The Legendary Walter Browne Strikes Gold in Iceland

Jóhann Þórir Jónsson writes in SKÁK, issue no. 1, 1978.

It has certainly been quite a few years since my friend Sverrir Norðfjörð first told me about an extraordinary man who crushed the Danes at the chessboard so thoroughly that, no doubt, they are still trembling down there. At the time I told the readers of Skák about him, and most of them waited with great excitement for further news of Walter Browne. He was young then and largely unknown, but his performance in Denmark drew attention to him, and that attention has remained ever since. Many wanted to see the youngster, and eventually he came here too, saw, and conquered.

In many ways this remarkable man attracts attention. He can never sit still for a single moment, and he appears to be a major combat player physically as well as mentally. Fischer’s mannerisms, to take one example, are insignificant compared with Browne when he gets going. The spectators were certainly entertained by his behaviour, although the other players were not quite as pleased. He had a distracting effect on everyone around him. Still, there was nothing improper one could accuse him of, and despite everything he won the tournament convincingly.

Browne’s chess style is full of life, and from the spectators’ point of view it did no harm that he was often in what appeared to be hopeless time trouble. Presumably this was partly due to the tournament’s time-control system. It was a novelty and, as far as could be seen, worked well.

The 8th Reykjavík Chess Tournament was held at Hotel Loftleiðir in very suitable surroundings. The hall is admittedly rather cramped for the largest events, but it is by far the most appropriate venue available here. The tournament was conducted like all its predecessors, with one exception. The time limits differed from those previously used. First, 30 moves were played in one hour and 30 minutes, followed by 20 moves per hour. Only after that did the game finally become adjourned.

The main idea behind this was to reduce the number of adjourned games and thereby make the tournament more attractive to spectators. This succeeded, and the spectators were very pleased with the event. The tournament was also in many respects more exciting than previous editions, and this time-control system will undoubtedly gain followers in many parts of the world.

It also helped that more strong and famous players took part than ever before and, more importantly, that the grandmasters actively sought invitations.

As already stated, Walter Browne won the 8th Reykjavík Chess Tournament. Second place went to the young British grandmaster Anthony Miles. He was involved in the fight for first place from the beginning, but in the end had to give way to Browne. Miles is an extremely pleasant young man with a great mass of light, curly hair, and he bears a considerable resemblance to the famous swordsmen of old. His chess style appears calm on the surface, and he especially enjoys following unexplored paths, saying that he does not place much emphasis on opening theory. In any case, Miles gave clear proof of his strength and of what may be expected from him in the future.

After ten rounds Larsen was still leading with eight points, which was indeed an outstanding result. He had lost to Friðrik in the second round and drawn with Øgaard in the seventh and Miles in the tenth. At that stage no one doubted that Larsen would win the tournament. He also held a lead of one and a half points over the next group, consisting of Miles, Browne, Friðrik and Hort. The last three all won in the tenth round.

But things do not always go as expected. Our good friend Bent Larsen had to bow to fate. He lost his final three games and finished a full point behind Browne. I know many people who have been willing to bet on the most improbable things, but none of them would have dared to wager on such an ending for Larsen. Until then he had played with clear superiority and had shown no sign of weakness. His game against Friðrik was a work of art, and few men could have faced Friðrik successfully when he was in such form.

To tell the truth, I am not satisfied with this particular decree of fate, but there is no point arguing with the authority responsible for such matters.

Friðrik, Hort and Lombardy finished level with Larsen on points, although Friðrik had the best tie-break and therefore took third place. Friðrik played with great solidity throughout the tournament and was the only player who did not lose a game.

It is another matter that many regard ten draws as an astonishing result for a player with as colourful and sharp a style as Friðrik’s. Nevertheless, it was an excellent performance.

Lombardy started slowly, with only four points and an adjourned game after nine rounds, but his finishing run was substantial. The endgame lesson he gave Browne will surely find its way into instructional books.

Hort played with his customary weight and solidity, but lost two games, one to Larsen and, much to his greater displeasure, one to Browne. The two warriors had met six times previously, and Hort had won every time. That percentage had undoubtedly become rather high, so sooner or later this had to happen.

Polugaevsky scored 7½ points, but one had undeniably expected more from this famous fighter, and most disappointing of all was the character of his play. It was usually lacking in energy and almost petrified. This was unfortunate, because everyone familiar with him knows that Polu can play extremely entertaining chess and win many games.

Kuzmin was something of an unknown quantity. We had, of course, heard reports of his excellent recent performances in the Soviet Union, but most people did not attach much importance to them once he arrived here. He is, however, a most pleasant man and often reminded me of Jón Kristinsson in his manner. Smejkal was likewise only a shadow of himself, except perhaps in his game against Larsen. Normally Smejkal is a lively player.

The remaining competitors scored less and attracted relatively little attention on this occasion. Still, someone must fill the lower part of the table, and although things turned out this way now, no one can say that history will repeat itself. Helgi, Margeir and Jón L. played many good games and scored fewer points than their play deserved. Helgi admittedly did not win a single game, but he often came close. Margeir brought down the giant himself, and when the game was over Larsen hardly knew what had hit him. Afterward, word spread that Larsen had said earlier in the tournament that Margeir was the most promising player in this part of the world. Margeir naturally had no difficulty thanking him for the compliment. Jón L. played under greater pressure than the others, having only recently become world champion.

J. Þ.