Vlastimil Hort: Memories of Bobby Fischer (3)

by Vlastimil Hort
4/8/2018 – 75 years ago, March 9, 1943, Robert James Fischer was born in Chicago. He was genius and madman. In 1972 he became World Champion after winning a dramatic match against Boris Spassky in Reykjavik, and he is still considered as one of the greatest players of all time. Vlastimil Hort knew the 11th World Champion personally and shares memories of "Bobby". If you haven't already, read Part 1 and Part 2...

No other World Champion was more infamous both inside and outside the chess world than Bobby Fischer. On this DVD, a team of experts shows you the winning techniques and strategies employed by the 11th World Champion.

Grandmaster Dorian Rogozenco delves into Fischer’s openings, and retraces the development of his repertoire. What variations did Fischer play, and what sources did he use to arm himself against the best Soviet players? Mihail Marin explains Fischer’s particular style and his special strategic talent in annotated games against Spassky, Taimanov and other greats. Karsten Müller is not just a leading international endgame expert, but also a true Fischer connoisseur.

Read Part 1 and Part 2...

Colonel Ed Edmondson dies in 1982. A great loss for Robert Fischer — Ed was a close confidant. A crash. Afterwards, Bobby lives like a monk, sleeping on a mattress at his sister's place. Does he want to save the universe and mankind or does he want to flee from them?

Emanuel Lasker did not only write about chess, he also left philosophical works — which are, admittedly, not easy to digest. But from Fischer's Pasadena episode nothing tangible, logical or readable is known. Only racist statements. Did the Armstrongnism already affect his psyche much more than was thought?

His refusal to play against Karpov who had won the World Championship cycle 1972-1975 looked like giving up everything that makes the civilised world. My opinion? Against a Fischer in top form — as he was in Reykjavik — the Soviet challenger would not have had a real chance. The difference in playing strength was minimal, but the physical stamina clearly favoured the American. "I want to break his ego." Playing every game until the bitter end, no breaks, no short meaningless draws would have been Fischer's strategy for the match. How many kilos would Karpov have lost during such a match? Efim Geller, Karpov's second: "We all make mistakes, but Fischer makes the fewest of us all!"

Fischer lost his title! Though he no longer showed in public it is known that he followed the chess events with great interest. His comment about the world championship match Karpov-Kasparov, Moscow 1984, aborted after 48 games when Karpov was leading 5-3 [the match was played for six won games, draws did not count -Ed.]: "Vlasty, in a marathon this would be impossible. The referee should not intervene." Afterwards, Fischer broke with Svetozar Gligoric, the main arbiter from Yugoslavia. It is a pity, the chess world will always regret that there was no world championship match Fischer-Karpov. Of course, the American was "the culprit".

During my visit to Budapest in early September 1993 Fischer showed me his first game from the return match Fischer-Spassky, Sveti Stefan 1992.

 
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1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bb5 a6 4.Ba4 Nf6 5.0-0 Be7 6.Re1 b5 7.Bb3 d6 8.c3 0-0 9.h3 Nb8 10.d4 Nbd7 11.Nbd2 Bb7 12.Bc2 Re8 13.Nf1 13.b4 Fischer, R-Spassky,B/Reykjavik m-10/1972/ 13...Bf8 14.Ng3 g6 15.Bg5!? h6 15...Bg7 16.Qc1 c5 17.d5 Nb6 18.Bh6 Nfd7 19.b3 a5 20.a4 bxa4 21.bxa4 Ba6 Balashov,Y-Spassky,B/Tallin/1973/ 16.Bd2 Bg7 17.a4!? 17.Rc1 Spassky, B-Unzicker,W/Santa Monika/1966/ 17...c5 17...Nb6 18.axb5 axb5 19.b3 Nfd7 20.Bd3 b4 21.Rxa8 Bxa8 22.dxe5 Nxe5 23.Nxe5 dxe5 24.Qc2 bxc3 25.Bxc3 Karpov,An-Kortchnoi,V (1)/Lenigrad m/1971/ 17...exd4 18.cxd4 c5 19.d5 Nb6 20.Qc1 Kh7 21.Ba5 Nfd7= Kuczynski,R-Kveinis,A/Warszawa op/1989/ 18.d5 c4 19.b4 Nh7?! 19...cxb3 20.Bxb3 Nc5 20...Rc8 21.axb5 axb5 22.Qe2 Qb6 23.Reb1 Ra8 24.Ba4 Ba6 25.c4± 21.c4! bxc4 21...bxa4 22.Bxa4 Re7 23.Bb4 Rc8 23...Qc7 24.Bxc5 Qxc5 25.Nd2 h5 26.Nb3 Qxc4 27.Na5 Qc8 28.Nxb7 Rxb7 29.Bc6± 24.Qe2 22.Bxc4 20.Be3 h5 21.Qd2 Rf8 22.Ra3 Ndf6 22...h4 23.Nf1 f5 24.exf5 24.Bg5 Bf6 24...Nxg5 25.Qxg5 Qxg5 26.Nxg5± 25.Bh6 Bg7 26.Bxg7 Kxg7 27.exf5 gxf5 28.Ne3 f4 28...Kg6 29.Nxf5 Rxf5 30.Bxf5+ Kxf5 31.Qc2+ Kf6 32.Qxh7+- 29.Nf5+± 24...gxf5 25.Ng5 Nxg5 26.Bxg5 Bf6 27.Bh6 Bg7 28.Bxg7 Kxg7 29.f4± 23.Rea1 Qd7 23...h4? 24.Nxh4 Nxe4 25.Nxe4 Qxh4 26.Nxd6± 24.R1a2 Rfc8 25.Qc1 Bf8 26.Qa1 Qe8 27.Nf1! Be7 28.N1d2 28.N3d2!? Kg7 29.f3± 28...Kg7 29.Nb1! Nxe4! 29...Nd7 30.axb5 axb5 31.Rxa8 Rxa8 32.Rxa8 Qxa8 33.Qxa8 Bxa8 34.Na3+- 30.Bxe4 f5 30...Nf6!?∞ 31.Bc2 Bxd5 32.axb5 axb5 33.Ra7! Kf6 34.Nbd2 Rxa7 34...f4 35.Ne4+ Bxe4 36.Bxe4 Rxa7 37.Bxa7+- 35.Rxa7 Ra8 36.g4! 36.h4!? 36...hxg4 37.hxg4 Rxa7 37...fxg4 38.Nh2 38.Qxa7 f4 38...fxg4 39.Nh2 Qc8 39...Be6 40.Ne4+ Kg7 41.Nxd6+- 40.Ne4+ Ke6 41.Nxd6! Bxd6 41...Kxd6 42.Bc5+ 42.Qxh7+- 38...Bc6 39.Nh4 Bd7 40.Bh6+- 39.Bxf4! 39.Bb6 Qc8!± 39...exf4 40.Nh4! Bf7 40...Nf8 41.Qd4+ Ke6 42.Nxg6 Nxg6 43.Bf5+ Kf7 44.Bxg6+ Kxg6 45.Qxd5+- 41.Qd4+ Ke6 41...Kg5 ∆42.Qg7 Kxh4 43.Qh6+ Kxg4 44.f3+ Kg3 45.Qh2# 42.Nf5 Bf8 42...Kd7 43.Qa7+ 43.Qxf4 Kd7 43...gxf5 44.Qxf5+ Ke7 45.Qxh7+- 44.Nd4 Qe1+ 45.Kg2 Bd5+ 46.Be4 Bxe4+ 47.Nxe4 Be7 48.Nxb5 Nf8 48...d5 49.Qc7+ Ke6 50.Qc6+ Ke5 51.Ng3 Nf8 52.Nd4+- 49.Nbxd6 Ne6 50.Qe5 1–0
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WhiteEloWBlackEloBResYearECOEventRnd
Fischer,R2785Spassky,B25601–01992C95St Stefan/Belgrade m1

Even when he got older the former world champion knew how to play the Spanish. During the analyses, Fischer called his rival "my frenemy Boris".

Robert Fischer, 1992

How did this late friendship come about? After Fischer had been arrested at Tokyo airport in July 2004 Spassky gave interviews to the press and dramatically offered to share a cell with Bobby should he be sentenced. To go to jail with him. Provided Fischer had made inner and outer peace with the state of Israel I would have joined them.

A speaker of the Iceland Ministry of Foreign Affairs: "Granting Fischer Icelandic citizenship is a purely humanitarian gesture, and by no means implicates support of Fischer's political views." How many years, Robert, would you have spent in jail should the gigantic claws of the USA snatched you?" Bravo Iceland!

In April 2009, I received an invitation from the Icelandic Chess Federation. Paul Benkö, William Lombardy, Fridrik Olafsson, Lajos Portisch, and Boris Spassky also came to Laugardælir to say goodbye to the brilliant maestro and to pay him the last respect. Only Viktor Kortchnoi did not accept the invitation. He did not want to give Bobby the licence of being psychologically ill.

A small cemetery in the countryside, forgotten by civilisation. A plain chapel. Small pony's trotting on the light-green grass so typical for Iceland, just behind the gravestone. Occasionally a curious seagull appeared. The earth was still frozen and we were shivering with cold. As the youngest of the group, I was last to speak. Which was difficult for me — we all furtively wiped tears from our eyes.

The birds enjoyed the sudden rays of the sun which were breaking through the clouds and flying high in the air they smiled about our earthly problems.

The cradle, the coffee, the chessboard, and the pieces are all from solid wood.
Once upon a time, there was a Bobby Fischer…

Gellért fürdö 1993

In my pocket, I had a telephone number. And I was willing to take the risk. I mentally supported my idea by telling myself that I will treat myself to two nice days in Budapest if he does not want to and will not talk. But secretly I hope for help from Janos Rigo, a Hungarian IM, who allegedly is in direct contact with the former Champion. It is said that he does all the visits to the authorities for Bobby.

The night train from Prague to Budapest was filled to capacity. I thought back to the time in Vinkovci 1968 when I had been his driver and drove him around in my Renault 8.

The Iron Curtain was no more. In Prague and in Budapest Americans were welcome again. It was Indian summer 1993. IM Janos Rigo was very helpful but explained to me in broken German that he had to ask Fischer first. When he had an answer from Fischer he would contact me at the hotel. A few hours later: "Yes, Fischer agrees, the meeting point is the Gellért spa, tomorrow, 3 pm." I was happy about the okay and tried to get a joke in: "Gellért or Geller spa?"

Before going to Budapest I had, of course, read all kinds of reports about the dethroned champion. His psychological gaffes made me very sad. On this wonderful afternoon, my mood ranged from melancholic to sentimental.

The ticket to enter the spa was ridiculously cheap. Inside, I immediately had to get rid of all my clothes but was given a small fig leaf of linen. At any rate, I was better off than Adam in paradise. It was an imposing Roman spa — the bathers only men. Everybody was nice to each other, almost too nice, if you know what I mean.

A young man tried his luck. "Are you looking for company?" I did not bother to try explaining to him that I had not seen the man I was searching for more than 20 years. I felt visibly uncomfortable with my fig leaf in these surroundings. "Az ízlés nem vitatott – Chacun à son goût![Everyone has their taste!]. In the corner of the steam bath, I found a place to hide. The wetness, the moisture, the steam, the fog, all evoked Hitchcock's "Psycho".

Seven minutes late, just as in his tournament games, he greeted me in my corner: "Hello, Vlasty, how are you?" The sight of my hero surprised me. What had happened to his athletic body? A man weighing about 130 kilos, with a long beard, flecked with grey, and a bald spot on his head was standing before me. I only recognized him because of his eyes which were forget-me-not blue and were moving very slowly. "Really glad to see you, Robert!"

New game, new possibilities

The taxi brought me to an elegant residential area in Budapest which I did not know. I was asked to ring the bell without a name on it. My companion from the day before personally opened the door but then he quickly rushed back to his phone. He spoke English with a lot of Hungarian words. "Don´t worry, everything is O.K.", were his last words. After exchanging greetings I gave my host the Bohemian oblates I had brought with me. I was keen to see his new game which he had mentioned the day before, and I hoped he would keep his promise to show it to me.

I believe I am one of the first to whom Bobby showed his invention — the new form of chess he had created! On the first rank, the pieces were placed randomly — but with identical set-ups for Black and White. The pawns on the second or seventh rank stayed as they are — just as in traditional chess. "In some starting positions White has a bigger advantage, though", the inventor said. The rules remained the same as in a normal tournament game. I needed some time before I understood how to castle long and how to castle short in this new system.

With his new form of chess, the self-taught Fischer wanted to target theory, that much I quickly understood. For him, thinking on one's own was the most important. In the beginning, I was not particularly enthusiastic and remained honest: "For me, our traditional chess is complicated enough." An entertaining afternoon followed and I gradually enjoyed the new game. A few years later, in Mainz, at the Chess Classic, people liked what they saw. Random Chess, Chess 960 or Fischer Chess had won many, many followers and was particularly "loved" by non-theoreticians. But in Mainz, the king had always to stand between the two rooks. Because of the computer transmission of the games.

But when Fischer introduced me to his idea in Budapest the king did not need to stand between the rooks, it could be anywhere on the back rank, no matter where the rooks were standing. This leads to an astronomical increase of possible starting positions. I am sure there are mathematicians who can calculate how many.

Of course, I will never find out whether the inventor would accept the Mainzer variation. After my cautious question in Budapest: "Dear Robert, did you get the new game patented?", the addressed at any rate whipped out an elegant notebook and made a note. But did he finally act or not? An interesting question.

We played 10-minute games and as in our blitz night in the Hotel Metropol 1970 the score was clear. "It's great Robert, but I still prefer normal chess." The former world champion was not insulted but hungry. "I invite you, Vlasty, we will go to eat sushi." In our tournament game in Rovinj-Zagreb 1970 I had declined his draw offer, but I gladly accepted this invitation to dinner because it spared me from further losses in the new chess variant. "Let's go, Robert."

Sushi

Confidently, Robert James Fischer knocked on the door of a Japanese luxury restaurant that was well-known to him. The boss, a Japanese man, smartly dressed in red, opened it himself and started to beam when he saw the surprise visitors. It was still at least an hour before the restaurant officially opened. All other sushi lovers had to wait but we, as VIPs, were welcome.

"The same procedure as every week, Mister Fischer?" If it still had been possible the owner would have unrolled a red carpet. We were led to a small parlour. A waiter, who was just for us, without cease brought one dish after the other. The service was perfect. For me, it was the best sushi of my life. Bobby had a huge appetite and devoured the delicacies as if there was no tomorrow.

We drank huge quantities of Japanese wine, sake. At a certain point, our conversation came to a halt — we fell silent. To stop his antisemitic rants I asked him a question: "Robert, are you not afraid of Mossad?" He thought for a while: "Yes, I am, Vlasty."

My chess friend, Dr. Antony Saidy, might have been right: "His paranoia has worsened through the years, and he is more isolated than ever in an alien culture." [Frank Brady, Endgame, p. 274] "The bill, please." It suited me quite well that Bobby wanted to leave because I did not want to miss the night train from Budapest to Prague. After these two intensive days, I really needed a change of scene and some normalcy around me.

Beaming, the boss rushed over to us. "Mister Fischer, the same procedure as every week?" "Yes, indeed", muttered Fischer. The sum on the bill was very low. "Please, Mister Fischer, today four signatures." I was bold and also took two postcards from Budapest from my bag. Did I assume correctly that the super-sushi was paid by Fischer with autographs? The taciturn former world champion obliged both of us.

The man who brought me to the station was wearing a baseball cap. Just before the train departed we exchanged telephone numbers. The train was again filled to capacity. There were no seats available and I had to stand throughout the night. Bleak thoughts haunted me while the wheels were rattling on the tracks that led to Prague.

My conclusion — I met a mentally ill man in Budapest. Genius and madness are — and might always be — close, unfortunately.

Translation from German: Johannes Fischer

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Vlastimil Hort was born January 12, 1944, in Kladno, Czechoslovakia. In the 1970s he was one of the world's best players and a World Championship candidate. In 1979 he moved to West Germany where he still lives. Hort is an excellent blindfold player, a prolific author and a popular chess commentator.

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