Crazed Genius
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4 August 2004
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Remembering Why Bobby Fischer Mattered
Bobby Fischer has applied for political asylum in Japan to avoid extradition to the US, where he faces charges of breaking the sanctions against Yugoslavia by playing chess for money against his archrival Boris Spassky. He is undoubtedly a nut and always has been. His statements about the world, from his
anti-Semitism despite having a Jewish mother to his approval of the 9/11 attacks, suggest a man whose
paranoia is getting the best of him. And back in 1972, he was just as imbalanced. No one cared, then,
because he was the greatest chess player of his generation -- he was clinical, ruthless, and nothing short of
brilliant.
In Reykjavik, Iceland, where he played Mr. Spassky for the World Championship, Mr. Fischer ranted and
raved about everything down to the exact color of the squares on the chess board. Indeed, he stayed in his
room and forfeited the second game because of TV cameras (yes, the match was so intensely
important during the Cold War that it was televised). Down 2-0, Mr. Fischer appeared to have let Mr.
Spassky keep the title by default. The match was 24 games, and in the event of a 12-12 tie, the Soviet
champion would retain the title. Instead, Mr. Fischer took the title 12.5 to 8.5 after spotting Mr. Spassky 2 points.
More than winning the world title, which is an accomplishment in any field of endeavor, Mr. Fischer achieved
something much more significant. On the ELO rating system of chess players, he scored an unheard of 2780,
a figure that was not eclipsed for 20 years when a kid named Kasparov passed it. Baseball fans can argue
whether over which hitter was the greatest, but chess fans actually have some basis of comparison across
the years. Mr. Fischer set a mark that lasted two decades as the greatest player ever.
He lost the title when he failed to defend it against Anatoly Karpov in 1975. The World Chess Federation
[FIDE in its French acronym] refused to change some of its rules on how the match would be won, and Mr.
Fischer refused to play. Since then, he has played little, except for the rematch against Mr. Spassky in
Yugoslavia in 1992.
Whatever happens to him, he will always be something of a raving pain in the backside. And it would be foolish to
think that he's like to change his anti-social and eccentric ways at the age of 61. So, it might be best merely to
focus on why he ever mattered. At one time, he was the greatest the world had ever seen.
© Copyright 2004 by
The Kensington Review, J. Myhre, Editor. No part of this publication may be reproduced without
written consent.
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