| |
COVER
STORY: CHESS
The
Fight Through Difficuties
In
a world where the best brains go overboard as a matter of course, this
equilibrium has helped Anand fight through difficult times and keep his
eye on his game. Israeli Grandmaster Boris Gelfand, one of Anand's closest
friends on the circuit, thinks the endless rounds of negotiations with
Kasparov for a match-up last year cost him dearly. "Kasparov had
a team to handle the talks while Anand had to put his own energies into
it. It took him away from real tournament chess and preyed on his mind.
Even at the start of 2000 around the Linares Super Grandmaster event,
the talks began again and he clearly underperformed there." Anand
didn't win a match in Linares, went home, packed away his computer and
did some gardening for two months. Early in the summer he called Ubilava
and they began work again. By the time he came to Delhi, he was relaxed
and fresh, having won five events. The world championship has seamlessly
became part of this successful season.
He will
not stand for having his world title undermined by questions about whether
Kasparov, Kramnik and Karpov's absence had devalued it. Or indeed whether
the Kasparov-Kramnik match in the year was a parallel world championship.
"No world championship can be restricted to two players. What if
Agassi and Sampras decide they are the best two players and just play
each other every year? How can it be a world championship if everybody
doesn't have a shot at it? They are welcome to play an exhibition match,
but it has nothing to do with the world championship. By nature it is
a cartel." Indian chess coach Raghunandan Gokhale believes Anand's
refusal to play Kasparov on the Russian's terms this year is significant.
"In 1995 Kasparov did not show Anand basic courtesy when it came
to fixing and changing the venues. Now he has turned Kasparov down and
Kasparov is not used to being refused-he is used to opponents going out
of their way to accommodate him." In order to rattle Anand in their
New York match, Kasparov would make a move, leave the room and slam the
door behind him. Today, the Indian can slam a few doors of his own.
In Teheran,
Anand brought his own story a full circle: the boy who learnt chess from
his mother picked up the phone and called her when he became world champion.
Sushila who followed the game on the Internet, first asked him why he
had not played a particular move she thought best. Anand giggled and told
her the move he picked had worked quicker. He giggles a lot and uses the
word "cool" often, churns out one-liners that could belong to
sitcoms and does a very good Russian accent. He loves the music of U2
and admits that, at one time watching The Terminator would make him happy.
This is the guy who on his honeymoon sprinted across an autobahn in Germany
because he couldn't find any other way across. Who hates waking up early,
didn't own an actual chessboard for a long time and who in the company
of his wife misses flights and trains on a regular basis.
This is
the guy the world has chosen to paint as a Mr Wholesome Vegetarian who
has never said a rash word or put a foot wrong or worn an unironed shirt.
The world, you think, must be incredibly stupid. Or, as is more likely
the case, Anand is incredibly smart. He balances the demands of the media
and personal privacy with the sure-footedness of a high-wire artist. Possibly
the richest Indian sportsman, as early as 1992 business today magazine
estimated his earnings that year at Rs 45 lakh. In 1999, he received $200,000
(Rs 90 lakh) as fee for sitting out of the fide championships in anticipation
of a match-up with Kasparov that never materialised. This year, while
negotiating with Kasparov, he is reported to have asked for $300,000 as
a fee before the deal broke down. He is reckoned to be among the most
wanted players on the chess circuit along with Kasparov and Judit Polgar
and those invitations come with six-figure appearance fees.
Anand now
lives outside Madrid, pays taxes in Spain and invests in the stock markets
in three continents. But all this he does with minimum flash. Aruna says,
"We don't discuss money at all-we're not extravagant." It is
his middle-of-the-roadness that international chess adores. In Spain,
he is recognised in public and invited on prime time talk shows. Tournament
organisers in Israel politely ignored overtures from Kasparov, preferring
instead to invite Anand because he generates interest not anxiety. An
Albanian journalist travelled four days by bus to get to Teheran, only
to reach Anand at dinner time at the end of the final, mortified that
he had missed out on the big moment. Chess experts reckon he had reached
in time to see a new story begin. Russian Grandmaster Valery Salov says,
"Anand is already one of the greatest players of this century and
is going to be one of the great players of the century to come."
Gokhale thinks Anand's high standards in Delhi and Teheran was a sign
that "he is catching up with Kasparov in quality too".
An American
writer seeking to define genius said it was about nurturing a vision.
"Fame and fortune," he said, "are destinations. True greatness
is a journey." Vishwanathan Anand, world chess champion, is a traveller
packed and ready for the long haul.
Pg.
1
Top
|
|