May 4, 2021
Chess celebrity Bobby Fischer sits at the center of this colorized photo from 1966. The American whiz kid of the game is playing against Bent Larsen, a skilled Danish grandmaster. Hunched over this table on a sunny day, all smiles, these two players represented the world's best chance at breaking the Soviet Union's monopoly on the game. Behind Fischer, Gregor and Jacqueline Piatigorsky look on approvingly.
Chess, one of the oldest games in human history, became dominated by Russians not long after the turn of the century. While the Soviets’ love for chess dates back hundreds of years, the foundation for their nearly unimpeded rule of the 1900s was laid by Nikolay Krylenko, Vladimir Lenin’s supreme commander of the Soviet army. Thanks to his state sponsorship of the game, chess became their national pastime. Over the course of the century only two non-Russians ever truly spoiled their monopoly over the game: the legendary Bobby Fischer and Danish Grandmaster Bent Larsen.
Finding Bobby Fischer
Americans love winners and few figures exemplify that conquering ethos more than Bobby Fischer’s claim to fame. Before and after Fischer, chess garnered less attention than a doorknob in the American sports landscape. If soccer could never gain a meaningful foothold in the United States, chess stood about as much as chance as we would playing a Grandmaster. Nevertheless, Fischer turned into a true celebrity, thanks to being “chess hot” and the fact that he stuck it to the Russians during the height of the Cold War.
Brilliant But Troubled
Despite being born to a bright but technically homeless mother, Fischer immediately showed the aptitude of a genius and chess prodigy. At the age of 13, he became the youngest American Junior Champion. A year later he won the US Champion and at 15 he became the youngest Grandmaster ever, not bad for a high school dropout. Even though he once scored an IQ between 180 and 187, essentially as high as the scale goes, he showed signs of battiness long before he went off the deep end.
In the 1960’s he became involved with a religious sect called the “Worldwide Church of God.” The organization espoused many wild theories including, of course, the apocalypse. Fischer gave the group $61,000 in 1972. However, he did come to his senses when the predicted apocalypse never materialized and one of its founders was indicted on charges of sexual transgressions.
The Danish Danger
Other than Fischer, only Bent Larsen struck fear into the hearts of the Soviet Bloc’s Grandmasters. He was especially adroit at tournaments where players played a single time with little preparation. Larsen won over 25 world-class tournaments, becoming “the tournament world champion.” The Dane’s style did lose some of its potency when he entered into a series of games, which unfortunately for him, rose to prominence during his heyday. In 1971, Fischer smoked Larsen 6-0 in the semifinals the year before he became world champion.
One Of The Greatest To Never Hold The World Title
Larsen famously employed a style that eschewed draws, a common result in chess. He called Florin Gheorghiu the “most irritating” opponent he ever faced due to his penchant for offering draws before the game began. His unusual openings grew into his calling card, including the queen’s fianchetto that was dubbed the Larsen opening. As he said, “I do not deliberately play openings that are obviously bad. I emphasize the surprise element, and in some cases this makes me play a variation without being convinced it is correct.”
Game Of The Century
Undoubtedly, the most monumental matchup in chess history occurred in 1972 between Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky. The Soviets had trounced the competition for years, taking 24 consecutive World Championships. Even in the face of such one-sided domination, Fischer entered the competition as the favorite due to his decimation of the top Grandmasters over his past 20 games. The stakes were incredibly high. Adjusted for inflation, the winner would take home just shy of $500,000 and the loser a little under $300,000.
However, much more consequential were the tensions between the Soviet Union and the United States. Henry Kissenger personally called Fischer and urged him to play, seeing the possibility of victory as a huge coup in the Cold War. To prepare Fischer cloistered himself into a New York hotel, studying chess literature and Spassky’s history while listening to loud rock music. The game almost didn’t happen, thanks to a barrage of last-minute demands by Fischer that included 30% of both TV and film rights along with the gate.
Reykjavík, Iceland
The game was set in Iceland, seen as neutral territory between the warring superpowers. Fischer started terribly, losing the first of twenty-one games after refusing to play for a draw before forfeiting the second. Fischer’s forfeit stemmed from complaints of distractions due to sounds from the film and TV cameras. Fischer even tried to leave Iceland all together but members of his camp ripped out the wiring from his car and implored him to finish!
To assuage Fischer’s complaints, they continued to play in a side room devoid of cameras but monitored by video. Fischer won game three while four and five ended in draws. Fischer won a spectacular 6th game that was considered the best of the match. Spassky even publicly lauded Fischer at the game’s conclusion. By game seventeen the count was ten to seven, advantage Fischer.
Unrelenting Tension
To understand the height of the tensions, consider this. The Soviets accused the Americans of installing a special electronic device in Fischer’s chair that could jam Spassky’s brain waves at will. A thorough search was actually conducted and said brain wave device was never found. Spassky eventually conceded defeat in game 21 over the phone.
A Historic Win
The Soviets heaped the blame on Spassky, unofficially exiling him from Soviet chess. He was granted immigration to France four years later and never returned to the highest echelons of chess. Dutch Grandmaster Jan Timman categorized the win as “the story of a lonely hero who overcomes an entire empire.”
The photo at the top of this story was colorized by Olga Shirnina, aka Klimbim; you can see more of her work at her Flickr page.