Vishwanathan Anand is no movie buff. But he considers The Terminator good omen. He won three games in a row when they showed Arnold Schwarzenegger's body bountiful during the last interzonal. And he won against Anatoly Karpov when they put it on again before a game in Brussels. "I like the whole concept—someone from the future coming with the object to kill," he says.
But given the chance to swiftly swat the last surviving relic of the past, and give the world the first Gentleman Champion (chipmaker Intel's hope), Anand recoiled. And, after making Karpov look "like a man whose best friend had just died" by drawing level in the FIDE finals, it was the Old Fox who hacked the young cat to shreds in the playoffs in Switzerland.
That specific lack of ruthlessness when it matters—"killer instinct"—will soon be on every neoliterate's lip. Look,they'll say, Anand didn't complain about having to play six back-to-back games, after playing 23 games over 23 days to qualify. Look, he didn't set Karpov up: no hypnotism; no colour-coded yoghurt to upset his rival.
"Hey, wasn't this the guy who allowed organisers to give him a different hair cut before his PCA tug-of-war with Garry Kasparov in New York three years ago? And was only too happy because they took him to a five-star saloon!"
Sure, Anand v Karpov 1998 was positively peaceful although the reigning champion avoided speaking with the challenger in post-mortems. Dutch umpire Geurt Gijssen almost didn't have to intervene. Mikhail Gorbachev, who strolled into the 120-seater Olympic Museum, should have come away impressed at the game's post-Cold War callisthenics.
But make no mistake. It isn't aggro—not its clock-banging, eyeball-to-eyeball glaring manifestations—that's to blame. The fault lies elsewhere. Hear Yugoslav Grand Master Ljubojevic: "Anand has great talent, many good qualities, but he lacks something. The great champions have the capability to feel, not by reasoning, but by intuition, the critical moments of the game.... Anand lacks this quality."
First critical moment: game four. Despite a record with white about the same as McDonald's against cows, Anand botched up, leaving mom Susheela "sad and depressed" back home in Chennai. Second critical moment: the rapids. When the world's fastest-thinking player could have had the Russian for dinner, the veggie who loves Chinese opted for the dessert.
Okay, he had to play nonstop topflight chess for a month and top a leaderboard of 96 at Groningen to earn the right to challenge Karpov. Okay, he had to make his own flight bookings to Lausanne because FIDE wouldn't. Okay, Karpov was unfairly seeded straight into the finals. Okay, it was a matchup between a fresh and well-prepared champion, and a tired, travel-weary challenger.
Okay, as Arvind Aaron wrote in The Hindu : "It was a race between one who had just completed a marathon and the other starting afresh in a 100 metres dash."
But Anand wanted the title bad enough. That's why he complied with the seeding and schedule although that's why world number one and two, Kasparov and Vladimir Kramnik, stayed away. Kramnik explained his absence bluntly: "Is it fair to expect Sampras to only play one match and defend his Wimbledon title?"
Anand, ever the diplomat, would not get into such rhetoric. Because everything else was in his favour. Age: 28 vs 46. Elo rating: 2765 vs 2745. Six wins versus three. The last loss being seven years ago.
In spite of a 31-game unbeaten run in the runup to Lausanne, Anand probably knew what was in store: "Karpov waited for the corpse of his challenger to be delivered in a coffin.... If anybody else other than Karpov wins, it's a world championship. Otherwise, it's not."
Lausanne, the Olympic capital, was chosen as the venue by FIDE chief Kirsan Ilyum-zhinov in an attempt to get chess recognised as an Olympic discipline. In the end, the Karpov-Anand duel must have met with the International Olympic Committee's expectations although the bid to unify the chess ruling body (FIDE) with Kasparov's breakaway PCA faction may have come unstuck.
Karpov may take on Kasparov possibly in Las Vegas this December. Vegas? Chess? Ilyumzhinov is not only FIDE chief but also of his own Caucasian state, Kalmykia. He supports polygamy, says men should work, women should have babies, and kids should play chess. And caused an international outcry with potential sponsorship deal with, yes, Saddam Hussein.
Anand still wants the world title badly, but on his terms. Midway through the finals, when the outcome was still to be decided, when a Swiss journalist asked Karpov where he would like to take on Kasparov, Anand took it as an insult, and walked out. Just wife Aruna and small team with him, against Karpov's huge 15-member squad. Claret jackets instead of grey, sombre coats.
As chess ace Rohini Khadilkar says: "Anand made it completely on his merit. He deserves his success and his ability should never ever be diluted on the basis of minor drawbacks.... Unlike in cricket or any other game, no amount of politics can stop a good chess player from winning."
All the world loves a winner. Kramnik now says: "Everybody will forget who played in Groningen. Everybody will remember who won the world championship." It was Anatoly Evgenyvitch Karpov. Says Manisha Mohite of Deccan Herald : "If Anand was fresh, the result would have been different and would have come much sooner."
On his own steam, Anand has made a mark like no other Indian sportsman, resuscitating the game in the country of its origin. With a quiet dignity that's a rarity in world sport.
Tags