So Long, Bobby

Bobby Fischer died yesterday, apparently of kidney failure. He was 64. There's an article about it in the Washington Post.

I was fascinated by Fischer and his memorable World Chess Championship match against Boris Spassky back in 1972. I was even more impressed when I began to study his style. My favorite book on chess was Fischer's own, Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess, which still has an honored place on my bookshelf. In the Washington Post article above, Frank Brady, a long-time Fischer associate and biographer, described Fischer's style as "more like Bach than Beethoven." I don't want to pretend to a level of appreciation for classical music that I don't possess, but I wanted to make sure it was noted that Bobby's style was unique, and very striking. For a time, I was fascinated by the way a master's style of chess playing opened an intriguing window into the mind of the player, and mental activity in general. I studied the games of Lasker, Nimzowich, and many others, but Fischer's style was a straight line where the others were arcs and ellipses. For all his idiosyncracies away from the chessboard, his style of play displayed a facility for getting through the bs and cutting right to the chase that was like a streak of lightning through a gray and hazy fog. His chess mind was one of bracing clarity.

Perhaps it was partly my youth that contributed to my strong impressions, but I think there was something timeless about Fischer's brief moment in the limelight. I'm not sure I could say what it means, or why I felt so strongly that I should commemorate his passing here. It's enough that I want to; it's my blog, after all.

I'll miss you, Bobby. You really inspired me, and many others as well, I'm sure. I can't speak to the totality of your life, but in those brief moments when you turned on the light in your mind, you told us something, and I think it was pretty important.

Checkmate.