Triumph of a titan

THAT NIGHT at the Shahjahan Hall of Hotel Taj Palace in New Delhi, he was the centre of attraction, as always. There is something magical about this man. One is not talking about Viswanathan Anand's chess alone.

For once, he allowed himself to enjoy a bit in Delhi, at the closing ceremony of the India leg of the World chess championship. There was one factor that he stressed at the party: ``I am still playing a match, remember.''

The job was, of course, only half done at Hotel Hyatt Regency, where the matches upto the semifinals were played. A week later, he finished that job in Teheran and gave India something it is not used to: a World championship, that too in a truly competitive and global sport.

He said after the greatest moment in his life that the feeling was yet to sink in. He wanted this title badly, as did his countrymen. In New Delhi one watched from close quarters how this man is loved by the people of his country. Shah Rukh Khan could not have been a bigger draw.

And there was that moment at Hyatt Regency when a great dream threatened to end abruptly.

The teenager stared at the television screen in disbelief. ``So he is going to lose, isn't he?'' she told her companion in an unmistakable tone of despair and grief. The rest of the people, who crowded before the closed circuit television sets near the hotel's ballroom on that wintry evening, were also reluctantly giving up their hopes.

They were watching the moves of the second tie-break game in the quarterfinal match between Anand and Alexander Khalifman on December 11. The defending champion from Russia looked poised for a win that would knock Anand out of the tournament, killing one billion hopes of a nation.

Inside the ballroom, before a sizeable crowd, the Indian maestro wasn't exactly a picture of confidence in his black T-shirt and trousers, as he looked hard at the board through his spectacles.

Is he going to choke for a third time? It was a disturbing, numbing thought.

And this day was his 31st birthday. How could he lose, after looking so much in command in all his previous matches? How could he lose, when an entire nation, and majority of the chess players the world over want him to be the new World champion? How could he lose, when he is clearly the best in the field?

He could not lose, of course. For India had a tryst with sporting history. Khalifman bailed him out, frittering away a semifinal berth, and relinquishing his crown after a reign of only one year.

Anand survived the greatest scare in his life.

He had a stroke of luck, alright. But then, to win a World championship in a format like this, in which a mistake means death, you require some luck too. ``I was staring at death,'' he admitted when he addressed the media later.

The sigh of relief all around was palpable. The air of gloom had lifted from the media room, and it was replaced by the more pleasant air of expectancy once again. ``No one could stop him now,'' was the general feeling now.

And no one couldn't. Michael Adams tried hard, but failed. Alexei Shirov, tried too hard, and failed miserably.

This was the title nobody could have stopped Anand from winning. Probably not even Vladimir Kramnik, or Garry Kasparov. Because, when you play like a World champion, some day you have actually got to be one. It is no fault of yours that you happen to be the nicest human being that ever moved a piece on the chessboard. Champions are generally supposed to be arrogant, eccentric and egoistic.

Nice guys need not always finish last. It was admirable the way Anand carried the hopes of so many on his shoulders. He did not let them down.

He won the final against Shirov in the most convincing of fashions at Teheran. There were six classical games on offer in the final, but he needed only four of them to annihilate the Latvian-born Spaniard. Anand, after drawing the first game with black pieces, won the next three as Shirov, a marvellous attacking player, went wild on the board, throwing away his pieces.

But he was playing a man who was so determined, so focussed, and so confident. Anand's 3.5-0.5 win made it the shortest match in the history of the World championship. It was also one of the most one-sided victories ever. Only one other man finished a World title match with three successive wins. He was Wilhelm Steinitz of Austria. He did that in 1886, against Johannes Zukerkot, of Polish-Prussian origin, in the first official World championship.

Anand was the odds-on favourite for the final, not just because he is higher rated than the Spaniard, who has won over many fans the world over for his attacking style. ``Shirov doesn't stand a chance,'' said veteran Indian Grandmaster Pravin Thipsay soon after the Spaniard overcame the brilliantly promising Alexander Grischuk, the 17-year-old sensation from Russia, in the semifinals. Not many people would have differed from Thipsay, for Shirov had always found Anand a tough nut to crack; his personal score against the Indian has not been flattering.

But not even Thipsay expected the near whitewash. ``That was incredible, I thought it could be 4-2,'' he said. International Master P. Konguvel, a former National `A' champion from Chennai who remembers looking up wide-eyed at the wunderkind years ago, also felt that he did not expect Anand would crush Shirov like that. ``It's a fantastic performance,'' he said.

Over the last four weeks in New Delhi and Teheran, Anand was indeed fantastic. He remained unbeaten after 20 games, with eight wins. Some of his opponents admitted that he was playing better than ever before. That he had put in a lot of work for the championship was evident in New Delhi. Anand's former team-mate at chess Olympiads, IM Lanka Ravi, said his game was getting stronger day by day. ``Just look how strong positionally he has become now; you could see how perfectly his game has evolved over the years,'' said Ravi from Chennai, delighted at his friend's great victory.

In his very first match he sent out warning signals to his rivals, scoring a brilliant win with white pieces against Victor Bologan in the second game, after drawing with black. He had surprised everyone in the media room, including Grandmasters, with the way he chose to force the win. ``Couldn't you write `brilliance personified' about Anand?'' someone wondered allowed sitting in front of his terminal.

Of course, you could. When you are writing about Anand.

No praise would be too much for the man who is not only the first Indian to become the World chess champion. He is the first man to do it from the world's largest continent, Asia. It is an amazing fact when you have to consider that the World championship is over 114 years old. Mind you, this mind sport was born in Asia, in India to be precise, 14 centuries ago. Anand is the first non- White World chess champion.

As in other walks of life, chess too has been totally dominated by the Europeans, the Russians in particular, after Mikhail Botvinnik became the World champion in 1948. Even years after the disintegration of the erstwhile Soviet Union, Russia still continues to churn out amazing talents. Look at Grischuck.

Anand is only the second non-Russian World champion since 1948. Bobby Fischer, that maverick American who revolutionised the game, was the first. Like the genial genius from Chennai, Fischer too came through not so conclusive of environment for the sport in his country.

Anand's victory makes it a spectacular double for Asia, as Xie Jun had won the World women's title for a fourth time a week before in New Delhi. After her win she had said that she was looking forward to Anand's triumph at Teheran. ``He should win. It would be just great if both the World champions are from our continent. I have always believed we, Asians, could do well in chess, which requires patience and deep thinking,'' said the Chinese.

If China already has a string of strong players to back up Xie Jun, India too is not far away from the day when it will have more high quality players at the top. India, along with China, is the fastest rising power in world chess today, and Anand is singularly responsible for that.

To put Anand's achievement in the right perspective, one has to go back to the history of chess. Beginning with Steinitz, in the late 19th century, there have only been 15 (when you include Kramnik in the list) World champions before him. And in India, there has only been just one player before Anand who made some waves at the highest level - Sultan Khan (1905-1966), whose famous victims included former World champion Jose Raul Capablanca and Savielly Tarkatower. Anand did not have some one like Botvinnik, who coached Anatoly Karpov, Kasparov and Kramnik, to train with.

Is this the greatest moment in the Indian sporting history? One is tempted to think so, without forgetting the golden performances of our hockey teams at the Olympics fashioned by Dhyan Chand, the 1983 cricket World Cup triumph at Lord's, and the many individual milestones, in team sports, of men like Sunil Gavaskar, Sachin Tendulkar, Ramanathan Krishnan and Leander Paes. Though chess may not be a popular sport, it is played throughout the world, and is extremely competitive. This was the third time Anand was challenging the World title. In 1995, in the unofficial, yet widely accepted, PCA final he went down to Kasparov in New York and in 1998, he was beaten more by a stupid system than an ageing Karpov in Lausanne. While Anand came through a punishing knock-out format from Groningen, Karpov had not played a single game. In 1994 at Sanghi Nagar, he had lost in the FIDE Candidates quarterfinals to Gata Kamsky, blowing a comfortable lead.

Anand, blessed with an astounding memory, strikes like lightning on the board. He takes only minutes, where others hours to decide over his moves, according to English GM and writer, Raymond Keene. He is a universal player with a remarkable understanding of the most complex of positions.

He learnt the game at the age of six from his mother, Sushila Viswanathan. ``I never felt happier in my life when my son called me up from Teheran soon after the fourth game,'' she said over telephone from Chennai. ``I think in his present form, he could beat anyone,'' she added.

He soon caught the attention of the local chess players at Chennai's Tal Chess Club. ``He used to play with his startling speed even when he was a small kid,'' recalled T. S. Ravi, his contemporary. `` He would beat the experienced players at Tal quite com-fortably.'' He became the first Asian to win the highly competitive World junior chess championship in 1987, and the same year, he became India's first Grandmaster. In 1992, he won the Reggio Emilia tournament, the strongest event ever held till that time. He was getting ready to be a contender for the ultimate title in chess.

The crown has finally come to him. No one would dare call him just a FIDE World champion (the way they used to call Khalifman).

Let us celebrate this great moment. We may have to wait long for another occasion like this in Indian sport.

As Thipsay said, we should give him something back for everything he has done for us. Let us make him feel like a King when he is with us in India now.

P. K. AJITH KUMAR

Kozhikode

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