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Moscow, the year 1936. The warm days of the Third Moscow International…
Late evening, after a round of the tournament, a group of Soviet and international participants from the event were seated in the restaurant of the Hotel National. Masters who had gained worldwide fame in chess battles were discussing the theoretical novelties of the day, giving their impressions of the play of their opponents, arguing and joking.
I sat down at a table, where José Raúl Capablanca was seated on his own. Since my youth I had harboured feelings of chess sympathy for this master of genius, and I always played through his games with pleasure. He was one of the first foreign players - while then World Champion - to break the ‘chess blockade’ of the USSR and came to our country in order to take part in the 1st Moscow International of 1925.
The Cuban was in a melancholy mood. On the following day he had to play against Doctor Emanuel Lasker. It is well known that although he had taken title of World Champion from the hands of Lasker, he did not like to meet his old opponent at the board.
I held a ‘non-chess’, abstract conversation with Capablanca… Time passed, and soon the hall became empty. I accompanied Capa to his room, where the following dialogue occurred:
- “Tomorrow you will play against Lasker?”
- “Yes. I have Black. You yourself must understand, that only a draw is possible.
- “That’s a shame! I think that you are wrong to avoid a fight. In the Moscow tournament of 1935 Lasker won against you. For the old man the present tournament is clearly the last one of his life. It would not be good were it written in the history of chess that in the final encounter of these two great chessplayers, Capablanca had to be satisfied with a draw.
Capablanca was silent. We went into the room. On the table was a chess board. The former World Champion unexpectedly said:
- “But what opening is there to play against the old Doctor? The move …e7-e5 is impossible, in order not to repeat the mistakes of Petersburg, 1914. And I will not play the French Defence.
- “Perhaps, the Sicilian? As far as I recall, you play it beautifully, while it seems to me that Lasker does not like this opening for White, since he himself prefers the Sicilian for Black.
Capablanca was already seated at the board, and he made some of the first opening moves.
- “It’s funny. But I have completely forgotten the Sicilian.”
I showed him a few of the main branches and variations from the practice of recent tournaments. To my great astonishment, Capablanca did not protest. On the contrary, he immediately became serious and concentrated: he put on his glasses, then posed questions, analysed, and critiqued.
- “No, no! I will not play your Sicilian Defence.
I understood that Capablanca wanted to be left alone; I said goodbye and left.
On the following day the Hall of Columns of the House of Unions, which can accommodate more than 2000 spectators, was overflowing.
All of the lights in the hall were illuminated. After a short time a bell rang out, heralding the start of play. Doctor Lasker was already seated at the board, as always with his legs crossed. His lively, deeply insightful eyes gazed attentively and warily. With a habitual movement of the hand, Lasker placed the king’s pawn two squares forward and, without hurrying, pressed the clock. Then he lit a cigar.
2-3 minutes passed. Play on the other boards had already begun, but Capa was still not there. Was he really getting ready for the game? This was so unlike him!
But then Capablanca appeared, as always, charming and friendly. He quickly played his first move. The Sicilian! Pressing the clock, Capablanca bowed in apology for being late. Lasker nodded his head affirmatively: he was clearly perfectly satisfied with the explanation. Then Capablanca excused himself to the Chief Arbiter of the tournament.
I could hardly hide my curiosity and excitement, when following the demonstration board over which there hung the lettering ‘LASKER-CAPABLANCA’. What could we expect from this game? A storm, or a grandmaster draw?
After making his moves quickly, Capablanca suddenly got up, came towards me and greeted me, but did not say a single word. His face was unperturbed.
And only after the 9th move did the Cuban stare hard at me from afar, catching my eye and barely blinking… Another two or three moves were played. Capablanca was in fine form, playing with great force and inspiration. Lasker, that finest of chess psychologists, had clearly not expected such activity on the part of his opponent, whose character he had seemingly studied to perfection for 25 years.