How To Beat An International Chess Master In A Blitz GameHow to Beat an International Chess Master in a Blitz Game
That’s very hard, if not impossible, unless you are a Grandmaster yourself. At the time, in early seventies, I was far from that title, and as the time progressed I got even farther.
If you were an inspiring chess pla
And let me tell you, at the time, or any other time for that matter, the Soviets were number one in the chess world. We called them Russians, what’s the difference. Yugoslavia was second, and whenever you paired top ten Russians against the top ten Yugoslav pla
On the very bottom of that high-reaching, shiny totem pole, a hair above the tallest ant’s back and smelling the African soil, I’d play my ambitious chess game at Slavia. Fortunately, everybody handicapped everybody – these were no free matches, always a wager at hand – so I’d win some and lose some. The Grandmaster Ljubojevic, his *** hurting from the pole’s tip, would play the monk of the shrine, or housekeeper if you prefer, Master Candidate Ferdinand Mrsha thirty seconds vs. three minutes, and so on.
Few months down the line, I decided to up my game level, make some money in the process (and let my pride live happily ever after), so I went on spending ten, twelve hours every single day studying chess theory, mostly openings, so I don’t get knocked out in early rounds. Soon enough, I started playing blitz tournaments (five minutes per pla
On the bright side, and proving the point that if you take enough beating you might get lucky, on one occasion I was playing a blitz tournament somewhere in Belgrade, looking pretty in the middle of the board, when my next opponent turned out to be the tourney’s favorite, my buddy Bobby Kovacevic, who not much later went on to become an International Master and Yugoslav new hope. I was relieved. At last I didn’t feel the pressure to win – how could I, the guy is a rising chess monster – plus I knew I wouldn’t hate him after I lost. You can connect the dots yourself, plus my queen chased his bare king until his flag dropped. A perfect insult to a merrily inflicted injury.