APensacola News Journal Pensacola, Florida Monday, January 01, 1973 - Page 40
1972 Was Year of Sameness and Changes
“Good news? Depends on your viewpoint. An American Bobby Fischer now is world chess champion, to the mortification of Moscow.”
Colorado Springs Gazette-Telegraph Colorado Springs, Colorado Wednesday, January 10, 1973 - Page 6
Leading Chess Player to Speak To Friends Group
How To Be A Winner — Bobby Fischer (right), now world chess champion, was 22 years old when this photo was taken in 1964 with Juan Reid during Fischer's lecture at the Broadmoor Hotel. Reid was the only one of 50 players not defeated by Fischer in a series of exhibition matches that evening.
“…One of Reid's most memorable encounters across a chess board occurred in 1964 when he battled to a draw with Bobby Fischer, present world champion, who played and defeated nearly 50 players in less than two hours in a series of exhibition matches at the Broadmoor Hotel.”
The Akron Beacon Journal Akron, Ohio Friday, January 19, 1973 - Page 41
Chess Champ Challengers
Lubomir Davalek of Washington, Robert Byrne of Indianapolis and Sam Reshevsky of New York are favorites in next month's U.S. chess championship matches in Chicago.
The next step for the winner is a crack at Bobby Fischer's world chess crown.
The Indianapolis Star Indianapolis, Indiana Sunday, January 28, 1973 - Page 149
Bobby Fischer with Dinah Shore
Bobby Fischer, world chess champion, plays with Dinah Shore and tells her he'll win in 10 or 20 moves depending upon how bad she plays, on Dinah's Place, Thursday at 10 a.m., on WRTV (6).
The Greenville News Greenville, South Carolina Monday, January 29, 1973 - Page 40
Making Points
The game is the same, just the place and the opponent are different. Bobby Fischer, world champion chess player, goes over some basic points of the game with Dinah Shore on “Dinah's Place,” Thursday at 10 a.m. on Channel 4.
Honolulu Star-Bulletin Honolulu, Hawaii Tuesday, June 05, 1973 - Page 14
Friends of Reclusive Champ Think So
Has Bobby Fischer Quit Chess?
By Harold C. Schonberg
New York—Friends of Bobby Fischer, the world chess champion, are beginning to doubt that he will ever play again.
Since he won the title from Boris Spassky in Reykjavik, Iceland, last Sept. 1, Fischer has been in virtual seclusion.
He has even failed to accept an offer of $1.4 million from the International Hilton in Las Vegas for a rematch with Spassky, or, if the former champion were not available, any other opponent of Fischer's choice.
After a few public and television appearances on his return from Reykjavik, Fischer retired to an apartment in Pasadena, Calif., the site of the headquarters of the Worldwide Church of God. He saw very few people and refused to give interviews.
RECENTLY THERE have been reports that Fischer has become disenchanted with the church. He is now staying in Denver with a man who used to be associated with it.
Contrary to general belief, Fischer has never been a member of the church, a fundamentalist group headed by Herbert W. Armstrong that “follows biblical teachings 100 per cent.”
Several months before his match with Spassky, Fischer said that when he became world champion he would not be like “those Russian commies.” He said he would not wait for the completion of the three-year cycle of formal elimination contests, but would defend his title two or even three times a year “if the price is right.”
Under the terms of the Hilton contract, Fischer would have to pay his opponent's purse and all other expenses out of the $1.4 million.
THE HILTON, remembering Fischer's demands and complaints before and during the match with Spassky, insisted that Fischer handle all details himself.
But instead of accepting the proposition, he asked for $10 million.
One source formerly close to Fischer said the demand was not indicative of greed. Rather, he believes, it is Fischer's method of retreating from the possibility of playing chess in public.
“Bobby” said the source, “doesn't really care about money. When he returned from Reykjavik he had $2.5 million cold in offers, and another $7 million or so pending. All he had to do was sign his name to various offers. He didn't sign a thing.”
THE ICELAND match itself boasted a purse of $250,000 more than 10 times the size of any previous chess purse.
Fischer keeps in touch with various friends by telephone. A night owl whom sleeps most of the day and comes to life in the late after noon, he often telephones friends at 4 a.m., wanting to talk.
Fischer has “retired” from chess before.
Before he returned to action in the Russia-versus-the-world tournament in 1970, he had been in seclusion for about 18 months. There are those who believe that when his chess hunger becomes strong, Fischer will again enter the arena.
But at least one person who recently spoke to him thinks otherwise.
“BOBBY'S IN a state.” he said, “He is reclusive and suspicious, especially about the press. In any telephone conversation he is apt to say, ‘Are you going to pass this on to the papers?’ He is absolutely frightened of the press.”
A person in occasional touch with Fischer said that for the first time in his life the champion is not keeping abreast of the chess literature. He used to play over every published game of every major tournament. Now he is unfamiliar with the latest theoretical innovations.
“That,” said the friend, “is a bad sign.”
Journal Gazette Mattoon, Illinois Tuesday, June 12, 1973 - Page 10 (★)
Will he ever play again: Chess champion's friends wonder
By Harold C. Schonberg, 1973 New York Times News Service
New York—Friends of Bobby Fischer, the chess champion of the world are beginning to wonder if he will ever play again.
Since he won the title from Boris Spassky in Reykjavik, Iceland, last Sept. 1, Fischer has been in virtual seclusion. He has even turned down — or at least has not accepted — an offer of $1 million (plus $400,000 for his opponent and expenses) from the International Hotel in Las Vegas for a match. His opponent could be Spassky or, if the former champion was not available, any other opponent of Fischer's choice.
After a few public and television appearances on his return from Reykjavik, Fischer retired to an apartment in Pasadena, Calif., the site of the headquarters of the Worldwide Church of God. He saw very few people and refused to give interviews.
Recently there have been reports that Fischer has become disenchanted with Worldwide Church of God. He is now staying in Denver with a man who used to be associated with the church.
Contrary to general belief, Fischer has never been a member of the Worldwide Church of God, a fundamentalist group headed by Herbert W. Armstrong that “follows Biblical teachings 100 per cent.”
A church official said recently that Fischer “has observed the church's principles better than many of our members,” but that he has been a “contributor rather than an actual member.”
Fischer never has gone through the baptism ceremony.
Several months before his match with Spassky, Fischer said that when he became world champion he would not be like “those Russian commies.” He said he would not wait for the completion of the three-year cycle of formal elimination contests, but would defend his title two, or even three times a year “if the price is right.”
But he has refused all offers, including the spectacular $1.4 million contract offered by the Hilton organization. One person close to Fischer was careful to say that Fischer had not really rejected the offer. Rather, he said, Fischer had simply declined to reply to it.
Fischer keeps in touch with various friends by telephone. A night owl who sleeps most of the day and comes to life in the late afternoon, Fischer often telephones his friends at 4 A.M. wanting to talk.
It is hard to get anyone to comment about Fischer and impossible to get anyone to comment and then own up to the comment. Because, in the ingrown world of summit-level chess, those who can boast of having what passed for friendship with Fischer don't want to risk that rickety relationship.
“He expects to be entertained,” said a recipient of one phone call. “He's very suspicious and if he gets the idea that you are talking to others about him, you're off his list. He makes his own rules as he goes along. He has to have things his way — his way or no way. I myself don't think that Bobby will play any more.”
There have, however, been precedents for Fischer's “retirement” from chess. Before he returned to action in the Russia versus the World Tournament in 1970, he had been in seclusion for about 18 months. There are those who believe that when his chess hunger becomes strong, Fischer will again enter the arena.
But at least one person who recently spoke to him thinks otherwise.
“Bobby's in a state,” he said. “He is reclusive and suspicious, especially about the press. In any telephone conversation he is apt to say, ‘Are you going to pass this on to the papers?’ He is absolutely frightened of the press.”
Any person in occasional touch with Fischer says that for the first time in his life Bobby is not keeping abreast of the chess literature. He used to play over every major tournament. Now he is unfamiliar with the latest theoretical innovations.
“That,” said the friend, “is a bad sign.”
