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Health report: As you may recall, I suspect that I had “Omicron”. I didn’t get tested, but the symptoms were consistent. I didn’t lose taste. I’ve been holding myself out of circulation for some days now. I figure I can get around a bit. Today is a regular chess club day. I will have to make a determination whether or not to go. Prudence suggests just a little longer.
However, on this sunny day, with cardinals and others singing all around the place, and after my repast of English breakfast tea and buttered toast with Patum Piperium (thank you sender!) I’m feeling rather shack-wacky and ready to get out.
Yesterday was the 50th anniversary of the first match between Boris Spassky and Bobby Fisher in Iceland. Fischer lost on a blunder.
Today, 12 July was a rest day.
Speaking of 1972, and speaking of 1962, a date we venerate around here, I am presently reading the account of the Candidates tournament…
Curacao 1962: The Battle of Minds that Shook the Chess World
This is a fascinating account of the tournament with lots of personal anecdotes about the players, what sort of people they were, their interrelationships. Represented were Benko, young Fischer, Keres, Filip, Korchnoi, Geller, Petrosian, and Tal. It was here that Fischer told Sports Illustrated that the Soviets were conspiring to draw to make it hard for him, mathematically, to emerge victorious. Involved with this mess are the wives of Victor Korchnoi and Tigran Petrosian who were very thick with the Soviet handlers and were pressuring the rapid and easy draws.
So, here’s an easy endgame puzzle. Black to move and win.
