Good one. Sparky video. Bye, bobby, good bye, you wrote a great book. Sad you were so used. Thank you. [...] "The United States is evil. There's this axis of evil. What about the allies of evil -- the United States, England, Japan, Australia? These are the evildoers," Fischer said. 2008 - https://investorshub.advfn.com/boards/read_msg.aspx?message_id=26108444
How a high IQ, a focus on a perfectionist dream, and a susceptibility to God and conspiracy can make a life difficult.
Bobby Fischer, Troubled Genius of Chess, Dies at 64
Boris Spassky and Mr. Fischer, right, met at the XIX World Chess Olympiad in Siegen, Germany, in 1970. Heinz Ducklau/Associated Press
By Bruce Weber Jan. 19, 2008
Bobby Fischer, the Chicago-born, Brooklyn-bred genius who became one of the greatest chess players the world has ever seen, died on Thursday in Reykjavik, Iceland. He was 64.
For decades he had lived in obscurity, ultimately settling in Reykjavik after renouncing his American citizenship.
[...]
In 1992, he came out of a long seclusion for a $5 million rematch against his old nemesis, the Russian-born grandmaster Boris Spassky. The match, in Yugoslavia, commemorated the 20th anniversary of the two men’s monumental meeting in Reykjavik and Mr. Fischer’s most glorious triumph.
Mr. Fischer won the rematch handily, but it was a sad reprise of their face-off in the summer of 1972.
In that earlier encounter, Mr. Fischer wrested the world championship from the elegant Mr. Spassky to become the first and, as yet, only American to win the title, one that Soviet-born players had held for 35 years. It was the cold war fought with chess pieces in an out-of-the-way place.
Mr. Fischer won with such brilliance and dramatic flair that he became an unassailable representative of greatness in the world of competitive games, much as Babe Ruth had been and Michael Jordan would become.
“It was Bobby Fischer who had, single-handedly, made the world recognize that chess on its highest level was as competitive as football, as thrilling as a duel to the death, as aesthetically satisfying as a fine work of art, as intellectually demanding as any form of human activity,” Harold C. Schonberg, who reported on the Reykjavik match for The New York Times, wrote in his 1973 book “Grandmasters of Chess.”
The rematch 20 years later drew no such plaudits. By participating, Mr. Fischer defied an American ban on conducting business in Yugoslavia as it waged war on Bosnia. After dispatching Mr. Spassky, Mr. Fischer dropped out of sight again, partly to avoid arrest on American charges stemming from his appearance. He stayed in touch with a dwindling number of friends in the United States by phone, compelling them to keep his secrets or risk his rejection.
In 2004, he was seized by the Japanese authorities when he tried to board a plane to Manila and accused of trying to leave the country on an invalid passport. He was detained in prison for nine months while the various governments and his supporters in the chess world tried to resolve the issue.
In 1999, in a series of telephone interviews with a radio station in the Philippines, he rambled angrily and profanely about an international Jewish conspiracy, which he said was bent on destroying him personally and the world generally.
On Sept. 11, 2001, he told a radio talk-show host in Baguio, the Philippines, that the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were “wonderful news.” He wished for a time, he said, “where the country will be taken over by the military, they’ll close down all the synagogues, arrest all the Jews and execute hundreds of thousands of Jewish ringleaders.”
Even in his years of triumph, Mr. Fischer was volatile and difficult. During the 1972 world championship match against Mr. Spassky, Mr. Fischer’s petulance, even loutishness, was the stuff of front page headlines all over the globe. Incensed by the conditions under which the match was to be played — he was particularly offended by the whir of television cameras in the hall — he lost the first game, then forfeited the second and insisted that the remaining games be played in an isolated room.
[...]
Trouble With Celebrity
Mr. Fischer’s victory was widely seen as a symbolic triumph of democracy over communism, and it turned the new champion into an unlikely American hero. He was invited to the White House by President Richard M. Nixon, interviewed on television, wooed unsuccessfully by commercial interests. Sales of chess sets skyrocketed; so did fees for chess lessons.
But Mr. Fischer was incapable of sustaining himself in the limelight, and by the beginning of 1973, he had withdrawn into the weird, contrarian solitude he maintained more or less for the rest of his life. He turned down huge financial offers to play, among them a bid of $1.4 million from the Hilton Corporation to defend his title in Las Vegas. The dictator Ferdinand Marcos of the Philippines and the Shah of Iran offered even larger sums for matches in their countries. Mr. Fischer said the money was not enough.
At the same time, he tithed to the Worldwide Church of God, a fringe church he had become involved with beginning in the early 1960s. (He later abandoned it.) For a time, Mr. Fischer lived in Pasadena, Calif., the church’s home base, or in Los Angeles, where he was said to spend his time replaying chess games and reading Nazi literature. There were reports that he was destitute, though the state of his finances was never clear.