her son, she saw no reason to pay the price of publicity. I politely declined to interview her.

I had been fascinated by Fischer for more than ten years. I first saw Bobby one night in late 1961. This was well before my first clocked game – in fact, it was not long after I’d learned that chess was played with clocks. The occasion, oddly enough, was my grandmother’s first and only visit to New York from Newton, Iowa. My mother decided to shock her by taking a stroll through the bohemian streets of Greenwich Village. Walking ahead of them along Thompson Street I spotted a dilapidated storefront that was labeled “Rossolimo’s Chess Studio” and convinced my mother and grandmother to drop in for a minute or two. While the three of us stood a few steps inside the doorway to admire the exotic sets for sale, Fischer walked in. Or, rather, lurched in. He never seemed to move in a routine manner, but as a burst of energy.

He was 18, four years older than me, and his oversized suit made him look taller and more rumpled than his 6-foot-2 and 180 or so pounds. He had come to see Nick Rossolimo, the proprietor of the studio, who, I had heard, was some kind of master. I had never actually seen a master but was well aware of Fischer. He explained to Rossolimo that he had just returned from a tournament at a place called Bled and seemed eager to talk about it. I realized that he wanted – no, he needed – to talk about it to an audience that understood him. He was relaxed, natural and not at all the prima donna I’d read about. He was just Bobby. There were four skittles games going on in the cramped studio, but none of the players, who were paying the outrageous sum of 25 cents an hour to play one another, looked up. It struck me that chess was very strange indeed if one of the best players in the world didn’t even get a flicker of recognition when sitting a few feet away and talking about his latest success.

The next time I saw Fischer he was playing chess. Not in the same 1600-rated tournaments I was, of course. He was in the U.S. Championship, which had become an annual event, thanks in large part to interest in Fischer. The tournament was held each Christmastime in a Manhattan hotel ballroom. Before each round Hans Kmoch, the tournament director, or one of his assistants would choose which of us young myrmidons would be allowed to operate demonstration boards on the stage. (My friend Russ Garber had learned how the pieces moved only a few months before he handled Fischer’s 1963 game with Benko, a.k.a. the 19 ♖f6!! game.)

Everyone, of course, wanted to work Bobby’s board. If you were lucky, he might send you on an errand, in between moves, to bring him back a container of milk – always milk – and some food. I never got the chance. Usually I was assigned to a Sherwin-vs.-Mednis or, if I was lucky, a Byrne-vs.-Benko. But seated at the demo board, you were usually only a few feet from the players, so I got a chance to watch Fischer first hand.

He had quick, large eyes that darted about the board as he concentrated, and distinctive eyebrows that always gave away his surprise when he saw something new in his calculations. And he had extraordinarily long fingers. They cradled his head when he went into a deep think – which for him meant only ten minutes. Fischer seemed awkward at everything else, even when signing his name in block letters (he apparently never learned script). But when moving the pieces, he exuded a kind of strange, athletic grace. Moving the pieces may have been his most comfortable form of communication. Years later Angela Julian Day told me of her one meeting with Fischer. She was helping to run the Grandmaster Association office in Brussels in 1990. The great promotional hope of the GMA was their World Cup tournaments, and what was supposed to save the Cup from going the way of all previous chess promotions was getting Fischer to play in it. One night Angie went to what she thought was a social get-together with various GMA dignitaries when she discovered the man seated across from her was Bobby Fischer. But Fischer seemed mute. After several clumsy moments of silence, he pulled out of his pocket a well-worn version of the hand-held game in which you move 15 numbered tiles around a plastic grid that has spaces for 16. Fischer indicated that she should mix up the tiles, and then time him with her wristwatch. She did. Fischer unscrambled the tiles in a fraction of a minute. His long, nimble fingers worked remarkably fast. In fact he regarded himself as the world champion at this. “And all I could think was what a waste,” Angie Day recalled.

In September 1963 I got a closer look at Fischer when I played at the New York State Open in Poughkeepsie. It turned out to be Fischer’s last Swiss System tournament and he won all his seven games. I started out rated around number 40 in the field of 57 players but by the final round had worked up to board three where I had White against James T. Sherwin. When I resigned around move 60, there didn’t seem like much to say, and besides there was no time to postmortem if I was going to catch my car ride back to New York. But on the following night there was some event at the Marshall Chess Club that attracted a throng.

Sherwin showed up and asked if I wanted to look over the game. I was shocked. After all, he outrated me by more than 500 points and had just proven it. We headed to the back room, to the “Capablanca table,” to analyze. My second surprise came when Fischer materialized and sat down on my side of the board. Several other masters looked on, peering over one another’s shoulders, at the position. Sherwin had been working on this opening (1 e4 c5 2 ♘f3 ♘f6 3 e5 ♘d5) for months and had spent more than 20 hours on it. But no one had allowed him to show over the board what he’d found until I had the previous day. Even Fischer avoided the issue, playing 3 ♘c3 against Sherwin in the previous year’s U.S. Championship.

Sherwin presented the moves with a flourish, particularly 15...♗g1, his TN. (As far as I know, it remains virtually unknown.) He really did make moves he was proud of by pushing the piece with his pinky, as Fischer described in the first pages of My 60 Memorable Games. But when matters got interesting, around move 17, Fischer stopped the show by asking, “Whadya got on this?” and moved a white piece. Sherwin had an answer but it was demolished by a few quick Fischer follow-ups. This happened again a move later in the game, and then again. After the fourth time that he’d refuted a Sherwin move, Fischer asked, “You spent 20 hours on this?”

I witnessed Fischer in action several more times over the next few years. For example:

- Shortly after his great 11-0 triumph in the U.S. Championship, when he demonstrated his win over Robert Byrne in the front room of the Marshall, next to the bust of Frank Marshall, and joked about how the Soviets would try to ridicule his play.

- When he returned to the “Capablanca table” in 1965, playing opponents long-distance because the U.S. State Department wouldn’t let him play them face-to-face in Havana. Despite the bizarre setting, he remained approachable, willing to chat about his last game, about what went wrong and what went right.

- When he would show up, usually late at night, at the Manhattan Chess Club, or at the Times Square dive called The New York Chess and Checker Club – but known among games players as “The Fleahouse” – Fischer would give outrageous time odds in blitz games to masters. Or just chat about chess. When that was the subject he was always just Bobby.

It seems incredible now, but no one in New York’s small chess community seemed to think it the slightest bit odd that perhaps the greatest player in history was among us, periodically disappearing and then reappearing again when he was ready to play chess. Once, when he had vanished for several months, it was passed through the grapevine with matter-of-factness that Fischer had confined himself to a Midtown hotel room from which he wasn’t going to leave until he perfected his play in rook endgames.

How Fischer earned a living was a mystery. He had asked for – and gotten – the astronomical sum of $250 for each simultaneous exhibition he gave. But after 1965 he rarely gave simuls. Al Horowitz, who began the New York Times chess column in 1962, told me that the Times had offered Fischer $15,000-plus a year for a regular column, even a ghostwritten column. Whether that was true was unclear, to use the traditional annotator’s hedge, because Horowitz was somewhat unreliable. Fischer told other people that he was paid $300 a month for his monthly column in Boy’s Life, the Boy Scout magazine.

And there were always rumors about a book. I knew his first book, Bobby Fischer’s Games of Chess, a gossamer collection of his games from his first U.S. Championship and Interzonal. He also contributed some ideas, but chiefly his name, to Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess, which earned more than twice as much for him as any of his other books. But Fischer had been working for years on his magnum opus, which was supposed to be called Bobby Fischer’s Best Games of Chess. He first said it would appear after “my match with Botvinnik.” When that didn’t come to pass, he added more games and it was retitled My 50 Memorable Games. But by 1966 there was still no sign of it.

Accounts of its fate percolated through New York chess circles but the only thing that was certain was that Fischer decided against publishing after the manuscript was already set in metal type. The Fischer hangers-on I knew said he didn’t want to give up his openings secrets or be caught in an analytical error so he bought his way out of the contract. Larry Evans, whose role in the book is surely more than anyone admitted, said Fischer reversed himself in 1968 and decided to go ahead with the now 60 Memorable Games. “The world’s coming to an end anyway,” Bobby explained.

When the book appeared in 1969, Fischer had been invisible for months. By that time I was a 2400 player and even got to play a few boards away from him in a Manhattan Chess Club – Marshall Chess Club team match in November 1968. The closest contact I had with him in the next year was odd and quite indirect, at the World Student Olympiad in Dresden. Just before one round I had to borrow a pair of shoes from teammate Bernard Zuckerman. They fit my size 12 feet nearly perfectly. “They’re Bobby’s,” Zuckerman explained. “He gives me some of his old clothes.” (That afternoon I played Fischer’s favorite 6 ♗c4 against the Najdorf Variation and won the prettiest game I ever played.)

The only time I faced Fischer over the board was in August 1971. This was in between Fischer’s 6-0 Candidates match victories over Mark Taimanov and Bent Larsen. The Manhattan Chess Club had just moved to new quarters – they made three more forced moves before going out of business in 2002 – and a speed tournament was arranged to mark the occasion. This was during one of Fischer’s press-friendly periods, and the organizers allowed photographers a short period to work the room. I was paired with Fischer in the first round. The result was a huge photo in the next day’s Times: We’re playing a 6 ♗c4 Najdorf, of course, and he’s waiting for my 11th move. About thirty fans are watching, some standing on chairs to get a better view. Around move 30 Fischer blundered away his queen for a rook and pawn. It was an easy win but I knew I’d never win it. Fischer’s presence paralyzed me. Instead of trying to promote a pawn, I tried to blockade his, and lost miserably. I put up no resistance in the second game.

The last time I saw him was Sept. 21, 1972, “Bobby Fischer Day” in New York, a celebration at City Hall three weeks after the match ended. There were the usual speeches, including brief (scripted) remarks by Bobby. Later there was a reception in the Blue Room, a ceremonial hall usually reserved for special occasions. Fischer and I chatted about the news coverage of the match in New York. He seemed relaxed, natural – still just Bobby.

Thirty years later, I looked at Fischer’s games for the first time since they were played. What struck me is that they fell into two categories. Some were, in fact, overrated. But many more were underrated – if known at all. And his originality, so striking at the time, had been lost with time. It seemed to me Fischer deserved an entirely new look.

The more I played over the moves again, the more it occurred to me that Fischer’s chess was shaped by a single goal – to beat the Soviets. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising, strategy in chess – as in war, business, election campaigns and sports – evolves for a practical reason: Great innovations aren’t created for the sake of science. They’re created for the specific aim of defeating the strategy that made other guys successful. Alexander the Great and his father didn’t invent the Macedonian battle phalanx because of some lofty desire to improve battlefield theory. They did it to crush the Persians.

The Soviet style that Fischer faced had come about in much the same way. The Russians, Ukrainians, et al wanted to defeat the dominant style of the 1930s – the material-driven endgame-oriented strategies that had served Capablanca, Flohr and Fine so well. They developed a sharply different set of priorities, beginning with the initiative. Black was entitled to it as much as White and he could start the struggle for it as early as the opening, even if he has to give up material – such as in the celebrated “Soviet Exchange sacrifice” – or incur positional weaknesses, such as backward pawns or giving up bishop for knight.

Fischer, it struck me, was a reaction to this reaction. He adopted many of the Soviets’ weapons, like the King’s Indian and the Najdorf Sicilian, but with the eyes of a Classical player. And he liked to grab material. “I don’t know who is better, Bobby, but I offer a draw,” Vlastimil Hort said after 44 moves at Siegen 1970. “I don’t know who is better either but I have an extra pawn,” Fischer said in refusing. He was, in the words of one Russian admirer, the perfect harmony of position and material. If the Soviets were the antithesis of the 1930s’ thesis, Fischer was the new synthesis. It’s a dialectic that would have pleased Marx.

I found certain recurring themes in Fischer’s games. Among them:

- “To get squares, you gotta give squares,” as he put it. He understood that in order to win you had to control certain crucial points of the board and that often meant you had to concede others. This is particularly evident in Games 2, 56, 57, 60, 61, 86, and 92.

- Ugly moves aren’t bad.

Although he could be as dogmatic as Steinitz, Fischer had an instinct for moves that few other grandmasters would consider. For example, 19 ♘xe7+ in Game 2, 13 ♕e2 in Game 11, 13...♘g4 in Game 27, 5 ♕e2 in Game 30, 13 a3 in Game 66, 11...♘h5 in Game 96 and giving up a fianchettoed bishop for a knight on d4 in Games 40 and 79.

- Material matters. Fischer played great sacrificial games but almost all of them occurred before he was 21. He was basically a materialist, a materialist who had a deeper understanding of the exchange value of pieces than almost any other player. His handling of a bishop-versus-knight middlegame or queen-versus-two-rook endgame was remarkable, as was his appreciation of how great the winning chances are in rook-and bishops-of-opposite-color endings. I had always felt uncomfortable giving up two rooks for my opponent’s queen. Then I realized Fischer’s discovery: The more minor pieces there are on the board, the greater the queen’s chances against the rooks.

- Technique has many faces. Few players are equally good at obtaining and realizing an advantage – they are quite different skills – but as Mark Dvoretsky pointed out, Fischer was the exception. His trademark was the timely conversion of one kind of advantage to another, as in Games 6, 7, 25, 28, 35, 40, 50, 55, 57 and 95.

What would have happened if Fischer had continued to play? What would we have learned from his games with Karpov and Kasparov – if not Carlsen? (Carlsen was a strong grandmaster during the last years of Fischer’s life.) How would he have countered new weapons such as the Kalashnikov Sicilian, the Trompowsky Attack, and the many anti-Sicilian attacks that became popular from 1975 on? Would he have been the one to figure out how to beat the Berlin Defense? How would he have coped with faster time controls? He was, after all, the world’s best blitz player. Would he have been able to compete alone in an era of entourages and teams of seconds? How would he have fared against computers like Deep Blue? How different would chess be today if he had stayed?

We will never know. All we have left is the games.

Since the first edition of this book, Fischer games have been re-analyzed by many others, including Garry Kasparov, with the help of computers. Everyone finds something new – hidden resources, nuances and errors in earlier annotations. This is almost certain to go on with each new generation of stronger analytic engines. I have made extensive revisions since I tackled these games in 2003. But I suspect Fischer’s moves, like his life, will remain a source of fascination – if not mystery – well into this century.

Andrew Soltis

New York, 2019

1

A one-paragraph snippet of news under the headline “New York’s New Prodigy” appeared in the November 9, 1956 issue of the British magazine Chess. It reported that Samuel Reshevsky had won the 3rd Rosenwald tournament, a prestigious event which was marked by a controversial double forfeit, and a remarkable game: “Donald Byrne was beaten by a 13-year-old boy named Fischer who totaled 4½ points, in a game of great depth and brilliancy...”

Donald Byrne – Fischer

Rosenwald Tournament, New York 1956Grünfeld Defense (D96)

1

♘f3

♘f6

2

c4

g6

3

♘c3

♗g7

4

d4

0-0

5

♗f4

d5

6

♕b3

Before 1956 White usually combined ♗f4 with e3 before ♕b3. The difference is that 6...c5 can be met by 7 dxc5 ♕a5 and then 8 ♗d2! favors White.

6

...

dxc4

7

♕xc4

c6

8

e4

Most opening books of the day cited one example of this position, from a 1943 game that continued 8...b5 9 ♕b3 ♕a5 10 ♗d3 ♗e6 with advantage to White after 11 ♕d1 ♗g4 12 0-0 ♖d8 13 e5!.

8

...

♘bd7

9

♖d1

♘b6

10

♕c5!

♗g4

Black prepares 11...♘fd7 12 ♕a3 e5! 13 dxe5 ♕e8 and ...♘xe5 with good play.

11

♗g5?

This way of stopping 11...♘fd7 is the source of White’s troubles. Preferable was 11 ♗e2 ♘fd7 12 ♕a3 ♗xf3. Then 13 ♗xf3 e5 14 dxe5 ♕e8 15 ♗e2 ♘xe5 16 0-0 and ♖fe1 leaves White a tiny edge. But 13 gxf3!, a common theme in the Grünfeld, gives him more: 13...e5 14 dxe5 ♕e8 15 ♗e3 ♕xe5 16 f4 and 17 e5.

“The next seven moves provide one of the most remarkable passages in the whole of recorded chess,” W.H. Cozens wrote in The King Hunt.

11

...

♘a4!!

Now 12 ♘xa4 ♘xe4 13 ♕xe7 ♕a5+ 14 ♘c3 ♖fe8 or 14 b4 ♕xa4 15 ♕xe4 ♖fe8 16 ♗e7 ♗xf3 17 gxf3 ♗f6 are lost. Better but still poor is 13 ♕c1 ♕a5+ 14 ♘c3 ♗xf3 15 gxf3 ♘xg5.

12

♕a3

♘xc3

13

bxc3

♘xe4!

Without this move, exploiting the absence of the c3-knight, Black’s 11th move might have been remembered as a positional error that only strengthened White’s center. Now 14 ♕xe7? ♘xg5 or 14...♕xe7 15 ♗xe7 ♖fe8 lose quickly.

14

♗xe7

Byrne expected 14...♕e8, after which 15 ♖d3! is seemingly powerful. But 15...c5 is a strong Exchange sacrifice (16 ♗xf8 ♗xf8 17 ♕b2 cxd4 18 cxd4 ♕a4).

14

...

♕b6!

The second stage of the combination is founded on 15 ♗xf8 ♗xf8 16 ♕b3 ♘xc3 17 ♕xc3?? ♗b4 or 17 ♕xb6 axb6 with a winning ending.

15

♗c4

Now 15...♖fe8 16 0-0 ♗xf3 17 gxf3 ♘xc3 fails to 18 ♗c5 ♘b5 19 ♗xf7+!, a trick we’ll see again.

15

...

♘xc3!

Based on 16 ♕xc3 ♖fe8 17 ♕e3 ♗f6.

16

♗c5

♖fe8+

17

♔f1

Paul Keres, profiling Fischer on the eve of Curaçao 1962, imagined the scene: “Byrne apparently gloated silently at his opponent.” Black loses on 17...♕c7 18 ♕xc3 and gets insufficient compensation for the queen after 17...♘xd1 18 ♗xb6 axb6 19 ♕b3. The desperado 17...♘b5 again fails to 18 ♗xf7+! (18...♔h8 19 ♗xb6 ♘xa3 20 ♗xe8 or 18...♔xf7 19 ♕b3+ ♗e6 20 ♘g5+).

17

...

♗e6!!

“But White’s joy was suddenly destroyed by Bobby’s move,” Keres wrote in Ogonyok. Byrne must take the queen since 18 ♗xe6 allows smothered mate (18...♕b5+ 19 ♔g1 ♘e2+ 20 ♔f1 ♘g3+ and ...♕f1+) and 18 ♕xc3 ♕xc5! 19 dxc5 ♗xc3 is a lost ending. Also, 18 ♗d3 allows the desperado to work (18...♘b5! 19 ♕b4 ♕c7 20 a4 a5! and wins).

18

♗xb6

♗xc4+

19

♔g1

♘e2+

20

♔f1

♘xd4+

Black’s level of risk is minimal since he can draw by perpetual check at several points and White has few choices (21 ♖d3?? axb6 22 ♕c3 ♘xf3 23 ♕xc4 ♖e1 mate).

21

♔g1

♘e2+

22

♔f1

♘c3+

23

♔g1

axb6

Now 24 ♕c1?? ♘e2+ or 24 ♕d6 ♖ad8 25 ♕xd8 ♘e2+ 26 ♔f1 ♘d4+! and 27...♖xd8.

24

♕b4

24

...

♖a4

Black decides to bank his material edge rather than preserve the discovered check mechanism with 24...♘e2+ 25 ♔f1 ♗b5. The latter is stronger – but if Black had chosen it and gone on to win mundanely (26 ♖d2 ♗c3! 27 ♕xb5 cxb5 28 ♖xe2 ♖xe2 29 ♔xe2 ♖xa2+) would this game be remembered more than half a century later?

25

♕xb6

Or 25 ♕d6 ♘xd1 26 ♕xd1 ♖xa2 and wins.

25

...

♘xd1

26

h3?

With 26 ♕xb7! Black would have been forced to prove he has a mating attack – which he probably does after 26...♗d5 27 ♕d7 ♖ea8.

26

...

♖xa2

27

♔h2

♘xf2

28

♖e1

♖xe1

29

♕d8+

♗f8

30

♘xe1

♗d5

“It was quite an experience to watch him during the critical stage of the game,” Hans Kmoch wrote of Fischer. “There he sat like a little Buddha, showing his moves with the calm regularity of an automaton.”

31

♘f3

♘e4

32

♕b8

32

...

b5

Black handles the final stage carefully. Here 32...♔g7! and ...♗d6+ was also strong, particularly since 33 ♕xb7? ♗d6+ 34 ♔h1 ♖a1+ ends the game.

33

h4

h5

34

♘e5

♔g7

35

♔g1

♗c5+

36

♔f1

This allows mate but so does 36 ♔h1 ♘g3+ 37 ♔h2 ♘f1+ 38 ♔h3 ♗xg2 (and 36 ♔h2 ♗d6 37 ♕e8 ♘f6 was hopeless).

36

...

♘g3+

Faster was 36...♖f2+! 37 ♔e1 (37 ♔g1 ♖f4+) ♗b4+ 38 ♔d1 ♗b3+ 39 ♔c1 ♗a3+.

37

♔e1

♗b4+

Another quicker mate was 37...♖e2+ 38 ♔d1 ♗b3+ but it hardly matters.

38

♔d1

♗b3+

39

♔c1

♘e2+

40

♔b1

♘c3+

41

♔c1

♖c2 mate

More than a decade later Fischer said this was one of the few games of his that he had committed to memory.

2

Fischer’s first nickname was the “Corduroy Killer” because he would show up, day after day, at the Brooklyn Chess Club in the same pants, sneakers and sweater to play hours of chess. His progress to “killer” status was extraordinarily quick, even compared with more recent prodigies such as Carlsen, Caruana and Karjakin. Fischer received a U.S. Chess Federation rating of 1830 after his first tournament outside Brooklyn. But within two and a half years he was U.S. Champion. “I just got good,” he explained. The following, played against one of his mentors, was much more typical of his style at the time than the Byrne brilliancy.

Fischer – Attilio Di Camillo

Eastern Open,Washington, D.C. 1956Ruy Lopez (C78)

1

e4

e5

2

♘f3

♘c6

3

♗b5

a6

4

♗a4

♘f6

5

0-0

b5

6

♗b3

d6

An old variation whose chief virtue is that it may lure White into the 7 ♘g5 d5 8 exd5 ♘d4! gambit – and whose chief liability is that it tempts Black into a premature ...♗g4.

7

c3

♗g4?

Black could get back into a main Lopez line with 7...♘a5 8 ♗c2 c5 9 d4 ♕c7. This was a topical move order because of a Bronstein – Evans game from the 1954 U.S.S.R. – U.S. match that went 10 ♘bd2 g6? 11 b4!.

8

h3

♗h5

9

d3!

White can obtain an edge by attacking Black’s bishop with ♘d2-f1-g3. But pushing the pawn to d4 would vindicate Black’s seventh move by granting him ...exd4 pressure.

9

...

♗e7

10

♘bd2

0-0

Black should try to justify his previous play with 10...♕d7 and ...g5-g4 (since 11 g4? allows 11...♘xg4 12 hxg4 ♕xg4+ and 13...♗g5!).

11

♖e1

♕d7

12

♘f1

♘a5

13

♗c2

h6

To ease Black’s congestion by ...♘h7-g5 or ...♗g5.

14

g4!

♗g6

Now the sacrifice 14...♘xg4 15 hxg4 ♕xg4+ is refuted by 16 ♘g3 ♕xf3 17 ♘xh5.

15

♘g3

♘h7

16

♘f5

♘b7?

The knight is headed for e6 via c5 or d8. But better was 16...♗g5, and if 17 d4, then 17...♕e6.

17

d4!

Well timed since 17...♗f6 or 17...♖fd8 cost a pawn to 18 dxe5, and 17...f6 18 dxe5 ♗xf5 19 gxf5 fxe5 drops a piece after 20 ♕d5+. Finally, 17...♕e6 is bad because of 18 dxe5 dxe5 19 ♘xe7+ ♕xe7 20 ♕d5!.

17

...

exd4

18

cxd4

♘d8

19

♘xe7+!

White exchanges a knight that took four moves to reach f5 for a bishop that didn’t seem to be doing much. (Much like 22 ♘xd7+ in Game 95.) But this is a necessary prelude to closing the center, since 19 d5? ♗xf5 20 gxf5 ♗f6 gives Black better chances than the game.

19

...

♕xe7

20

d5

c5

Otherwise 21 ♘d4.

21

♗f4!

Not 21 dxc6 ♘xc6 22 ♗f4 ♘e5.

21

...

♘b7

22

♗g3

Remarkable caution. White is playing for e4-e5 but there is no obvious way to make progress after 22 e5 ♗xc2 23 ♕xc2 ♖ae8. Instead, Fischer will probe the queenside before e4-e5 and for that reason he anticipates distractions such as ...♕f6.

22

...

♖fe8

23

a4!

♕f6

On 23...♘g5 White avoids 24 ♘xg5 hxg5! and ...f6 and plays 24 ♘d2.

24

axb5

axb5

25

♔g2

♘g5

White is closing in after 25...♕xb2 26 ♖b1 ♕f6 27 ♖xb5, e.g. 27...♘a5 28 e5! or 27...♖e7 28 ♖b6 or 28 ♕b1.

26

♘xg5

hxg5

27

♖xa8

♖xa8

28

e5!

♗xc2

29

♕xc2

dxe5

White pockets a pawn after 29...♕e7 30 ♕d2.

30

♗xe5

♕d8

31

d6!

c4

More active is 31...♘xd6 32 ♕xc5 ♘c4. But 32 ♖d1! ♖a6 33 ♔g1 avoids ...♕a8+ and would have left Black’s queen in a bad pin.

32

♕e4

♘c5

33

♕c6

White could shorten matters with 33 ♕d5!.

33

...

♘d3

34

♖e3

♖c8

Not 34...♘xe5 35 ♖xe5 ♖c8 36 ♕d5, e.g. 36...♕d7 37 ♖e7 ♕c6 38 ♕xc6 followed by ♖e8+ and d6-d7. The text sets a trap: 35 ♕xb5?? ♖c5.

35

♕b7

♖b8

36

♕d5

♘b4

At some point Black should blockade on d7 but 36...♕d7 37 ♗g3 loses to ♕xg5 or ♖e7. Also, 36...♘xe5 37 ♖xe5 and d6-d7.

37

♕c5

♘d3

38

♕d4

♖b6

Now was the time for 38...♕d7! (but not 38...♘xe5 39 ♖xe5 ♖b7 40 ♕e4! ♖b8 41 ♕d5 and wins).

39

d7!

♖b7

40

♗c7!

♘f4+!

Hoping for 41 ♗xf4 ♖xd7 or 41 ♕xf4 ♕xd7!.

41

♔f1!

Resigns

3

Fischer’s rise occurred during a chess drought in the United States, and his first national championship tournament, at the end of 1957, was a major event. Since 1951 there had been only one U.S. Championship and one international tournament (Dallas 1957, which was deeply reduced in stature when the Soviet invitee, David Bronstein, couldn’t get visa clearance).

Sidney Bernstein – Fischer

U.S. ChampionshipNew York 1957-58Sicilian Defense, Najdorf Variation (B99)

1

e4

c5

2

♘f3

d6

3

d4

cxd4

4

♘xd4

♘f6

5

♘c3

a6

6

♗g5

e6

7

f4

♗e7

8

♕f3

♘bd7

A short time later it was discovered that 8...♕c7 9 0-0-0 ♘bd7 is the right move order because the text allows 9 ♗c4, threatening ♗xe6!.

9

0-0-0

♕c7

10

g4

b5

11

♗g2

This natural move all but disappeared from practice soon after this game.

11

...

♗b7

There was no time for 11...b4 because of 12 e5!, e.g. 12...dxe5 13 ♘dxb5 axb5 14 ♘xb5 ♕b7 15 ♕xb7, with advantage to White.

12

♖he1

b4!

A later Korchnoi game showed that 12...♘b6, safeguarding against sacrifices on d5, grants White a reasonable attack with 13 ♗xf6 ♗xf6 14 g5 ♗e7 15 h4.

13

♘d5?

Plainly more palatable than 13 ♘b1 ♕a5. Fischer had faced a similar ♘d5 sacrifice two rounds before against Bernstein’s good friend, Herbert Seidman, and drew.

13

...

exd5!

A case when it’s safer to accept a piece than a pawn: On 13...♘xd5 14 exd5 ♗xd5 White has 15 ♕xd5! exd5 16 ♖xe7+ ♔f8 17 ♗xd5 or 16...♔d8 17 ♗xd5 with a crushing attack. Black does better with 14...♗xg5 15 fxg5 0-0 but he would be worse after 16 ♕g3.

14

exd5

White’s threats are immediate (15 ♘f5) and intermediate (doubling rooks on the e-file).

14

...

♔f8!

Black prepares to demilitarize the e-file with ...♖e8 and ...♗d8. On 14...♔d8 15 ♘f5 ♖c8 16 ♕e2 or 15...♖e8? 16 ♕e3 ♘c5 17 ♘xg7 ♖g8 18 ♘f5 ♖e8 19 ♘xe7 White wins.

But 15...♗f8! was better since 16 ♕e4 ♔c8 17 ♕e8+! ♕d8 18 ♕xf7 favors White but 16...♕a5! 17 ♕e8+ (17 ♔b1 h6) ♔c7 18 ♕xf7 ♕xa2 is unclear.

15

♘f5

Nothing comes of 15 ♘c6? ♗xc6 16 dxc6 ♘c5 and ...♖e8.

15

...

♖e8

16

♕e3

Now 16...♕d8 allows White to fuel his initiative with 17 ♕d4 followed by doubling rooks or ♗h4 and g4-g5.

16

...

♗d8

17

♕d4

17

...

♗c8!

The engine of White’s attack is the f5-knight. Simply swapping pieces (17...♖xe1 18 ♖xe1 ♘c5) permits White to improve his chances considerably with 19 ♗xf6!, e.g. 19...♗xf6 20 ♕e3 ♕d7 21 g5! ♗d8 22 ♘xd6. But 18...♕a5 19 ♕d2 h6 was good.

18

♗h4

With 18 ♕xb4 White admits his initiative is dead, e.g. 18...♖xe1 19 ♖xe1 ♘c5 20 ♗xf6 ♗xf6! followed by ...♘d3+ or ...♗xf5 and wins.

Now, however, he is threatening 19 g5.

18

...

♘c5!

Also good is 18...♖xe1 19 ♖xe1 g6. Less accurate is 18...♕c5? 19 ♖xe8+ or 18...♖xe1 19 ♖xe1 ♕c5 20 ♕xc5 dxc5 21 ♘d6!.

Also tempting is 18...b3 19 axb3 ♘c5, which threatens 20...♘xb3+ as well as ...♗xf5. However, White can ignore that with 20 ♗xf6! since 20...♘xb3+ 21 ♔b1 ♘xd4 22 ♗xg7+ and a mate. He has some chances even on 20...gxf6! 21 ♖xe8+ ♔xe8 22 ♕e3+ ♔f8 23 b4.

19

♘xg7

White’s last bullet. On 19 ♗xf6 ♗xf6? 20 ♖xe8+ ♔xe8 21 ♘xg7+ he could turn the tables – but 19...gxf6! wins for Black.

19

...

♔xg7

20

g5

♗f5!

Another point of Black’s 17th move: he threatens 21...♘b3+! and mate next.

21

gxf6+

♔h6!

22

♕c4

♘d7

23

♕xc7

♗xc7

24

♗f3

♗d8!

White continued through the inertia of time pressure:

25 ♗g5+ ♔g6 26 ♖g1 ♗xf6 27 ♗h4+ ♔h6 28 ♗xf6 ♘xf6 29 ♖g5 ♗e4 30 ♖f1 ♗g6 31 ♖fg1 ♖e3 32 ♗d1 ♘e4 33 ♖5g2 f5 34 ♗e2 a5 35 h4 ♖h3 36 h5 ♗xh5 37 ♗d3 ♗g6 38 ♖f1 ♖f8 39 ♔d1 ♘f6 40 ♖e1 ♘xd5 41 ♖f2 ♖e3 42 ♖g1 ♖e7 43 ♔d2 ♔g7 44 ♖f3 (sealed) and White resigned.

4

Fischer started the 1957-8 U.S. Championship with a modest 2-1 score then went on a 8½-1½ spree that won the tournament. Some of his games were marred by shocking tactical lapses, including double-question-mark moves by both players. But his slips were offset by this game, which won the second brilliancy prize:

Fischer – James T. Sherwin

U.S. Championship, New York 1957-58Sicilian Defense, Najdorf Variation (B87)

1

e4

c5

2

♘f3

d6

3

d4

cxd4

4

♘xd4

♘f6

5

♘c3

a6

6

♗c4

e6

7

0-0

b5

8

♗b3

b4

9

♘b1!?

For a brief time in the 1950s this retreat, with ♘d2-c4 in mind, was a major alternative to 9 ♘a4, which can expose the knight to attack from ...♗d7/...♕a5.

9

...

♗d7

In his first book, Fischer said he didn’t believe Soviet analysis that claimed White had enough compensation after 9...♘xe4 10 ♕f3 ♗b7 and he gave 11 ♗a4+ ♘d7 12 ♗c6 ♗xc6 13 ♘xc6 ♕b6 14 ♕xe4 d5 as evidence. But the Russians suggested 12 ♘d2 was better, but there haven’t been enough practical tests to tell.

10

♗e3

♘c6

Taking the pawn now is too dangerous (10...♘xe4 11 ♕f3 d5 12 c4).

11

f3

♗e7?

Black misses his best equalizing chance of the opening (11...♘a5).

12

c3!

White now obtains the upper hand on the queenside (12...a5 13 ♘b5! ♕b8 14 a4).

12

...

bxc3

13

♘xc6

13

...

♗xc6

Black loses two queens in three moves after 13...cxb2? 14 ♘xd8 bxa1(♕) 15 ♗d4!.

14

♘xc3

0-0

15

♖c1

♕b8

Overlooking – or underestimating – White’s combination. Better was 15...♗b7 after which 16 ♕d3 ♖c8 17 ♖fd1 and ♘a4-b6, or the immediate 16 ♘a4, offers White a slight pull.

16

♘d5!

exd5?

Black might have tried to hold the extra pawn after 16...♗xd5 17 exd5 ♘xd5 18 ♗xd5 exd5 19 b3 ♕b5. But he apparently didn’t trust positions such as 20 ♕d2 ♖fe8 21 ♖fd1 ♗f6.

However, after the text Black has long-term problems on the light squares, as he would also have after 16...♗xd5 17 exd5 e5 18 ♖c6! ♕b5 19 ♖b6 ♕a5 20 ♖b7 or 18...a5 19 ♕e2 ♕b4 20 ♖fc1.

The same goes for 16...♘xd5 17 exd5 ♗b5?, which invites a terrific Exchange offer, 18 dxe6 ♗xf1 19 exf7+ ♔h8 20 ♕xf1 followed by ♗d5, ♖c6 and ♕c4.

17

♖xc6

dxe4

18

fxe4

If Black had counted on 18...♘xe4 when he chose his 16th move, he would have been disappointed now to see how strong 19 ♗d5 ♘f6 20 ♖b6 would be.

18

...

♕b5

19

♖b6

♕e5

20

♗d4!

♕g5

Not 20...♕xe4? 21 ♖e1.

21

♕f3?

Fischer has two flaws, Larry Evans wrote in 1963: Overconfidence “which causes him sometimes to forget that his opponents are also capable of finding good moves” and “impetuosity in winning positions.” Here he allows an excellent maneuver that nearly equalizes. With 21 ♖b7! Black’s straits are dire because 21...♘xe4 22 ♖e1 costs material (22...d5 23 ♖xe7! ♕xe7 24 ♗xd5 or 22...♖ac8 23 ♖xe4 ♖c1 24 ♖bxe7 ♖xd1+ 25 ♗xd1).

21

...

♘d7!

Now 22 ♗xf7+ ♔h8 23 ♖b7 ♘e5 is fine for Black.

22

♖b7

♘e5

23

♕e2

♗f6

Black threatens 24...♘f3+ 25 ♕xf3 ♗xd4+, with good drawing chances due to the bishops of opposite color.

24

♔h1!

Now Black’s best is 24...♕g4! and then 25 ♗c4 a5.

24

...

a5

25

♗d5

♖ac8

White had threatened 26 ♗xe5 dxe5 27 ♖xf7 or 26...♕xe5 27 ♖b5.

26

♗c3

a4

Black would love to drum up kingside play with 26...♘g4. But he has nothing to show for a pawn after 27 ♗d2 ♕h4 28 h3 ♘e5 29 ♗xa5.

27

♖a7

♘g4

28

♖xa4

Fischer took barely a minute to reject 28 ♗xf6 ♘xf6 29 ♖xa4 ♘xd5 30 exd5 ♕xd5 (31 ♖a7 ♖ce8). But 28 ♗d2 was a worthy alternative, especially since 28...♖c2? allows 29 ♖xf7! ♖xf7 30 ♕b5! and wins.

28

...

♗xc3

29

bxc3

♖xc3?

30

♖xf7!!

Why two exclamation points? Isn’t 30...♖xf7 31 ♖a8+ obvious? Yes, but White’s combination is much deeper. He saw that 30...♕xd5, which ends discovered checks and threatens 31...♖c1+, is refuted by 31 ♖xf8+ ♔xf8 32 ♕f1+! ♕f7 33 ♖a8+ ♔e7 34 ♖a7+.

30

...

♖c1+?

But White’s main point is revealed after 30...h5!, which seems to win:

(a) 31 ♖f1+ ♔h7 32 ♖xf8 ♖c1+ 33 ♖f1? ♕f4! or

(b) 31 ♕b2? ♔h7! 32 ♕xc3 ♖xf7 33 ♗xf7 ♕f4 34 ♗g8+ ♔h8! or

(c) 31 ♕f1 ♔h7! 32 ♖xf8 ♖c1 33 ♗g8+ ♔h6 34 ♗c4 ♘e3!, or

(d) 31 ♖f3+ ♔h7 32 ♖xc3 and Black passes up the 32...♘f2+ 33 ♔g1 ♘h3+ draw for 32...♕e5 or 32...♕d2! and wins.

Nevertheless, there is a likely White win in a queen-and-minor piece endgame after 31 ♖c4! ♖xc4 32 ♖xf8+ ♔xf8 33 ♕xc4.

31

♕f1!!

This retreat is the difference between winning and losing (31 ♖f1+? ♔h8 32 ♖a8? ♖xa8 33 ♗xa8 ♕f4!).

31

...

h5

Now this move lacks bite. But on 31...♖xf1+ 32 ♖xf1+ ♖f7 33 ♖a8+ Black has no luft and is mated.

32

♕xc1!

♕h4

Equally hopeless was 32...♕xc1+ 33 ♖f1+.

33

♖xf8+

♔h7

34

h3

♕g3

35

hxg4

h4

36

♗e6

Resigns

5

Fischer’s mother, Regina, drew a revealing picture of him in a letter to the Yugoslav Chess Federation in early 1958. She asked the Yugoslavs to find room and board for her 15-year-old son while he adjusted to the Balkan climate in the weeks before the Interzonal at Portorož. But she indicated Bobby had certain conditions that must be met: He would not give simultaneous exhibitions or interviews – and didn’t like journalists “who ask non-chess questions” about his private life. She volunteered to the Yugoslavs that Fischer didn’t smoke, drink or date girls and “doesn’t know how to dance.” But, she added, “He likes to swim, play tennis, ski, skate, etc.”

By the time of the Interzonal in August, Fischer had settled into other lifetime habits. Dimitrije Bjelica, a Yugoslav chess journalist who established an early rapport with the young American, recalled how Bobby would analyze in his hotel room until the early a.m., sleep until noon – and rarely leave the room except to play.

Fischer’s start at Portorož was decidedly unimpressive – a first-round draw with White in 16 moves followed by a swindle that turned a loss to the tournament tailender into a win. He had only an even score when he met Bent Larsen in round eight:

Fischer – Bent Larsen

Interzonal, Portorož 1958Sicilian Defense, Dragon Variation (B77)

1

e4

c5

2

♘f3

d6

3

d4

cxd4

4

♘xd4

♘f6

5

♘c3

g6

6

♗e3

Anti-Dragon weapons were in their infancy. One of the few books then available that considered 6 ♗e3 – Reuben Fine’s Practical Chess Openings – gave only 6...♗g7 7 f3 a6 8 ♕d2 ♘c6 9 ♘b3 h6 10 a4 ♘a5 11 ♖a3 and concluded White had the advantage because of his queenside attack(!).

6

...

♗g7

7

f3

0-0

8

♕d2

♘c6

9

♗c4

This Dragon-bashing system could be called the “Fischer Attack.” In My 60 Memorable Games Fischer said it was so simple to play that “weak players” could beat grandmasters with it.

9

...

♘xd4

Larsen adopts the ...♕a5, ...♖fc8 and ...b5 setup that remained the main line until the late 1960s.

10

♗xd4

♗e6

11

♗b3

♕a5

12

0-0-0

b5

This move was awarded an exclamation point in the tournament book by Gligorić and Matanović because the chief alternative, 12...♗xb3 13 cxb3! followed by ♔b1, leaves Black scant counterplay (13...♖fd8 14 ♔b1 ♖d7 15 g4 ♖ad8 16 ♕e2).

13

♔b1

b4

14

♘d5

♗xd5

15

♗xd5?

Fischer didn’t fully understand the finesses of this line yet. A year later Tal demonstrated White’s positional superiority after 15 exd5!, e.g. 15...♕b5 (threatening ...a5-a4) 16 ♕d3 ♕xd3 17 ♖xd3 and ♖e1.

15

...

♖ac8?

Larsen explained that he saw 15...♘xd5 16 ♗xg7 ♘c3+! 17 bxc3 ♖ab8! 18 cxb4 (or 18 c4 ♔xg7 and ...♖fc8) ♕xb4+ 19 ♕xb4 ♖xb4+ 20 ♗b2 ♖fb8. But he rejected it because 17 ♗xc3 bxc3 18 ♕xc3 ♕xc3 19 bxc3 ♖fc8 was drawish.

Fischer indicated he would have played for a win after 15...♘xd5 with 16 exd5, and if 16...♕xd5 then 17 ♕xb4.

16

♗b3!

Fischer believed the game was already won for him: Thanks to his bishop, Black’s heavy pieces can’t pierce the defenses of a2 or c2, and the ...a5-a4 plan is too slow. White has a free hand to advance his h-pawn and, he wrote, It’s “sac, sac...mate!”

16

...

♖c7

Black opts for ...a5 but the immediate 16...♕b5 allows 17 ♗xa7!.

17

h4

♕b5

More than 10 years later the Dragon began another of its revivals, thanks to the defensive resource ...h5 (that is 12...h5 after 9...♗d7 10 0-0-0 ♖c8 11 ♗b3 ♘e5 12 h4). But here the ...h5 idea fails to “sac, sac...mate!” For example, 17...h5 18 g4 hxg4 19 h5! ♘xh5 20 ♗xg7 ♔xg7 21 fxg4 ♘f6 22 ♕h6+.

18

h5!

♖fc8

White’s attack is proven faster by 18...gxh5 19 g4! hxg4 20 fxg4 ♘xe4 21 ♕h2, e.g. 21...♘g5 22 ♗xg7 ♔xg7 23 ♖d5! and wins.

19

hxg6

hxg6

It’s time to begin looking for a winning plan and there are three candidates. But the first one, 20 ♗xf6 ♗xf6 21 ♕h6, fails to 21...e6! followed by ...♕e5.

20

g4

a5

A second try – 20 g4 followed by tripling on the h-file (21 ♖h3, 22 ♖dh1 and 23 ♕h2 followed by ♖h8+) – is too slow because of 21...a4.

21

g5!

But this one works. After 21 g5 a4 White’s attack arrives one step ahead of Black’s – 22 gxf6 axb3 23 fxg7! bxc2+ 24 ♕xc2 ♖xc2 25 ♖h8 mate or 24...e5 25 ♕h2.

A better defense is 21...♘e8 22 ♗xg7 ♘xg7. But Fischer showed White is winning with 23 ♖h6! a4 24 ♕h2 ♘h5 25 ♖xg6+ or 23...e6 24 ♕h2 ♘h5 25 ♗xe6! fxe6 (25...♕xg5 26 ♖xg6+! ♕xg6 27 ♗xc8 and ♖g1) 26 ♖xg6+ ♘g7 27 ♖h1.

21

...

♘h5

Now 22 ♗xg7? ♘xg7? 23 ♖h6 transposes into the previous note. But 22...♔xg7! is hard to crack.

22

♖xh5!

gxh5

Or 22...♗xd4 23 ♕xd4 gxh5 24 g6 and White wins following 24...e6 25 ♕xd6! or in the endgame of 24...♕e5 25 gxf7+ ♔f8 (not 25...♔h7 26 ♕d3! and 27 f4 followed by discovered check) 26 ♕xe5! dxe5 27 ♖g1 e6 28 ♗xe6 ♔e7 29 ♗xc8 ♖xc8 30 ♖g5.

23

g6

e5!

This, preparing his 25th move, is the only way to place obstacles in White’s path. Black is quite lost after 23...e6 24 gxf7+ ♔xf7 25 ♗xg7 ♔xg7 26 ♖g1+ ♔h7 27 ♗xe6!.

24

gxf7+

♔f8

25

♗e3

Threatening 26 ♗h6 or 26 ♕xd6+. A pretty finish would be 25...a4 26 ♕xd6+ ♖e7 27 ♕d8+! ♖xd8 28 ♖xd8+ ♖e8 29 ♗c5+!.

25

...

d5!

Based on 26 ♗xd5 ♖xc2.

26

exd5

The d-pawn becomes a factor (26...a4 27 d6!).

26

...

♖xf7

27

d6

♖f6

White had two ways to beat 27...♖d7 (28 ♗e6 and 28 ♗h6).

28

♗g5!

♕b7

Another nice finish would have been 28...♕d7 29 ♕d5 ♖f7 30 ♗e7+!.

29

♗xf6

♗xf6

30

d7

♖d8

31

♕d6+

Resigns

The tournament book incorrectly credits Fischer with playing the faster win, 31 ♕h6+!.