The Centenary Memorial Tournament

To commemorate the 100th anniversary of the unification of Buda, Pest and Óbuda, the Budapest Physical Education and Sports Association and the Budapest Chess Federation organized a chess tournament. After the two Liberation tournaments held in 1965 and 1970, this was the third major international event organized by the BTS and the BSzSz. One of its aims was to raise Hungarian chess life to a higher level and enrich its content.

Securing a sufficiently strong field — especially with regard to the Élő rating points which in recent years had become FIDE’s measure of strength — was a major task. Representatives of the Soviet Chess Federation had promised five grandmasters, and four Soviet international grandmasters eventually took part, among them two — or rather three — who belonged to the ranks of the super-grandmasters. This was very important, because it should be remembered that Western and Yugoslav grandmasters appear relatively rarely in tournaments organized in Eastern Europe, and without Soviet grandmasters such events are doomed to failure.

For a long time it seemed that the tournament’s success would also be ensured by the news that Boris Spassky, the Soviet special guest, would make his first international tournament appearance after Reykjavík here. Ultimately, however, Spassky entered the simultaneously held “Tallinn 1973” tournament. His place in the Soviet quintet was taken by Anatoly Karpov, a hope for the future, who in the opinion of many — if circumstances develop favourably — may become the next challenger to the present World Champion, Robert Fischer.

Apart from the Tallinn tournament, several smaller and larger Spanish and Yugoslav tournaments, the traditional Dutch event at Wijk aan Zee, and the World Junior Championship beginning at the same time all made it difficult to complete the field. For this reason Grandmaster Lajos Portisch, who would have been the strongest Hungarian opponent for the foreign grandmasters, unfortunately did not start.

In the final days before the tournament, after several telephone consultations, FIDE finally classified the event as Category XI. This was what mattered most to the organizers and to us, since the international grandmaster norm was 9 points.

The hopes attached to the tournament are shown in the accompanying table. Let us now briefly follow the course of the event.

Already the first round produced several high-class and exciting games. In two games one side was, for a time, fighting with a rook advantage. In the most difficult game of the tournament, a drawn struggle, the designated victim Rafik Vaganian first sacrificed a pawn, then an exchange, and finally a piece in order to shake Ciocâltea’s castled position. Ciocâltea, who had overplayed his hand in the Malaysian tournament, had chosen Budapest. In time trouble Vaganian sacrificed every piece of material he could; then on the following day, in the adjourned game, helped also by his opponent’s time trouble, he forced the win.

Grandmaster Szabó also began with a win against Bilek, who had almost obtained the advantage when Szabó, accepting a material disadvantage, changed the direction of the battle. Far-advanced passed pawns — and probably opposite rooks — gave him the initiative for a while, and after a few further steps he might even have won. After several mistakes, Bilek managed to restore equality by returning the material advantage and saved half a point. Perhaps this very shock contributed to Bilek playing the rest of the tournament in a narrower, more defensive spirit and becoming the “draw king”.

Grandmaster Geller systematically squeezed his opponent over the whole board, then increased his positional advantage by sacrificing the exchange and defeated Csom, for whom the pairing had not been favourable this time. Just as Keres in 1970, the later tournament winner here too began against Geller. Sax defeated Forintos after attractive complications, and although later he played in a somewhat less concrete manner — perhaps his fighting mood did not work? — he still succeeded, by exploiting his material advantage, in taking revenge for his defeat in the most recent Hungarian Championship.

Thus half of the games ended decisively, which was a favourable sign for a high-level grandmaster tournament.

The same was repeated in the second and third rounds. Vaganian continued his winning streak: in the second round, in the longest game of the tournament — a 104-move game adjourned twice — he “tortured” Lengyel in an objectively drawn rook ending. Lengyel had suffered a broken arm a week earlier and was unfortunate throughout the tournament. Karpov, for whom the event formed part of the western section of his tournament career, won a textbook game against Hort. From a French Defence, with an exchange sacrifice, he first maintained an isolated d-pawn, then a “bad bishop”, and later the fashionable advantage of knight over bishop, all the way into the ending.

Adorján obtained an entirely worthless position against Sax, who unfortunately did not know the article published in issue 27 of “64” on 27 June 1972. Hecht defeated Forintos, who had been struggling with poor form for a long time. In the third round Vaganian prepared against his clubmate, Antosin, the coach of the Soviet men’s team. In one game there was again a battle with a rook advantage. This time the material advantage was enough to win. In a turbulent game, Adorján’s mutual sacrifices brought the tournament Forintos’s third defeat. Szabó defeated the great attacker Velimirović with his own weapon, deciding the game by an attack on the kingside. Hort, with a fine victory, avenged his defeat of the previous day against Hecht. Thus Vaganian had overcome a dangerous rival, Adorján moved half a point ahead of him, and behind them followed a larger group a further half-point back.

From the fifth round onward Grandmaster Efim Geller advanced strongly, almost programmatically winning with White and drawing with Black. Unfortunately, among his victims in the fifth round was also Grandmaster Szabó. In the fourth round the number of draws increased; only Csom defeated the indisposed Lengyel, although some of the draws too were produced after interesting and substantial struggles. From the fifth round onward Vaganian no longer won, while Forintos no longer lost — until the final round. In the sixth round five players won; then in the seventh there were two wins, and in the eighth — watched also by comrades János Kádár, Béla Biszku, Dr. Sándor Beckl and Zoltán Szépvölgyi — three victories were recorded.

But not only the decisive games were interesting. In the seventh round, in the game Ribli–Vaganian, the Hungarian master obtained two pieces for a rook on move 23 after a fantastic exchange combination, and on move 35 failed to notice that the ending also contained a combinational possibility: by another exchange sacrifice he could have set his passed pawn in motion. The game was drawn. In the eighth round Antosin fared even worse: in an excellently conducted game with two exchange sacrifices he could almost have won against Hort, but the stubbornly defending Czechoslovak grandmaster escaped into an ending a pawn down, and there the Soviet player — in time trouble — mated himself. With logical conclusions, these two games would have been ornaments of the tournament.

After the first half of the tournament, following the eighth round, the order at the top was: Geller 6, Vaganian 5.5, and Adorján, Hort, Karpov, Ribli and Szabó with 5 each.

From this part of the tournament comes Geller’s lightning victory over Hecht. The game shows that it was no accident that Geller was Spassky’s second in Reykjavík: he knows thoroughly the opening systems that occurred there. At the same time it shows how correct Fischer’s match strategy was in not repeating the same variation throughout the match. This is what would have awaited him had the 19th game been repeated.

In the second half of the tournament the situation at the top did not change much. Geller securely maintained his lead. The others seemed to have resigned themselves to the fact that the Soviet grandmaster, who 21 years earlier, at the 1952 Maróczy Memorial Tournament, had obtained the title of international grandmaster, would repeat his Budapest success. In the twelfth round he also defeated Adorján, who had only with difficulty recovered from his defeat against Karpov two rounds earlier. Up to that point Adorján, with “plus three”, that is, three wins above 50%, had achieved the grandmaster standard; after those two defeats he needed 2.5 points from his last three games. After a draw against Szabó, he managed to defeat Ciocâltea in a difficult 72-move rook ending, and in the final round he quickly drew with Lengyel.

The tournament was characterized throughout by difficult struggles, which for precisely that reason often led only to draws. Both sides, under the almost unbearable pressure of necessity, retreated almost move by move, voluntarily yielded not a foot of ground, allowed the opponent no initiative, and any temporary advantage on one part of the board was immediately counterbalanced on another front.

According to the statistical data of László Molhácsi, who directed the tournament with his usual thoroughness, of the 120 games White won 31, or 26%; Black won 12, or 10%; and 77 games, or 64%, were drawn. The average number of moves per game was 36, and the average thinking time was 4 hours 08 minutes, which shows that there was no lack of fighting.

Here is one such fighting draw, which interrupted Vaganian’s winning streak.

Geller deservedly won the tournament undefeated with 10.5 points. His theoretical knowledge is versatile and modern; in the most instructive way he demonstrated the higher-level grandmaster strategy which, move by move and step by step, gradually restricts the opponent. He gives no counter-chances and patiently, prudently realizes his long-term plans. In exploiting a strategic advantage he is firm and assured.

Karpov, who took second place with 9.5 points, sought to implement roughly the same method of combat. But when the position became dynamic, he became cautious, made mistakes several times, and failed to convert into a technical, advantageous ending. His games against Lengyel and Csom are examples. An American writer compared him to a prehistoric snake, which does not strike but destroys its opponent in a deadly embrace. This time, however, the comparison applied rather more to Geller.

Places 3–6, all with 8.5 points, were shared by Vaganian, an original and inventive but not yet fully mature player; Hort, for whom — having stepped in at the last moment for Smejkal, who withdrew because of his wife’s operation — this was his fourth consecutive drawn tournament performance, and who distinguished himself mainly by his tenacious defence of difficult positions, though he often complained of fatigue; and Szabó, who began well, in a colourful and enterprising style, but whose momentum was broken by illness.

Among the young Hungarian grandmaster candidates, András Adorján was the most successful this time. His great theoretical knowledge and imagination were combined with more fighting spirit than usual. It is characteristic that he even rejected Geller’s draw offer. His result is all the more pleasing because throughout the tournament he struggled with stomach troubles. If he continues to compete in this manner, the grandmaster title, which he is already brushing against, will not keep him waiting long.

The last two prize-winning places were taken by István Bilek and Antosin. Of the first two, only Bilek remained unbeaten; his sole victory was wrested from the too vehemently attacking Velimirović. As Antosin said when answering a question before a simultaneous display, there is more in Bilek than he showed in this tournament. Antosin, the coach of the Soviet team, competes little; his lack of practice showed itself in time trouble and in the spoiling of good positions.

The list of non-prize-winners is headed by István Csom with 7.5 points, exactly 50%. He played out most of his games, except for one or two friendly salon draws, but fell short of the expected result. Ribli, with 7 points, finished tenth. A theoretically well-educated and experienced player, he is capable of surprising, original solutions in every phase of the game — but, unfortunately to his own detriment, he plays annoyingly fast. “Sit on your hands!” Tarrasch advised a similarly quick-handed chess player. Above all, Ribli himself must decide why he does not delve more deeply into positions: whether he cannot stand the tension, trusts his instincts too much, or whether there are other reasons.

Ciocâltea finished eleventh with 6.5 points; in every game he bravely took up the fight, but often fell into time trouble. The example of the Yugoslav master Velimirović shows that the field was indeed very strong. In almost no game — perhaps with the exception of his win against Ribli — did he succeed in creating one of his dangerous attacks. At this level, forcing an attack through sacrifices and purely tactical means is ineffective if strategic and positional preparation is lacking. A rather similar shortcoming can be noted in Sax, who also believes in combinational, tactical solutions. While searching for such solutions, however, he often fell into completely unrealistic, almost crazy time trouble.

The persistent poor form of Forintos and Lengyel is worrying. Forintos remained unbeaten and had a won position in one game; Lengyel’s subtle strategy this time lacked its usual breakthrough force.

Should the participation of the Hungarian players in the Centenary Tournament be considered a success or a failure? This question often arose after the tournament, both among chess players and among ordinary chess friends and spectators. According to the Élő points, which are supposed to explain everything, the Hungarian performance more or less met expectations. Against the strong foreign players, a score of 36.5:27.5 was expected, and the result achieved was even slightly better. A larger points deficit appeared only in Forintos’s case — 1.5 points — but this was offset by Adorján’s 2-point surplus.

Even so, we must agree with the general secretary of the Soviet Chess Federation, Viktor Baturinsky — who came to Budapest at the end of the tournament as a guest of the BTS — when he said that he had expected greater impetus from the young Hungarian players. That impetus was lacking above all because of the large number of mutual, often bloodless draws. The draw was also unfavourable, since the Hungarians were largely paired against one another in the first half of the tournament and did not much follow the example of the Soviet players: Vaganian defeated Antosin, Karpov defeated Vaganian, and Geller tortured Karpov for five hours. Quick draws do indeed mean extra rest days, but they also bring the disadvantage to which Botvinnik referred in connection with Petrosian: one begins to spare oneself, because one is not accustomed to playing every game with maximum tension and to engaging in a sufficiently profound struggle; in the long run this leads to a decline in the nervous system’s capacity for work.

Misunderstood friendly relations, poorly handled nervous tension and the avoidance of struggle are not, however, the only causes to which agreed draws can be attributed. Various qualification and tournament systems, the players’ age, living conditions and dependence on results contribute at least as much to the spread of draws as the factors mentioned above. But that may be the subject of another article.

Until we write that article — if we ever do — let us record that the Centenary Tournament was a worthy commemoration of our capital’s anniversary. An average of four interesting, substantial games per round would still suffice for most grandmaster tournaments of our time. It rightly achieved greater public and financial success than expected, proving that high-level chess has an ever-growing body of supporters in our country.

Tibor Flórián