AThe Central New Jersey Home News New Brunswick, New Jersey Sunday, October 24, 1971 - Page 97
World Chess Duel -- Tensions in the Hush
Buenos Aires (AP) — The battle lines are drawn, lights flood the stage and the hum of the audience dies until the auditorium is in muffled silence.
Two opponents advance, seat themselves at a small table, exchange courtesies, and then attack in a joust once reserved for royalty.
It has the excitement of a Broadway opening and the drama of a duel, but its chess.
Matching skill and concentration are two geniuses — egocentric, aggressive Bobby Fischer of the United States and Tigran Petrosian of the Soviet Union, a conservative contemplative Armenian who held the world's chess championship for seven years. He lost it in 1969 to Boris Spassky, also of the Soviet Union, and wants it back.
Fischer wants the title, too, and that's what this match is all about.
The winner of the 12-game series will have the right to challenge Spassky for the championship in a tournament next spring.
Seven games have been played and this match is at a critical point for the 42-year-old Petrosian. He has won only one game and lost three to his 28-year-old American opponent.
In the all-important point column, he trails two and a half points to four and a half, with wins scoring one point and draws a half point. Six and a half points are needed for victory.
Fischer won the first game but Petrosian charged back and took the second. The next three were draws and then Fischer seized the advantage, taking the double-session sixth game from Petrosian who had the white pieces and thus the first move. He followed with a brilliant victory in the seventh and Petrosian, visibly depressed, asked for a postponement of the eighth game scheduled for last Thursday.
A doctor appointed by the Argentine Chess Federation ruled that Petrosian needed at least 48 hours of rest and the game was rescheduled fro Sunday.
It will open in the San Martin Theatre with lines jamming the ticket counters. Those who arrive too late to get a seat will have to stand in a lobby but so far there has been no ticket scalping. Nor is there betting — which is illegal in Argentina, and which also is considered plebeian by most chess fans.
But both scalping and betting could surface as the tournament draws near an end — with games scheduled on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.
If you had 78 cents to buy a ticket for Sunday's game, this would be the show:
It is a few minutes before 5 p.m. No one is sitting at the table in the center of the stage. The chess board and men are set up, and the special chess clock is at a standstill position.
The auditorium is full of spectators, some 1,200, except for the first three rows, always empty at Fischer's request.
Sitting at a desk at the right of the stage is the director of the match, Lothar Schmidt of West Germany. Two young men are also on the stage, sitting unobtrusively toward the rear. The chess board is lit by a number of fluorescent fixtures especially installed for the match. There is not other light anywhere in the front of the theatre. There must be no shadow or glare on the board or chessmen. Fischer has become an authority on this kind of lighting, and insists on it.
Petrosian walks in slowly and takes his seat. There is restrained applause. He looks at the board and begins pondering his first move. Schmidt glances at his watch and exactly on the hour moves to the board and starts the clock.
He then motions to the audience to hush. There has been very little noise, but now there is complete silence.
Petrosian makes his move. A minute later Fischer comes in. There is momentary applause.
He quickly gets to his side of the board, shakes hands with Petrosian, and the game is on.
As soon as a move is made, the two young men move up to see what it was. One of them makes the same move on a large board on the stage which is visible from every point in the auditorium.
This is how the audience can see the game in progress. The players are quite visible, but their board and men cannot be distinguished off stage. Two clock faces are attached to the large board, on which the time used by each player is shown.
The number of moves made is also indicated.
The second young man moves to the wing after each move.
His task is to make two telephone calls on open lines. One is to the press room and the other to a balcony overlooking the very large lobby of the theatre where two large boards are set up with over 1,000 spectators cramming every inch of space below. This is the overflow crowd.
The session can last for up to five hours. Most of the time Fischer and Petrosian are at the board, staring at the pieces, concentrating on their plots and counter-plots. Fischer also has a glass in front of him with orange juice or another soft drink.
Petrosian has a thermos of coffee, which will last through the game.
Occasionally one or the other will step off the stage.
Fischer may have ordered a sandwich, which he will consume quickly, out of sight of the audience. The players are very careful not to disturb each other. Schmidt is there to take care of any dispute, which is not likely to occur, and to make certain that there is no disturbance.
When the slight murmur from the audience increases in volume, Schmidt presses a button which lights up a red sign reading “silencio.” If this is not sufficient, he gets up, raises his hands with palms open, and faces the area that seems noisiest. In a moment he can turn off the sign and relax once more.
When the game ends in a victory for either player, the applause is deafening.
All restraints are off.
