Fischer y Benko se pelean El incidente de Curazao 1962 por Manuel Lpez Michelone Bobby Fischer y Paul Benko Mxico,

D.F., 15 de marzo (apro).- Robert J. Fischer es uno de los talentos ms extraordinarios del ajedrez. Fue, en su tiempo, el gran maestro ms joven de la historia y lleg a derrocar a los amos del deporte ciencia, los rusos, quitndole el cetro mundial a Boris Spassky. Sin embargo, esto no lo hizo de la noche a la maana. Pasaron alrededor de 17 aos, en una carrera meterica, para que Fischer finalmente lograra su sueo de ser campen del mundo. De ah en adelante (1972) Fischer abandon literalmente el ajedrez y se sabe poco de l. He aqu una ancdota que ocurri en 1962, en donde se jugaba el torneo de candidatos, el territorio holands de Curazao, el cual, aparentemente, tuvo un efecto profundo en el estadunidense Bobby Fischer, el cual llegara a ser campen del mundo diez aos despus. En dicho torneo Fischer lleg lleno de optimismo, pero se fue decepcionado y cnicamente abandon el torneo acusando a los rusos de hacer trampas. El contingente estadunidense, estaba constituido en esas fechas por Fischer, desde luego, Pal Benko y Arthur Bisguier, el cual era el segundo de Fischer, pero que le serva igualmente de ayudante a Benko. Despus de la quinta ronda de la primera vuelta (eran cuatro partidas en un torneo de todos contra todos), ambos, Fischer y Benko tenan partidas suspendidas. Fischer demand la asistencia de Bisguier. Benko, por su parte, que haba tenido un arranque ms favorable que el de su compatriota, quera tambin la ayuda del analista Bisguier. Benko tena una preocupante posicin suspendida con el gran Petrosian. Hubo entonces una discusin airada, en voz alta, en donde aparentemente Benko perdi, incluso, la compostura... Al da siguiente, Fischer escribi la siguiente carta a la organizacin del torneo: Esta es una protesta oficial sobre el comportamiento de Pal Benko. La noche del 9 de mayo, un poco antes de la media noche, Benko entr en mi habitacin sin mi permiso. l haba seguido a Bisguier hasta aqu. Le ped que abandonara mi cuarto inmediatamente, cuestin que rechaz. Es ms, se enoj cuando me negu a permitirle a mi segundo, Athur Bisguier, que lo ayudara en su encuentro suspendido con Petrosian. Me insult y cuando le contest me abofete mientras yo estaba sentado en una silla. No le regres el golpe. Finalmente Benko abandon el cuarto. Sugiero que se multe o se le saque del torneo a Benko de inmediato. Bisguier fue testigo de todo el incidente. El original de esta carta, manuscrita por Fischer mismo, se encuentra en la coleccin Russell, un coleccionista de toda la parafernalia ajedrecstica.

Muchos aos despus, Russell le pregunt a Bisguier si poda dar ms luz sobre dicho incidente. He aqu el comentario que escribiera Bisguier (tambin est el original en la coleccin Russell): Yo era el segundo de Fischer en Curazao. Aunque expres de antemano mi intencin de ayudar a Benko en sus labores de anlisis. Fischer insisti que cada jugador debera tener su analista de tiempo completo, pues este era un torneo individual y no uno por equipos e incluso Benko era otro oponente potencial en el torneo. Curazao era costoso. No haba fondos suficientes para dar soporte a dos analistas diferentes y adems, Fischer era el favorito del torneo, mientras que Benko era el caballo negro. An as, se entenda tcitamente que si haba tiempo suficiente y Fischer no requera de mis servicios, podra asistir a Benko o analizar con l si eso no trabajaba contra Fischer directamente. El incidente en cuestin ocurri despus de la quinta ronda de la primera vuelta. Fischer tuvo problemas con su llegada en avin, y lleg tarde, empezando con 1.5 puntos de sus cinco primeros juegos. Haba perdido una complicada partida contra Korchnoi y se senta muy frustrado. Mientras, Benko haba empezado sorprendentemente bien. Usando su arma secreta 1. g3, haba derrotado a Fischer y a Tahl, perdido con Filip y tablas con Korchnoi. Ahora enfrentaba a Petrosian en una posicin que a la postre terminara en tablas. Mientras Fischer cenaba, y yo intentaba calmarlo por su mal resultado, Benko toc la puerta. Era obvio que buscaba ayuda para analizar su posicin con el ruso. Intent alertarlo y le dije que estara con l cuando acabara con Bobby. Fischer entonces pregunt a Benko que qu quera y le orden que saliera de su cuarto, prohibindole ayudarle. Benko llam egosta a Fischer entre otras cosas. Benko le hizo incluso algunos gestos amenazantes hasta que finalmente se retir del cuarto. Fischer insisti que no deba ayudar a Benko y que pedira que el jugador ofensor fuera expulsado del torneo. Han pasado muchos aos desde ese incidente, en donde no queda claro si Benko abofete a Bobby o fue sta una exageracin del excampen mundial. Lo que es claro es que ahora Fischer y Benko son buenos amigos, y se ven regularmente cuando Benko va a Hungra (donde Fischer vive)... Pero hubo una vez...

"El ajedrez es la vida" Fischer

Jacinto Benavente: El ajedrez, interesantsimo; es juego de dioses: manejar a nuestro antojo un mundo en pequeo con todas sus figuras! Quin sabe si el mundo no ser en resumidas cuentas ms que eso, un gran tablero de ajedrez al que unos seres superiores juegan con nosotros como nosotros jugamos con las figuras del ajedrez.

Bobby had always slept in the same bedroom as far back as he could remember. His sister slept in the room next to his. Her room was at the top of the stairs on the right. Her window faced the street. Bobbys'' room was opposite to hers, next to the bathroom. He was ten, she was fourteen, and they were going to switch rooms. Bobbys' mother explained to him that his sister was at the age that demanded a little more privacy than a boy required. She needed a room whose window didn't overlook the front yard. What his sister wanted, his sister got. Bobby didn't care. The two rooms were about the same size. Besides, what good would it do to complain. He'd simply get punished and have to switch anyway. He quickly agreed and began to move his things out of his room. It didn't take as long as he had anticipated. Other than his clothes, toys, and baseball card collections, what else was there? His sister, on the other hand, immediately found that not everything that she owned was going to fit in her new closet. It was slightly smaller than her old one. Of course, that meant that a few of her precious items would be left behind to clutter his new closet. It wasn't really all that much. A doll house that she hadn't used in years, a bizarre, two foot tall doll that was dressed in farmers coveralls, and an old Easy Bake Oven that had its cord missing. Bobby couldn't understand why she had saved all of this junk, but it didn't matter. It was going to stay. Mom said it was to remain in his closet and that was that. Sister always got her way. Bobby finally got all of his stuff put away and had rearranged his furniture for the last time. He was tired. He couldn't close the closet door all of the way because of her things. But it didn't matter. He knew that there was nothing that he could do about it. It was late. He was tired. He donned his pajamas and crawled under his covers. The lights from the street lamp out front would take some getting used to. Its beam forced eerie shadows on both the door to his new room and his partially open closet door. He pulled the sheets over his head to block out the distraction of the light. Soon he was sound asleep. "Bobby" whispered a voice. Bobby stirred. "Bobby" Bobby opened a tired eye and listened with a sleepy ear. "Bobby" Bobby sat up in his bed and tried to focus in the direction of the voice. He saw nothing. He shook his head and punched at his pillow. "Bobby...over here."

Bobby jerked his head toward the voice. It was coming from the closet. He shivered. He turned on his lamp that sat on the bedside table. The darkness of the room vanished with a click. Bobby slowly walked to the hinged side of the closet door. His heart was pounding like it had never pounded before. Adrenaline was pumping. Bobby felt very light headed as he lightly touched the doorknob of the closet door. He tightened his grip on the knob, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and flew open the door. In Bobbys' mind he imagined demons and goblins and maniac circus midgets with tiny, bloody axes. All waiting behind his closet door. He opened his eyes. His face was flush and covered with sweat. He was saturated with fear. He reached into the closet to pull the string that hung from the overhead light. He gave it a quick tug. The entire closet was immediately flooded with illumination. He jumped back. Nothing out of the ordinary. His clothes were hung just as he had left them. His shoes were right where he had put them. The dollhouse, doll, and oven were still intact. "Bobby" The doll. It couldn't be! Bobby slammed the door to the closet. He pushed his chest of drawers in front of it. He ran downstairs. Bobby sat on the couch and shivered. "It couldn't be!" he thought to himself over and over again. Bobby didn't move from his seat on the couch for the entire night. "It couldn't be!" Morning was a long time coming for Bobby. But it finally came to Bobbys' delight. He tiptoed up the stairs to his new room hoping to keep from waking his parents. That's all he needed was to upset them. He entered his room cautiously and saw that furniture was still in front of the closet door. He pulled it away slowly. His shaking hand grasped the knob and opened the door. Nothing had changed. Everything was as it was. He squatted down on his hands and knees and gave the two foot doll a thorough inspection. Nothing. Nothing seemed odd. He gave it a hard thump on the head just as his dad had always done to him. He laughed hysterically. It was a dream. It was just a bad dream. He sighed in relief. "Bobby." Bobby turned his head in horror. The doll. "Bobby." Its lips had moved. Bobby had seen it. "Wh what ddo you wwwant?" Bobby quivered. "Bobby... I want to be like you." "Like mmme?" Bobby stuttered. "Just for a day or two. I want to be you." "You mean switch places?"

"Yes, Bobby. Only you can do it. Just for a day or so." Bobby began to calm down, although he didn't know why. He thought for a moment. "Just for a day or two?" "Just for a day or two. I've got to know what it's like. All you have to do is close your eyes, move your head up and down like you're saying yes, and wish for it." Bobby wondered what it would be like to be a doll for a day or two. He pondered the idea. He closed his eyes and wondered. "Please Bobby. Just for a day." Bobby shook his head 'yes' and wished for it. Suddenly he found himself in the closet looking out. Such a strange feeling. The doll, now a boy, looked just like Bobby. He had done it. He had really done it. The new boy stretched his arms and snickered. "It's great to be alive!" the new boy shouted as he bent his knees and rolled his head in circles. "I'll never switch back!" he sneered at Bobby. "You stupid kid." A tear welled up in Bobbys' glass eyes. The new boy pushed the closet door closed as far as it would go and shoved the chest of drawers in front of it. Opening he drawers he found some clothes and began to dress. "Bobby!" It was Bobbys' mother. Her voice was angry. "Bobby! Get down here right this minute!" She was screaming like a banshee. The new kid clambered down the stairs to the awaiting mother. "Bobby! You didn't do anything that your father told you to do! You're lazy!" She backhanded him hard across the face. Blood trickled down his chin from the fresh cut in his lip. He gagged at his first taste of blood. He cringed at the first feel of pain. "Your father will take care of you. You're so useless!" His eyes swelled with tears as they began to flow. "Stop that crying you little baby or I'll give you something to cry about." She slapped him again forming a new cut on his lip. Bobbys' father came in from the garage. "What has that little thug done now?" he grumbled.

"He didn't do a thing that he was told to do yesterday. You handle it. I'm sick of that little brat." The father unbuckled his belt and whipped it from out of the loops in one quick swooping motion. He was very good at this. He had lots of practice. "When" he whipped his legs. "Are" he whipped his buttocks. "You" he whipped his back. "Going to learn?" he whipped his back again Welts and cuts appeared all over the boys body. "Go to your room. No lunch or dinner for you." As he staggered off the father slung the belt across his back one last time before he struggled up the stairs towards the room. The new boy limped and whimpered up the steps. His body was swelling fast. His lip was fat, seething with pain and drenched with blood. Once within the confines of Bobbys' room he quickly pushed the chest of drawers away from the closet door. He dropped to his knees, sobbing loudly. "Shutup!" a scream came from downstairs. "I don't want to hear another damn sound!" "Bobby!" the new boy whispered and shook the doll. "We've got to switch back. I'm no good at being a boy. I don't know how to act." The doll didn't react. "Bobby! the new boy shook the doll. "I didn't really mean when I said I'd never switch back." "Don't make me come up there!" came a masculine voice from the foot of the stairs. "Look. All you have to do is wish for it while I close my eyes and you shake your head 'yes'. Are you ready Bobby? Are you ready?" He shook the Bobby doll again and again. Loud footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The Bobby doll looked at the new boy with a huge grin on his painted face as his head slowly-- oh so slowly nodded 'NO'.

The Amazing Bobby Fischer

It does not take a chessplayer to realize that Bobby Fischer is an absolutely amazing man. Aside from his numerous chess accomplishments, he has an astronomical I.Q. with an exceptional memory; in the world of chess, no player has ever proved to be as devoted as Bobby Fischer. Fischer is "generally acknowledged as the greatest chessplayer of all time" (Pandolfini 1). Robert James Fischer was born in Chicago, Illinois, on March 9, 1943. His parents were divorced in 1945, and his mother moved him and his sister to Brooklyn a year or so later. "At the age of six he acquired a chess set and soon became deeply absorbed in the game" (Hooper and Whyld 115). This was the beginning of a legend. Bobby Fischer had many incredible chess accomplishments. At age twelve, Fischer began to visit the great Manhattan Chess Club ,which had the best players in the country, and "even then hardly anybody could beat him" (Schonberg 258). At age thirteen, Fischer beat International Master, Donald Byrne, in what was generally acknowledged as the "game of the century." "The winning moves were perhaps the most insightful ever played by a youngster" (Pandolfini 2). In 1957, at age fourteen, he won the U.S. Junior Championship, which was a nice accomplishment for a young man of his age. However, that same year he won the U.S. Senior Championship overtaking the renowned Samuel Reshevsky, which was an amazing accomplishment for a man of any age. Fischer became the youngest grandmaster in the history of chess at age fifteen. "At 16 he was able to earn his living from chess" (Hooper 115), and he added status to any tournament he attended. Now the only steps left were to win the Candidates Matches and then the World Championship Match. In 1971, step one was completed with superior dominance, leaving only the World Championship Match. In 1972, Fischer domineered Borris Spassky to become the World Champion. Contributing to Bobby Fischer's numerous chess accomplishments, was his high I.Q. and enormous memory. "There is probably no other topic that intrigues chessplayers as much as the inner machinations of the mind of Bobby Fischer" (Brady V). Chessplayers universally feel that they can improve their own game by understanding how Fischer's mind operates, but it does not take a chess player to realize that Fischer has enormous mental capabilities. A political scientist, at Fischer's high school in Brooklyn, had an opportunity to study Fischer's personal records. He was amazed to see that Fischer's I.Q. was in the range of 180, a very high genius. In addition, Fischer has an incredibly retentive memory. On one occasion, right before the World Championship Match in Reykjavik, Fischer toured Iceland for a few days. One morning he called Frederick Olaffson, who was Iceland's only grandmaster. Olaffson's Icelandic speaking daughter answered the phone and Fischer said, "Mr Olaffson, please." The girl explained that her father and mother were out of the house and would not return until dinner. Fischer did not know one word of Icelandic and he did not understand the little girl. Fischer had to hang up with an apology. Later that day Fischer met up with another Icelandic chess player that spoke English. After explaining what had happened, Fischer "then repeated every Icelandic word he had heard over the telephone, imitating the sounds with perfect inflection, so well, as a matter of fact, that

the Icelander translated the message word for word" (Brady vii). Another amazing example of his the mental capacity was witnessed by Frank Brady: In 1963 Fischer played in and won the New York State Open Championship at Poughkeepsie, New York. During the last round I was involved in a complicated ending with Frank S. Meyer . . . Fischer, on his way to the washroom, briefly paused at my board -for perhaps five seconds- and then walked on. A few months later, he visited me at my office . . . "How did that last round game turn out?" he inquired. I told him I had won, but with difficulty. "Did you play Q-B5?" he asked. I told him quite frankly I couldn't remember what I had played. He immediately set up the exact position to "help" me remember, and then demonstrated the variation I should have played to have secured a much more economical win. The main point is . . . he remembered not only the position but also his fleeting analysis as he had passed my board months previously. (VII) "It is said that he has never forgotten a game he has played or an analysis he has read" (Schonberg 264). Fischer can also remember most of his speed games, in which both players are limited to five minutes to make all of their moves. After the World Speed Chess championship at Hercegnovi, Yugoslavia, in 1970, "Fischer rattled off the scores of all his twenty-two games, involving more than 1,000 moves, from memory!" (Brady VIII). Not only does he remember speed chess directly after a match, he has also been known to remember for years. "Fischer met the Russian Player Vasiukov and showed him a speed game that the two had played in Moscow fifteen years before. Fischer recalled the game move by move" (Brady VII). It is plain to see that these qualities were instrumental in producing the chess accomplishments of Bobby Fischer, but his I.Q. and memory capacity could have gone nowhere without one final quality. Bobby Fischer had an overwhelming desire to win. One of his teachers remarked about his abnormal competitive urge. "No matter what he played, whether it was baseball in the yard or tennis, he had to come out ahead of everybody. If he had been born next to a swimming pool he would have been a swimming champion. It just turned out to be chess." (Schonberg 261) "The boy, of a poor family and without any friends, had an overwhelming urge to win, to dominate, and chess became his outlet" (Schonberg 261). Fischer was a monomaniac, he had an obsession with one idea and that was to be the "Best Chessplayer of All time." People who were around Fischer would say that he studies chess day and night, and that they have never seen him do anything but chess. Fischer was totally dedicated to chess and had no room for girls or friends. The only people he saw socially were chessplayers. "Regarded as anti-social, resentful of all authority, he increasingly became alienated from his fellow men" (Hooper 115). Fischer satisfied his emotional life through the losses of his opponents, and that was why it was so important to win. After Fischer took the World Championship title from Spassky, Spassky later commented "Fischer has a burning desire to win every game." Bobby Fischer's chess career was full of accomplishments that earned his peer-.given title "The Best Chessplayer of All Time." His I.Q. and memory were essential to his success, and without his total devotion, he would have never became legend.

Bobby Fischer - Anything to win!

Anonymous said...

A great chess player. An unfortunate ending.

The Devil said...

Indeed.
Lucymarie said...

Paul Charles Morphy, Harry Nelson Pillsbury, and Robert James Fischer had lots in common. Born and raised in America, 3 of the greatest chess geniuses of all time from any country, loners, mavericks, they all self-destructed. So while most folks emphasize Fischer's oddness and abnormality, let's see how typical Fischer was. Fischer is typical of an American genius who excels in a competitive, intellectual field. America, the most individualistic country in the world, and in many respects anti-intellectual, has not historically supported its intellectual mavericks. American geniuses like Fischer, Morphy, and Pillsbury grew up isolated from their peers, received little or no institutional support. This is in strong contrast to the historical support given to European chess geniuses, and during Fischer's rise, to Soviet chess stars in particular. They had a giant state apparatus to support them, and Fischer had none of that. But Fischer did conquer the Soviets and won the world championship; Morphy went to Europe and conquered the world's best (Staunton chickened out); Pillsbury in his early 20s beat all of the world's greatest chess players at the 1895 Hastings Tournament, including Lasker and Steinitz. He had an even record against Lasker. He self-destructed, getting syphilis, and tried to commit suicide in his mid-30s shortly before his death in a mental institution. Morphy retired to his native New Orleans, suffered severe depression, never reentered the world of chess. America does not suffer mavericks very well in ANY field, even in one where the government is dependent on them. Take astronauts. The early flyboy astronauts who came from the various military services were all mavericks, some more so than others. Even John Glenn. But did the most talented flyboy of all, who dearly wanted to become an astronaut, get a chance in America to become an astronaut? Nope. Chuck Yeager never got the chance: the bureacrats gave him the thumbs-down sign. If a young American excels in a competitive intellectual pursuit, it has always been DESPITE the institutions, although there have been isolated individuals who did support them. Is it any wonder that after all the enormous energy that these 3 great loners expended, without hardly any support from domestic institutions, and in the anti-intellectual environment of America, triumphing, after years of effort, against the greatest odds, that once they reach their goal, that they then self-destruct? It would be surprising if they didn't. If you grew up in 1950s America, you will probably understand all of this.

Me & Bobby Fischer

A documentary about Bobby Fischers last years as his old friend Saemundur Palsson gets him out of jail in Japan and helps him settle in Iceland. A ringing telephone awakes S?mi in the middle of the night. He receives emergency call from an old friend, Bobby Fischer, who called collect from a public phone in prison in Japan. S?mundur did not hesitate one moment this man must be rescued. It does not matter if he has not met his friend for three decades and only heard his voice over phone just few times all this time. His friend was in trouble and S?mi is a friend indeed. Bobby Fischer became world champion in chess in Reykjav?k in 1972, the first of which Americans had and thereby defeating the virtually indestructible Soviet chess machine that was dominating the chess sport.. The Cold War was at it?s peak and Bobby became national hero in the United States. The same year S?mi and Bobby became friends in Reykjv?k. In this documentary viewers get to know S?mi rock?s struggle for the liberation of Bobby from prison in Japan and how he managed to provide his friend Icelandic citizenship. In the movie are individual interviews with Bobby Fischer after he settled in Iceland. I recently watched this Me & Bobby Fischer film by Fridrik Gudmundsson. Even though I knew Bobby well, there were plenty of things I did not know until I watched this video, especially the last few years of his life. There are many never seen before footage. It is a fascinating movie, especially if you are a Bobby Fischer fan. From the scale of 1-5, I give it a solid 4.