Monday, Jul. 17, 1972
Hot War in Iceland
"If he doesn't come," said World Chess Champion Boris Spassky of the Soviet Union, "then we will all go home. It's as simple as that." But nothing is ever simple when U.S. Grand Master Bobby Fischer is involved. After winning the right to play Spassky for the world title in Reykjavik, Iceland, the Brooklyn bad boy played a defiant gambit that threatened to stalemate the "Match of the Century." Not satisfied with a record $125,000 purse (previous record: $12,000) and a 30% share of TV and film rights, Fischer at the last minute demanded a 30% cut of the gate receipts. While Boris waited in Reykjavik, Bobby went into hiding in New York City and played a waiting game. The U.S.S.R. Chess Federation denounced his sulking as "blackmail" and "a crying violation of the rules without parallel in the history of any sports competition."
One theory was that Fischer was waging a "war of nerves." If so, the tension finally got to British Investment Banker James Slater, a millionaire chess buff. In an extraordinary move of his own, Slater doubled the purse with a gift of $125,000. "Fischer has said that money is the problem," he declared. "Well, here it is. My message to Fischer is: 'Come on out, chicken.' " Fischer came out instantly. Saying that the offer was "incredible, generous and brave" and "I gotta accept," he caught a jet to Reykjavik and arrived just five hours before the noon deadline set by the Federation Internationale des Echecs (F.I.D.E.), the governing body of world chess.
Fischer's belated arrival only served to heat up the cold war in Iceland. While Bobby slept, his second went in his stead to the noon meeting to determine who would have the first move in the best-of-24-game match. Spassky appeared but instead of drawing lots he stalked out of the room without explanations. Later he declared that he was "insulted" by his opponent's delaying tactics, that Fischer had "jeopardized his moral right to play" and must suffer some "just punishment before there is a hope of holding the match." Spassky, who maintained a cool, detached air throughout most of the negotiations, said: "I am the world champion. Now it is I who shall determine when or whether the match shall begin." Moaned F.I.D.E. President Max Euwe: "I don't understand it myself. When Spassky is here, Fischer doesn't come. As soon as Fischer comes, Spassky runs away."
At a press conference the next day, Spassky's second spelled out the "just punishment" by making three demands: 1) a written apology from Fischer, 2) a condemnation of Fischer's behavior by Euwe, and 3) an apology from Euwe for granting Fischer a two-day postponement in violation of F.I.D.E. rules. Euwe, 71, a courtly former world champion (1935-37) from The Netherlands, immediately took the microphone and said: "Of course I condemn Mr. Fischer's behavior. Is there anybody in this room who does not?" Claiming that "Fischer lives in another world," Euwe admitted that he had violated the rules because "if I had not, there would be no match."
Apology. All that remained was the apology from Fischer, a humbling gesture that few thought the cocky, headstrong challenger would make. Surprisingly, Fischer stayed up half the night drafting the demanded letter with the help of his lawyer. Then, according to one of Fischer's friends, Bobby and the lawyer went to Spassky's hotel in the wee hours to deliver the message. Spassky was asleep. Undaunted, the Americans persuaded a bellboy to open the door to Spassky's room and they tiptoed in, placed the letter on the desk and tiptoed out. In the letter, released later that day, Fischer offered Spassky "my sincerest apology" for "offending you and your country, the Soviet Union, where chess has a prestigious position. I simply became carried away by my petty dispute over money with the Icelandic chess organization. I know you to be a sportsman and a gentleman, and I am looking forward to some exciting chess games with you."
Mollified if not amazed, Spassky agreed to go ahead with the match. Late last week the champion and the challenger met to decide who would begin play with the white pieces, which have the first move. Upon seeing Fischer, Spassky warmly grasped him with both hands. Then, in a time-honored ritual, the champion put a white pawn in one hand and a black pawn in the other, juggled them behind his back and then extended his closed fists toward Fischer. Hunching over, Bobby pointed to Boris' right hand. Smiling, the champion opened his hand to show that the challenger had chosen black. Spassky may need every advantage when the match begins this week. A poll of one group of grand masters showed that 14% saw the match as even, 22% favored Spassky, and 64% felt Fischer would be the next world champion.
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