World Chess Title CHALLENGERS BEGIN SEMI-FINAL GAMES

Press, Volume CVIII, Issue 31727, 10 July 1968, Page 8

World Chess Title CHALLENGERS BEGIN SEMI-FINAL GAMES

(By

FIANCHETTO)

The three*year programme of elimination tournaments and matches to find a challenger for the world chess championship is nearing its final stages, the vast field of grandmasters, international masters, national masters —and just chess players—from all quarters of the globe now reduced to an eminent four.

They are B. Spassky (Russia), the unsuccessful challenger for T. Petrosyan’s title in 1966; M. Tai (Russia), world champion in 1951-52; B. Larsen (Denmark), and V. Korchnoy, three times champion of his country but never before a “candidate”—that is, a competitor in the final elimination tournament—for the highest chess honour of all. In the semi-finals of the candidates’ tournament Spassky meets Larsen and Tai plays Korchnoy. The final will be played before the end of the year, and the gruelling best-of-24-

game challenge match for the championship is likely to be played in March and April or April and May of next year. Fischer And Stein Out To most chess enthusiasts the great disappointment of the present elimination series is the absence of the gifted young American, R. Fischer, who withdrew from the interzonal tournament at Sousse, Tunisia, after a series of disputes with the controlling committee. Fischer objected to arrangements which required his playing on successive days in return for his being “excused duty” on his Sabbath—a normal playing day for the other contestants. The sad thing was that he could have afforded to default a few games—if he had wanted extra rest days of his own choosing—without endangering his prospects of qualifying among the top six players for the candidates’ tournament.

Fischer was not the only unexpected casualty in the inter-zonal. L. Stein, the then Russian champion and a man believed to be on the threshold of greater triumphs, could do no better than finish sixth equal with the veteran American, S. Reshevsky, and the rising young Czechoslovak star, V. Hort. In the play-off of 12 games, four between each of the pairs, all but two ?ames were drawn, Stein and Hort each indicted one defeat on the other, and Reshevsky was awarded last place in the candidates’ tournament on a count-back to the results among the three in the interzonal. If Fischer went out with a bang, it might be said that Stein went out with a whimper. The Narrowing Gap

Not the least interesting feature of the tournament at Sousse was the evidence of a further closing of the gap between the standard of Russian chess and -the chess of the rest of the world. For the first time there was no limit to the number of players who might qualify from any one country for the candidates’ tournament. Poor Stein, twice previously excluded by this harsh rule, this time could not find a place in the top six—or

seven, if Fischer could be counted as a certain qualifier. As A. Gipslis also failed, Russia could claim only two of the six qualifying places; but of course the undoubted “strength in depth” of Russian chess is shown more clearly in the results of the candidates’ tournament, for which Spassky and Tai qualified automatically as the winner and runner-up respectively in the candidates' tournament of 1965. The first round of the candidates' tournament went according to expectations, although not without some flutters of excitement. Larsen, the winner of the interzonal—as he was in 1965 was extended to the very last of the 10 scheduled games by L. Portisch (Hungary). It

was a battle of contrasting styles—Larsen the romantic devil-may-care, Portisch as solid as granite, as one commentator described him. In the final game it was Portisch’s nerve that cracked, probably because Larsen really does attach as little importance to results as his venturesome and speculative style of play suggests. He is a more mature player than when he lost narrowly to Tai three years ago; and his record in tournament play stands comparison with the best. Return To Form Spassky has had his ups and downs since losing to Petrosyan in the grimlyfought world title match two years ago. For a while he unleashed in a series of topclass tournaments all the diverse and incisive skills that had deserted him when he needed them most; for a while he seemed to merit the title of uncrowned king of the chess world. Then reaction set in. For a long period he seemed content to coast Mong, seldom far from the top of a tournament table, seldom heading one. Consequently, his opponent in the first round of the candidates’ tournament, Y. Geller, a leading Russian player seemingly reaching the height of his very formidable powers, was expected to extend or beat Spassky. The expectations were confounded, as they so often are in chess. Geller played without his characteristic aggressiveness, Spassky with the sure mastery of his best days to win, s}-2j. On this form Spassky has been restored to first-favourite — narrowly—as the likely challenger. Although Tai eventually beat the experienced and very sound Jugoslav player, S. Gligoric, by 5} to 31 he had to struggle desperately to overhaul his opponent’s early one-point lead. This lead was . won, and maintained throughseveral drawn games, by the sort of speculative combinational play that Tai more often employs to rout his enemies. The final margin for

Tai was rather flattering: and Tai’s many admirers are wondering if the springs of his matchless genius are beginning to dry up. The easiest of all the candidates’ first-round games was Korchnoy’s. He beat Reshevsky, 51-21, without losing a game. Commentators spoke of the machine-like precision of his play. Korchnoy as a rule is anything but machine-like. He is undoubtedly a great player, full of resource and subtlety; but his tournament results have been uneven. Like Tai’s his health is variable; and he imposes intolerable strains upon it by the manner of his

play. He often seems to expend unnecessary nervous energy in piling up points to win a tournament by a wastefully large margin; almost as often he runs into a succession of failures because he seems to be trying too hard. Korchnoy, Hoodoo Man The subtle and indomitable Korchnoy is one of the players most feared by his compatriots. He has an extraordinary record of successes against the world champion

that suggests something of a hoodoo; and Tai. when asked how he thought he would get on against Korchnoy if they met in the semi-final, replied wry. “Well, I have about a 50-50 record against Victor. I have drawn 50 per cent of my games with him and lost 50 per cent.” Tai has a sense of humour; but there is enough truth in his self-deprecating oleasantry to be significant. It is no secret that Petrosyan would rather meet any other player than Korchnoy in the challenge round. The semi-finals should now be under way—Tai v. Korchnoy in Moscow, and Spassky v. Larsen on neutral ground, Malmo, Sweden. They should be fascinating contests and few chess writers care to predict the outcome of either. Nor will they be as confident as they were two years ago of predicting Petrosyan’s surrendering his crown. The champion has not improved on his customary moderate record in the great international tournaments; but no-one now underrates his ability in long-drawn-out single combat. His tremendous powers of concentration, his skill in turning a minute positional advantage into something big enough to save a losing game, and his merciless exploitation of the slightest weakness in the opposition all seem to multiply the slight advantage with which the champion starts the match —the benefit of the tie. Against such a master of attrition, the knowledge that drawn games are not enough, that the challenger must win more games than he loses, is a daunting psychological barrier indeed.