Ever since, world champions have revelled in the aura of eccentricity. GM Tony Miles defined it thus: "You must be a bit cracked to want the world title. After all, anyone bright enough to do that can make more money with far less work."
Does Anand lack that vital spark of world champs?
Ever since, world champions have revelled in the aura of eccentricity. GM Tony Miles defined it thus: "You must be a bit cracked to want the world title. After all, anyone bright enough to do that can make more money with far less work."
Maybe Vishwanathan Anand's palpable lack of eccentricity holds him back. Twice he's been up there to challenge the 'Super-Ks'—Kasparov and Karpov—for the big 'un. Twice he's squandered it.
Because he lacks that vital spark of 'crackedness'. He cares passionately but not insanely.
A spectacular last-game win pulled him into a tie-breaker in Lausanne, but Anand drowned himself in the rapids. Incredible, for his last loss in speed chess was four years ago to Gata Kamsky; he'd demolished Karpov 3-1 in Vienna last year. Besides he has rapid wins against Kasparov and Kramnik. That Kamsky loss was also in a championship cycle tie-break! Carelessness? Once maybe, but twice? With a huge time advantage in Game one? Anand's previous title-contest record too points to a certain vulnerability. One cliffhanger of a 1-2 quarter-final loss to Karpov in '91. A 2-0 lead over Kamsky frittered away in '94. A 4-1 demolition at Kasparov's hands in '95, after leading and missing many later chances.
The summit problems bely his near perfect credentials. World champs win Junior world Titles, and crack the GM title in their teens. Anand's been there, done all that, made a quarter-final at 21.
Initially, he was a one-dimension assault man: like a raw fast bowler feeding on pure pace. In the past seven years he's smoothed out the edges, learnt more opening systems and developed a ken for patient, technical chess—i.e. a skilled all-rounder who can bowl metaphorical pace and spin, attack, defend, probe for tiny errors.
His Elo rating has been soaring since '89 when he turned pro. His '97 results were his best ever: he won 8/10 tourneys, was second in another. The statistics whisper: the Anand of '98 would win two out of three against the Anand of '91. It's not the talent that's missing. Nor is it nervousness—in '89, he coolly remarked: "I'll have to beat both Super-Ks," when asked about title ambitions. Anand has never shown signs of fear or worshipped at any other player's altar.
The lack of nervousness is a pointer to the real flaw. Maybe there aren't enough hormones flowing at crunch time. He's too balanced, not too obsessive. Chess is a wonderful way of earning a living; it isn't life or death to him. Unlike Bobby Fischer and the Super-Ks, he doesn't cry when he loses. He's not liable to land up at Bedlam. The flip side is, that makes him a less likely champion.
Not that Lausanne's Waterloo. At 28, he's still five years from chessplayers' peak. In '98 he gets a fairer shot at the FIDE title vs Karpov. IBM wants a piece of him in Feb. Kasparov wants matches "soon" against Kramnik and Anand. Hormones or not, Anand has more wins (five) against Kasparov than anyone. Including Deep Blue.