(2 of 2)
Spassky recovered strongly in the fourth game; only Fischer's great resourcefulness under fire enabled him to stave off defeat and force a draw. But the fifth game was an utter fiasco for Boris. Playing white against the Nimzo-Indian defense, he failed to secure the initiative, vacillated and then, on the 27th move, committed one of the worst blunders of his career. After realizing his error, Boris resigned on the spot. "My position was bad anyway," he shrugged as I met him on his way out. He seemed wearily detached.
Now the match was tied, 2½ to 2½. The sixth game indicated that a new phase, the "middle game," had begun. This was Bobby's most impressive victory, a classic model of switching the attack from one wing to the other. Mindful of his bitter experience in Game 4, Bobby, whose first move is almost always pawn to king four, changed to a queen pawn opening for the first time, boldly outplaying Boris on his own ground. Boris resigned on move 41, and lingered onstage to applaud Fischer's brilliance.
In Games 7 through 10 Bobby's slashing attack continued. He increased his lead to 3 points, hacking away all resistance. But in the eleventh game, Bobby used his favorite Najdorf Sicilian defense once too often, snatching the so-called "poisoned pawn." This time, Spassky was ready; he crushed Bobby for his finest—and last—win of the match. Game 12 was a draw. But Boris blundered on the 69th move of Game 13; in the eighth hour of a marathon contest, he threw away a draw and fell behind, 8 points to 5.
The Reykjavik "endgame" started with Game 14, the first of seven drawn games in a row. Far from being dull, these were slam-bang affairs in which Spassky dipped into almost superhuman reservoirs of strength to fight Bobby to a standstill. Boris did not become world champion by accident.
At 35, still in his prime, Spassky is not as innovative and flashy as Bobby, but the match proved that he is a grittier, tougher opponent than ever. He is a complete player, at home in both the wide-open king pawn or the positional queen pawn opening. Boris lost the last game, but only because he was under the pressure of the 11½-8½ match score. He did not have to sacrifice his rook on move 19 in a bold attempt to win—he could have settled for two more draws and gone home with a more respectable score. Yet he still might have drawn the game with a better sealed move before adjournment.
The impact of the Reykjavik match on world chess is bound to be healthy. The Russians are likely to intensify their search for young grandmasters. So are the Americans, now that there is some money in the game. In fact, the search is already on all over the world for a fitting challenger to King Robert, whose reign promises to be long and stormy. But there is one player in the world with a chance right now to beat Bobby Fischer. That is Boris Spassky. I would like to see a rematch, and I think Bobby would too.