In 'TIME' magazine's Year in Review issue, GM Garry Kasparov pays a terrific tribute to the late GM Bobby Fischer, who died in January of this year.
I hope the mandarins of 'TIME' won't come after me for posting this here. It's on page 121, in case you want to buy your own copy as a keepsake memento.
"It was Bobby Fischer's attitude on and off the chess board that infused his play with unrivaled power. Before Fischer, no one was ready to fight to the death in every game. No one was willing to work around the clock to push chess to a new level. But Fischer was, and he became the detonator of an avalanche of new chess ideas, a revolutionary whose revolution is still in progress. By World War II, the once strong U.S. chess tradition had largely failed. So for an American player to reach world-championship level in the 1950s required an obsessive degree of personal dedication. Fischer's triumph over the Soviet chess machine, culminating in his 1972 victory over Boris Spassky in Reykjavik, Iceland, demanded even more. He declined to defend his title in 1975, and by forfeit, it passed back into the embrace of the Soviets. According to all accounts, Fischer had descended into isolation and anger. Much has been written about his subsequent disappearance and apparent mental instability. Some are quick to put the blame on chess itself, which would be a foolish blunder. Pushing too hard in any endeavor brings great risks."
:) :) :)
I've written it before, and I'm writing it again: In my opinion, Fischer's ascent to the World Championship with his otherworldly surge from 1970 to 1972 is the greatest achievement in the history of competitive sports.
Rest In Peace, Bobby. Your feats will live forever.
I hope the mandarins of 'TIME' won't come after me for posting this here. It's on page 121, in case you want to buy your own copy as a keepsake memento.
"It was Bobby Fischer's attitude on and off the chess board that infused his play with unrivaled power. Before Fischer, no one was ready to fight to the death in every game. No one was willing to work around the clock to push chess to a new level. But Fischer was, and he became the detonator of an avalanche of new chess ideas, a revolutionary whose revolution is still in progress. By World War II, the once strong U.S. chess tradition had largely failed. So for an American player to reach world-championship level in the 1950s required an obsessive degree of personal dedication. Fischer's triumph over the Soviet chess machine, culminating in his 1972 victory over Boris Spassky in Reykjavik, Iceland, demanded even more. He declined to defend his title in 1975, and by forfeit, it passed back into the embrace of the Soviets. According to all accounts, Fischer had descended into isolation and anger. Much has been written about his subsequent disappearance and apparent mental instability. Some are quick to put the blame on chess itself, which would be a foolish blunder. Pushing too hard in any endeavor brings great risks."
:) :) :)
I've written it before, and I'm writing it again: In my opinion, Fischer's ascent to the World Championship with his otherworldly surge from 1970 to 1972 is the greatest achievement in the history of competitive sports.
Rest In Peace, Bobby. Your feats will live forever.
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