It’s 7 minutes past 5 o’clock in the afternoon on July 17th, 1972. The place is a small backstage room of Laugardalsholl in Reykjavik on the island of Iceland, the venue for the Fischer versus Spassky World Championship Match. It’s Game 3 of their titanic struggle which has been called the Match of the Century by some. But, I think, it was more than that, more than the Match of the Century: It was the Match of all Time.
 
At the described moment, Fischer, playing Black, had just made his first move. He couldn’t hear the thunderous applause from the more than 1000 spectators in the main auditorium of the building. The match had been saved. Why was that? And why was Game 3 played in the small room away from the spectators. And why were the events right before it began decisive for the outcome of the match. Let’s briefly review what had happened.
 
On the qualifying circuit, Fischer had defeated grandmasters Mark Taimanov, Bent Larsen and Tigran Petrosian in candidates matches. The first two had been demolished by 6:0, and Petrosian, a former World Champion who had a reputation for losing two games in a row only once in a millennium, was taken apart by Fischer with four straight wins.The magnitude of Fischers accomplishment was taken note of with awe not only by the world of chess but by the world in general. Also, it was the first time that a player from the West had single-handedly managed to break through the phalanx of Russian super-grandmasters who had held a firm grip on the supreme chess title and its surroundings since World War II.Having beaten Petrosian, Fischer was then merely a step away from the World Championship.
 
 
The legendary American champion Bobby Fischer in 1972
 
The Fischer-Spassky match began on Saturday, July 1st, with a lavish opening festival at Reykjavik’s National Theater, the presidents of Iceland and of FIDE being in attendance, as well as ambassadors and other dignitaries. One seat, however, remained empty, the seat next to Spassky: Fischer’s seat.
 
At this time, Fischer was still staying in Douglaston, New York, at the house of his long time friend IM Anthony Saidy, because some of his conditions for the match had not been met. At about the same time the Russian delegation demanded a Fischer forfeit for Game 1 in view of his absence. FIDE President and former World Champion Max Euwe, in a breach of regulations, postponed the start of the first game by two days and set Fischer a firm deadline to appear: July 4th, noon, Reykjavik time.
 
Chess was making international headlines. The events surrounding the Fischer-Spassky encounter dominated the world’s press and in America pushed top-notch political issues such as the Vietnam war and the US presidential nominations to page 2. It seemed hopeless, though, that Fischer would come and play. Then early on July 3rd, early afternoon, the US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger placed a phone call to Fischer. “This is one of the two worst chess players in the world speaking to the best.(…) America wants you to go over there and beat the Russians.” Gudmundur Thorarinson, president of the Icelandic Chess Federation later wrote about this phone call. ”Fischer’s lawyers told me they had been present.(…) There was no way of getting him to Iceland.(…) He was determined(…), but when Kissinger talked to him and told him that he had to fight the Russians, they said his face changed.(…) He was like a young man going into battle like a soldier, and he said:”I will fight the Russians.””
 
 
Fischer arriving in Reykjavik on July 4th 1972
 
Later the same day, Fischer was driven to John F. Kennedy airport. There he was secretly transferred to a small bus of Loftleidir Icelandic Airlines and smuggled on board of flight 202A, destination Reykjavik. The plane took off from JFK at 10.04 at night, some three hours later than scheduled. Fischer had stopped the world this long, keeping all other passengers waiting, some even being taken off the plane at the last moment to make room for Fischer’s entourage. In spite of the secrecy, the Foreign Ministry in Moscow was aware of this and started to inform the Russian delegation in Reykjavik that the American Challenger was on his way. Fischer arrived at Iceland’s Keflavik airport in the early hours of July 4th, some 10 hours before the expiration of Euwes deadline to face Spassky.
 
    (To be continued)
 
Solution to last month's column
 
    Lowcki-Tartakower, Jurata, 1937
 
    Black to play, position after White's 32. move
 
In analysing how to proceed, Tartakower discovered the only winning manoeuvre. What is it? Solution: 33…Qc5+ 34. Kh1 Qc4 35. Kg1 Qd4+ 36. Kh1 Qe4 37. Qc1 Qd3 38. Kg1 Qd4+ 39. Kh1 Qd2 0-1.]

In last month's column A great moment in chess (Part 1), we followed the Fischer-Spassky World Championship Match of 1972 to the point where Fischer finally arrived in Reykjavik on July 4th, just hours before the expiration of FIDE president Max Euwe's deadline.
 
Now that Fischer was on the island, not all problems had disappeared. As Gudmundur Thorarinsson, President of the Icelandic Chess Federation, indicated: “You Americans think the only problem is to get Bobby here. You don't understand it is just as important – and maybe more difficult – to keep the Russians here.”
 
Indeed, the Russians were infuriated by the two-day postponement that Euwe had granted to Fischer. And there were discussions on their side to call off the match. Several meetings took place in Reykjavik behind the scenes, at all hours of the day and night. At the highest level, the level of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, the view was held that Fischer's conduct constituted a humiliation of the World Champion. And there are indications that at least for a while, efforts were under way to summon Spassky home. A strongly worded telegram was sent to Grandmaster Lothar Schmid, the German referee of the match, by the Soviet Chess Federation complaining about Fischer's conduct and Euwe's reaction to it. The US ambassador to Iceland, Theodore Tremblay, informed his superiors in Washington that the Russian side had become difficult to the point that the entire match again was threatened.
 
At this critical moment, Thorarinsson decided to seek assistance from the Icelandic Prime Minister Olafur Johannesson. The Prime Minister promptly contacted the Soviet Ambassador, Sergei Astavin, asking him to personally use his influence in making sure the Russian delegation would stay. Also, on July 6th, Fischer unexpectedly apologized to Spassky, both verbally and in writing, and after this gesture the match seemed again to be saved.
 
The drawing of colors finally took place on the evening of July 7th in the playing hall. Journalist Brad Darrach gives a first-hand account of the event: “At 8:45 the ceremony began. When Spassky strolled on stage, he got a big hand. Bobby was given a much fainter ovation. Spassky drifted to the chess table and inspected it calmly; he had seen it once before. Bobby, who had never seen the physical arrangements for the match, glanced quickly about the stage. (…) The table was an angular, modern piece of heavy mahagony, rubbed to a red-gold glow. Cream-colored leather cushions had been let into the edges for the players to lean on. (…) Bobby stared down at it for at least a minute without moving. The hall fell silent. (…) Then Bobby's hand moved slowly toward the chessboard until at last, lovingly, he touched the White King.
 
When Geller [Spassky's second] had announced that the Champion's conditions had been met and he would play, Schmid invited Spassky to choose one of the two envelopes he was holding. Spassky picked the envelope containing Bobby's name. This choice gave Bobby »the right to choose colors from Pawns held in the hands of the other player«. Spassky picked up a Black Pawn and a White Pawn, turned his back and then turned to face Bobby with his fists closed. Bobby confidently reached out and tapped Spassky's right hand.(…) Spassky opened his right hand and displayed – a Black Pawn. Bobby gave a little start, then looked away. »Mr. Fischer has selected Black«, Schmid announced. »Mr.Spassky, therefore, has White and will make the first move in the first game of the match, which will begin on Tuesday, July 11, at 5:00 in the afternoon.«”
 
Prior to their Reykjavik encounter, the two protagonists had contested five games, resulting in three wins for Spassky and two draws. On every occasion he had played the white pieces against Fischer, Spassky had opened with the Queen's Pawn, while in his world title match with Petrosian, which won him the crown, Spassky had built his repertoire around 1.e4.
 
After almost a year of extensive and systematic preparation, what will he now play against Fischer. Did his team's microscopic study of Fischer's games unearth subtle weaknesses in his opponents handling of closed systems or will it have convinced Spassky to openly strike at Fischer with 1.e4 – the most daring move against Fischer's repertoire, inviting Poison Pawn variations of the Sicilian complex, hence demonstrating a willingness to enter the most dangerous lines which Fischer has analysed for years.
And one should not forget that virtually all of the top Russian chessplayers were involved in assisting Spassky during his preparation: Karpov played secret training matches with Spassky, Tal as well as Petrosian, Keres, Smyslov wrote detailed confidential memos about Fischer's strengths and weaknesses. Some of these have only recently surfaced from Russian archives. Here are quotes from a selection of these memos.
 
Tal: ”In the Sicilian Defence Fischer, as a rule, sticks to well-tried systems when playing White. These are the Sozin variation (2…Sc6 and 5…d6), the Rauzer Attack, and the Dragon variation – systems with g3 (I think that 5.Nb5 can be dismissed) against the Paulsen variation. The only variation in which Fischer does not always stick to the same moves is his favourite 2…d6 and 5…a6. Also 6.Bc4, 6.h3, and 6.Bg5. Perhaps, the American should be »sounded out« – 24 games provide enough time for that.
 
Fischer's reaction to 1…c6 appears to be not to impressive. In any case, the system he used against Petrosian ought not to be too dangerous. Also, in my view, his reaction to 3…Nf6 in the Ruy Lopez (he used 6. Bg5 at a tournament in the USA) can hardly be a potent argument against this system.
If it were possible to divert Fischer from his favourite system in the Sicilian Defence, Spassky's task would be greatly facilitated. I am sure that you are exploring ways to do so (for instance, 6.Bg5 and 6.Be2 – Geller).
 
I would like to draw your attention to the sequence of moves 1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 d6 3.Nc3. In the two games known to me Fischer did not play 3…Nf6. Against Kurajica (Zagreb 1970) he continued 3…Na6, and in a lightning chess tournament against me he played 3…e5. In both games Fischer's opening position was dubious. Perhaps he doesn’t like 4. e5?”
 
Petrosian:
 
(a) The Sicilian Defence with 2…d6 and 5…a6 is currently going through a serious crisis in the case of both 6.Be2 and 6.Bg5. It is a matter of taste which plan is to be preferred and perfected.
 
(b) Against the King's Indian Defence and the Grunfeld Defence, systems must be chosen that give White a pawn preponderance in the center.
 
(c) In reply to 1.e4 practically any opening can be used against Fischer with the exception of 1…e5 (the Ruy Lopez). (d) Fischer has to be »raced« through many openings playing both White and Black.
 
Keres: ”Because Fischer hardly ever plays anything but 1.e4 when White, preparation is fairly circumscribe. Fischer's range when playing Black is also fairly narrow: in response to 1.e4 he chooses the Sicilian Defence and in response to 1.d4 he prefers the King's Indian Defence, the Grunfeld Defence, or the Queen's Gambit. He tries to steer the game towards these systems after 1.Nf3, too, and often responds with 1…c5 to 1.c4. Perhaps, then he can be caught out with the Tarrasch Defence, colours reversed? Fischer has hardly ever played this opening, while Spassky likes it and plays it superbly. In general, such a strategic opening with some exciting tactical possibilities seems to be a suitable weapon, especially because White has made an extra move.(…).
 
White in response to Sicilian Defence 2…d6 and 5…a6: It is a very complicated system, which, after 6.Bg5, calls for a lot of preparation. Because Fischer has worked a lot on this and knows the position well I would not recommend 6.Bg5 unless the situation is desperate. I believe that 6.Be2 would be more practicable, especially because Geller is a great connoisseur of that system. Consideration can also be given to 6.f4 which often gives White a chance to attack the king. The move 6.Be3 has not been sufficiently explored for any judgments to be passed on it.”
 
Smyslov: ”The repertoire of openings must be diversified and tailored to Fischer's specific variations.
 
a) For instance, one may consider 6.Be2 in the Sicilian Defence with the Knight moving from f3 to b3. Any scheme must be carefully thought out and hold the promise of parity if an advantage is not gained. In other words, a large safety margin must be created.
 
b) In reply to the King's Indian Defence the Samisch system can be used, and also a calm development, for example, 1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 g6 3.Nc3 Bg7 4.Nf3 d6 5.Bg5, etc. In the Grunfeld Defence it would be interesting to explore the system with 4.Qb3 and 4.Bf4.
 
c) In reply to 1.e4, classical systems with 1…e5 must be prepared. I can recommend the Petroff Defence as well as the Ruy Lopez in its classical shape with Nc6-a5 and c7-c5 modelled on Fischer's games with Kholmov (Havana 1965) and O'Kelly (Buenos Aires 1970) updated in line with modern theory.
 
d) I do not believe in the strength of Black's defence in the variation much favoured by Fischer: 1. c4 c5 2. Nf3 g6 3. d4 cd4 4. Nd4. The Maroczy formation with pawns at c4 and e4 promises a solid initiative to White.”
 
Tuesday, July 11th, then saw the eagerly expected first game. At 4:56 p.m. Spassky entered the main auditorium of Laugardalshall, the playing venue, and was greeted by referee Lothar Schmid. Schmid walked with him to the chess table and Spassky sat down, Schmid going back to his own table. At 4:59.45 Schmid approched the playing table again and 15 seconds later started Spassky's clock. Almost immediately, Spassky advanced his d-pawn: 1.d4.
 
Again Fischer was late. At 5:07, he made his entrance on stage, accompanied by Ah's and Oh's from an audience of 3000 spectators and loud applause. After shaking Spassky's hand, Fischer replied with 1…Nf6. Then came 2.c4 e6 [Fischer avoids the King's Indian for which on other occasions he has displaed a clear penchant. Spassky's second Efim Geller, however, is one of the main experts of this defence and certainly Fischer was expecting Spassky to be peppered with novelties.] 3.Nf3 d5 4.Nc3 Bb4 5.e3 0-0 6.Bd3 c5 7.0-0 Nc6 8.a3 Ba5 and a standard position of the Nimzo-Indian was on the board.
 
Spassky played with great caution and up to move 14, when Fischer deviated, both sides followed a game between Spassky and Krogius from 15 years back. Both players didn't mind simplifications, and at move 28 all officers except a pair of black-squared Bishops had left the board. Then, after Spassky's 29th move, this position was arrived at:
 
Spassky,Boris V (2660) - Fischer,Robert James (2785) [E56]
World Championship 28th Reykjavik (1), 11.07.1972
1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nf3 d5 4.Nc3 Bb4 5.e3 0-0 6.Bd3 c5 7.0-0 Nc6 8.a3 Ba5 9.Ne2 dxc4 10.Bxc4 Bb6 11.dxc5 Qxd1 12.Rxd1 Bxc5 13.b4 Be7 14.Bb2 Bd7 15.Rac1 Rfd8 16.Ned4 Nxd4 17.Nxd4 Ba4 18.Bb3 Bxb3 19.Nxb3 Rxd1+ 20.Rxd1 Rc8 21.Kf1 Kf8 22.Ke2 Ne4 23.Rc1 Rxc1 24.Bxc1 f6 25.Na5 Nd6 26.Kd3 Bd8 27.Nc4 Bc7 28.Nxd6 Bxd6 29.b5
 
 
    Black to move
 
A position with no winning chances for either side and very definitely drawn. In fact, 500 spectators had left and about an equal number was hanging around in the lobby and the restaurant, waiting for the inevitable pieceful conclusion of the game. Then, the unbelievable happened. Fischer took his bishop and captured Spassky's pawn on h2, allowing his bishop to be trapped, a move which even middle-class players would have rejected out of hand. In consternation, Spassky jerked as if hit by a bullet, then looked at the board in disbelief. Instantly, people in the lobby were yelling and shouting, trying to get back into the auditorium. Gudmundur Thorarinson displayed a fantastic grin: “One move and we hit every front page everywhere in the world.”
 
 
Spassky vs Fischer, 1972 in Reykjavik
 
Addendum: originally the ChessBase.com editors had captioned the above picture "Fischer executing the move 29...Bxh2 on July 11, 1972 in Reyjkavik", perpetuating an urban legend. A number of readers noted that Fischer is capturing on the right (queen) side of the board, and that there are rooks still present. Ergo: it could not be the first game and certainly not the bishop capture.
 
Jon Crumiller of Princeton, New Jersey writes: "The position appears to be from the 21st game, August 31, 1972, after White's 20th move Rxd5, and immediately before Black's 20th move ...Bxh2+ (this coincidence could help explain the mislabeled caption). But Fischer is not executing the move ...Bxh2+ at that moment, he is reaching for White's Queenside; my guess would be that he is adjusting a piece (j'adoube) or else pushing away a piece that had already been captured, perhaps the Knight that he captured the prior move." Chess mystery: does anyone have a better explanation?
 
In their most recommendable book “Bobby Fischer goes to war”, the two BBC-reporters David Edmonds and John Eidinow write: “In 1992, when Fischer and Spassky played a rematch, a journalist, still intrigued by the move two decades earlier, asked Fischer whether he had been trying to create winning chances by complicating a drawn position.”Basically that's right. Yes,” he replied. At the time, however, he offered a different explanation, claiming to Lombardy [his second] that he had reacted too fast because the cameras distracted him.”
 
When the game was continued the next day, Fischer left the playing table for half an hour and strongly protested the presence of the television cameras to Grandmaster Schmid. Then he resigned on move 56.
 
29...Bxh2 30.g3 h5 31.Ke2 h4 32.Kf3 Ke7 33.Kg2 hxg3 34.fxg3 Bxg3 35.Kxg3 Kd6 36.a4 Kd5 37.Ba3 Ke4 38.Bc5 a6 39.b6 f5 40.Kh4 f4 41.exf4 Kxf4 42.Kh5 Kf5 43.Be3 Ke4 44.Bf2 Kf5 45.Bh4 e5 46.Bg5 e4 47.Be3 Kf6 48.Kg4 Ke5 49.Kg5 Kd5 50.Kf5 a5 51.Bf2 g5 52.Kxg5 Kc4 53.Kf5 Kb4 54.Kxe4 Kxa4 55.Kd5 Kb5 56.Kd6 1-0. [Click to replay]
 
The Russian delegation naturally was in an effervescent mood: ”We have lift-off!” But there was trouble again on the horizon: The same evening, Fred Cramer, a spokesman for Fischer, sent a letter to the referee in which he demanded that the television cameras be removed entirely. But the American businessman Chester Fox, who had secured all filming rights of the match, refused to take the cameras out of the auditorium and indeed the Amsterdam Agreement – the match rules agreed to by both players – explicitly allowed filming of the games. (To be continued...)
 

In part 2 of our series “A great moment in chess”, we followed the Fischer-Spassky World Championship Match of 1972 to the conclusion of Game 1 which Spassky won. There was immense international interest in the match with front page coverage from many of the world's well-known newspapers and magazines.
 
Fischer attributed his loss in Game 1 to the disturbance resulting from the presence of film cameras in the playing hall. After the game he demanded from the Icelandic Chess Federation that he be given complete control over the filming in the hall. They refused. And indeed, legally there wasn’t much they could do, since the filming rights had been sold to the American businessman Chester Fox.
 
There was intense negotiation going on between Fischer's lawyers, the Islandic Chess Federation and the Chester Fox team. All this behind the scenes. Without resolution of the central issue.
 
According to the match schedule, Game 2 was to begin at 5:00 p.m. on Thursday, July 13, with Fischer playing the white pieces. The German referee, Grandmaster Lothar Schmid, starts Fischers clock at exactly this point in time. Spassky had arrived a few minutes earlier and was sitting at the table.
 
Fischer, however, was still in his hotel room. The challenger had one hour to appear at the board and make his first move otherwise he would lose that game by forfeit. In an attempt to accommodate Fischer's demands, the organizers had tried to position the cameras in a way they could not be seen. They were hidden in black towers with little 4-inch holes in them for the lenses. These lenses were not visible from the playing table and also no camera noise could be heard there. Before the game, Referee Schmid had inspected this set-up and was thoroughly satisfied. To the chief organizer of the match, Gudmundur Thorarinsson, he stated: “If Bobby will object to this, I will rule against him.”
 
At 4:50, ten minutes before Schmid presses the clock for Game 2, Thorarinsson informs one of the lawyers for Chester Fox that Schmid was satisfied with the arrangements for the cameras. This information was also transmitted to Fischer in his hotel room. Fischer, in anger, yelled that he wouldn’t appear for the game. One of Fischers spokesmen, Fred Cramer, approached Schmid, asking him to delay the start of the game to resolve the camera issue. Schmid refused, indicating that the match rules did not allow this.
 
At exactly 5:00 p.m. Fischer's clock starts ticking. With Fischer showing no intention to appear at the board, tension starts to increase among the officials in the hall. At 5:10 Thorarinsson phones Fischer's hotel suite and talks to his second William Lombardy, who is with Fischer. Thorarinsson asks that Fischer at least come to the hall and play the game under protest.
 
At 5:15 Paul Marshall, Fischer's lawyer in Reykjavik, pleads with Schmid to stop Fischers clock to have time for further negotiations. Schmid refuses: “If Bobby does not come, I have to declare a forfeit.”
 
At 5:20 Thorarinsson confers with Chester Fox and his lawyer Richard Stein.They decide to hold their position. Still, Thorarinsson is well aware that most likely it will put an end to the match if Fischer is forfeited on Game 2. He says to Fox: “We must not show the slighest weakness now. Our only chance to win is to convince Bobby that we will give up the match rather than give in. But between ourselves, we must understand that if Bobby is crazy enough to hold out, we will have to give in first.”
 
At 5:30, Andrew Davis, another of Fischer's lawyers urgently phones Richard Stein from New York and pleads with him: “Dick, you've got to help us. Fischer is in a stubborn rage and we need at least a day to cool him down. If you can pull the cameras out for this game, I'll do my goddamnest to help you. Otherwise, it's all over. He won't accept a forfeit.” Stein, being left with no other options, agrees instantly, and convinces Thorarinsson that Fischer was indeed ready to wreck the match over the cameras. It was 5:35 by now. Thorarinsson phones Lombardy, telling him that he was ordering the cameras out. Lombardy transmitts this information to Fischer. “Bobby says he'll come.”, Lombardy tells Thorarinsson. There is an avalanche of relief among organizers and match officials in the playing hall. The situation seems to having been saved almost at the last moment. It is 5:39. Fischer has 21 minutes to appear to make his move. During all of the wheelings and dealings behind the scenes, a police escort, engine running, has been waiting outside Fischer's hotel and all traffic lights on the way to the playing venue were held at “green”. In addition, the road between Fischer's hotel and Laugardallshall is cleared of traffic – protocoll for a head of state. And it is only a few minutes drive. But then Fischer adds one more condition. He wants his clock set back to zero!! Thorarinsson's eyes went wide in this rollercoaster ride. Only the referee has the authority to reset the clock and Thorarinsson immediately approaches Schmid with Fischer's demand. But Schmid refuses. In a later interview he says: “If Mr. Fischer had come to the playing hall, I could have helped him. But he did not come, and his protest was not valid. I had no choice but to start his clock. It cannot be set back.”
 
Thorarinsson goes back to the phone and reports Schmids decision to Lombardy in Fischer's suite. In the mean time, the Islandic Grandmaster Olafsson has been sent to Fischer's hotel, also to try to convince Fischer to come. He found Fischer in a titanic rage, pacing the room back and forth.
 
It is 5:47 when Olafsson himself places a phone call to Lothar Schmid, telling him that the point was reached when only he could save the match: “Speak to Boris, Lothar. Ask him if he will agree to restart the clock.” But Schmid sticks to his decision. “I cannot. Bobby has 12 minutes. I suggest he come.” When Olafson transmitted Schmidt's reply to Fischer, he tore the phone cord out of the wall.
 
At exactly 6:00 p.m., Lothar Schmid steps to the playing table and stops Fischer's clock. With a somber voice, he informs the disappointed audience: “Ladies and Gentleman. Mr. Fischer did not appear in the playing hall. According to Rule Nr. 5 of the Amsterdam Agreement if a player is one hour late, he loses the game by forfeit.”
 
Most of the people involved with the match were in a state of depression. It seemed all over.
 

Thorarinson, the chief organizer of the mach, was in a depressive mood, expecting the match to be over. There was only one thought which raised a little hope. ”Bobby is a fighter. How can he quit with Spassky ahead?”
 
 
Picture and headline in the New York Times
Still, most journalists had made plane reservations to leave the island. The view that Fischer's behaviour was disgraceful was almost held unanimously, even among Americans. Some were apologizing to Icelanders in the name of their country. One US-citizen said: “Fischer is the only guy that gets every American rooting for the Soviet Union.”
 
The events unfolding in Iceland continued to make front-page headlines. The Washington Post wrote that “Fischer had alienated millions of chess enthusiasts around the world.” The New York Times gave extensive coverage to the “stalemate” in Reykjavik, to name only two examples.
 
Bobby Fischer formally protested the forfeit with a long letter to Lothar Schmid delivered by him in person in the early hours of July 14 to Schmid's hotel room. Another of Fischer's lawyers, Andrew Davis, arrived a few hours later from the US to convince members of the Match Committee to overrule Schmid's forfeit-decision. The committee met at 10 a.m. the same day. It upheld the referee's ruling.
 
After this ruling, Fischer asked Fred Cramer, his chief assistant in Reykjavik, to prepare for him to leave Iceland. Shortly afterwards, he holds a reservation for the 3:15 p.m. flight to New York on July 17. Fischer told Cramer: “I want you to pick up those tickets tonight and bring them up here to me. Then I want you to figure out some plan to sneak me out to the plane.They might try to stop me, you know. It has got to be secret.”
 
While all this is going on, Henry Kissinger is in San Clemente, California, involved in several rounds of extensive talks with the Soviet ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin during a US-Soviet summit. At some stage during the day he found the time to place a phone call to Reykjavik 22322, the number to reach Fischer. In addition, many telegrams arrived for Fischer urging him to play on.
 
 
Lothar Schmid (right) during the Spassky-Fischer match in 1972
 
That same day, Fischer had an afternoon meal with an elderly lady, Lina Grumette, that he knew from many years back in California. She later said: “I gave him hell. I told him if he walked out of the match he'd be washed up. He'd be a dirty word everywhere chess was played. Oh, I really laid it into him. He listened very seriously. He didn't say he'd play, but I shook him up and I think he was glad.”
 
On the afternoon of July 15, a wire arrived for Lothar Schmid: “In case of non-appearance Fischer in third game President FIDE decides as follows stop if Fischer for fourth game does not appear match will be concluded and Spassky proclaimed World Champion stop Euwe”
 
It is hard to say what eventually did make the difference. Maybe it was Kissinger's phone call or Lina Grumette's dinner conversation or the content of the telegrams or perhaps a combination of all of these things. His lawyer Paul Marshall later said: “Bobby had the same fear of leaving Iceland as he had of coming to Iceland. When it came to a decision, he was less afraid of playing than he was of the unknown. But make no mistake, he was terrified of playing.”
 
Fischer is known to have made the decision to continue almost at the last minute, sometime early afternoon on Sunday, July 16, the day scheduled for game three. He had earlier asked Cramer to change his reservation to the last plane leaving Reykjavik that day. Around 3 p.m. Cramer knocked on Fischer's door to pick him up for the flight. His second William Lombardy opened the door, Paul Marshall also being in the room, the telegrams being scattered all over.
 
    Fischer: “That two-game edge is gonna make it hard. But I can still do it, you know.”
 
    Marshall: “I know you can, Bobby.”
 
    Fischer: “All right. But you have to get me in that back room.”
 
Marshall acted by phoning Schmid, telling him that Fischer had agreed to play if game 3 was held in a small, thirty-by-sixty foot separate room at the back of the stage without cameras, out of view from the spectators in the main hall. It was normally used for ping-pong. The Amsterdam Agreement, signed by both players, stated that a game could be moved to this room if there was a disturbance in the main hall. But since there was no disturbance, Schmid considered himself to be acting beyond his authority if he simply moved game 3 there. He had to get Spassky's approval. He called the Champion immediately. Spassky said: “Pozhaluista” (That's o.k. with me.) He took the decision without conferring with his team. The team members found out only when they took their seats in the main auditorium. Spassky had felt he had to give Fischer something in return for the free point.
 
Not much later, a few minutes before 5 p.m., Lothar Schmid was in the ping-pong room. It did not contain much more than a chrome and black chair for Fischer and a simple armchair for Spassky as well as a playing table.
 
 
2005: Fischer at the original 1972 Fischer vs Spassky table in Reykjavik
 
Schmid opened a window. The sound of children playing outside could be heard. Spassky arrived shortly afterwards and looked around for Fischer. But he was not there. Spassky sat down at the chessboard. Then Fischer arrived. And his eyes fell immediately on a closed-circuit television camera that had been installed in the ceiling to broadcast the game to the large audience in the main hall, the journalists in the press room and the commentators. It had been wrapped in blankets. The spectators had paid five dollars each, and some of them later complained that there was only a TV-screen instead of the real thing.
 
“No cameras!” Fischer roared. He paced the room back and forth, turning switches on the wall on and off. Schmid asked him to stop since Spassky was being disturbed. “Shut up, Lothar!” Fischer yelled back at Schmid.
 
Spassky turned white and stood up. Schmid later recalled:”When Bobby yelled at me, Boris became upset and said “If you do not stop the quarrel, I will go back to the playing hall and demand to play there.” Spassky had reached the door already. Schmid was panic-stricken. He pleaded with Spassky: ”Boris, you promised.” Spassky shrugged his shoulders. Schmid turned to Fischer: ”Bobby, please be kind.” Schmid recollects:”I felt there was only one chance to get them together. They were two grown-up boys, and I was the older one. I took them both and pressed them by the shoulders down into their chairs and I said: ”Play chess now!” And almost automatically, Spassky made the first move, 1.d4, the same he had played in game 1.”
 
 
Associated Press photo of Fischer
leaving Laugardalsholl Hall after
Spassky resigned Game 3
Fischer initially still contemplated whether to stay or whether to leave. But then at 5:09 he took his king-side knight and put it to f6. His desire to play chess had gained the upper hand. The world championship match had been saved. There was tremendous applause from the spectators in the main hall. The players, though, could not hear it.
 
The events just described constitute the psychologically decisive moment of the entire match. In terms of score, Fischer was two full points behind. In his entire life, he had never beaten Spassky. He had blundered away a drawn position in Game 1. And now he had the black pieces. When he entered that little back-stage room, his face was grey-white almost greenish. But he played that third game for a win virtually from move one onward, introducing an entirely new conception early on. He played that game as if his entire life depended on it. And he won it with very intricate play. It changed the psychology of both players. Fischer had proven to himself that he could beat Spassky. And with black.
 
On January 21, 2007, Boris Spassky came to Bonn to give a simultaneous display. Before the event, he and Lothar Schmid and Dr. Helmut Pfleger talked in front of a large audience about the events and the psychology of the Reykjavik-match. After the event, a small group of people, including Schmid and the author took Spassky to dinner at a local restaurant.
 
I could ask him specifically about the situation before the start of Game 3 in Reykjavik. He mentioned that when Fischer started to quarrel with Schmid and told him to shut-up he should have stood up and said: “Gentlemen, I will not play under these circumstances. I am leaving. You can forfeit me but I am not playing. Fischer would have been in a very difficult psychological position. But I missed this opportunity.”
 
 
    Spassky vs Fischer in Reykjavik 1972
 
Instead, it took Spassky the entire first half of the match to rebuild himself psychologically. At this stage, though, Fischer had obtained a commanding lead already which was virtually impossible to erase. In the second half, the match was balanced and Fischer rode his lead to a 12.5 – 8.5 final result to become the 11th World Chess Champion.