Chess has always been a particular passion of mine, which, much like other passions, rises and falls as the years go by. Most games and their inherent competitiveness are fun, but chess remains the most elegant. It has the physical beauty of the pieces, the simplest of rules, yet the potential for incredible complexity, and no dice. I hate dice. Chess requires pure intellect.During the 70's, following the famous Fischer-Spassky match, the virtual embodiment of Russo-American war, practically every American mother wanted nothing more for her child than to grow up a chess master. Chess even had its cadre of groupies who worked their way up the ranking ladder.
Times have changed. Internationally ranked grand masters now must hustle games in New York's Washington Square Park, having no place to live or eat. Having devoted their lives to chess, they have no marketable skills. Meanwhile, the Russians coddle and nurture anyone showing the slightest hint of talent.
Fred Waitzkin's son Josh was found to be exceptionally talented at age six. By 11, he had fought the current world champion Garry Kasparov to a draw in an exhibition match. Waitzkin writes of his own passion for the game and his relationship with his son, and the impact such intense dedication can have on a child and his family, in a marvelous book entitled Searching for Bobby Fischer: The World of Chess, Observed by the Father of a Child Prodigy . The book is a fascinating account of the chess world, populated with eccentric characters. As one reviewer has said, "chess lives, or windmills its arms, on the outer rims of sanity." The "search" for Fischer becomes an allegory for families and values and the way we determine what is important in our lives. Fischer, even yet a recluse, even though probably "insane" (whatever that means), continues to dominate the American game. The Fischer-Spassky rematch in Yugoslavia may become the non-event of the century.
By the way, the movie was great, too
