Marathon of the Masters

By Sara C. Medina

Whoever it is who keeps the annals of sport should make a new entry in the chapter on fabled rivalries. No two chess masters have ever played each other so many times in such a short period as Gary Kasparov and Anatoly Karpov: an extraordinary 96 games during the past two years. When they finished last week, Kasparov had won the latest match and, by a single point, the entire series.

The marathon began in Moscow in September 1984, when the athletic, aggressive Kasparov, then 21, challenged the meticulous end-gamesman Karpov, then 33, world champion for the nine previous years and cynosure of the Soviet chess establishment. The match was played under revised rules, scoring only for victories, not draws. Five months and a record 48 games later, with Karpov leading 5-3 but faltering, the head of the World Chess Federation called off the contest, claiming that both antagonists were exhausted. Kasparov, having won the previous two games and the momentum, charged that he had been robbed. Seven months later they started anew under the old rules allowing half a point for a draw and a limit of 24 games. This time Kasparov's electrifying but uneven play was under better control. Still, the lead changed two times before the challenger pulled ahead and won last November, 13-11, to become history's youngest world champion.

The latest rematch, which began in July and moved from London to Leningrad after twelve games, was at first a romp for Kasparov. After 16 games, he was three wins ahead and seemed so assured of victory that some visiting grand masters packed up and left for home. Suddenly Karpov, drawing on a hidden reserve of strength and taking advantage of blunders by Kasparov, won three games in a row to pull even, 9 1/2-9 1/2. It was an unprecedented string of victories so late in a championship match. "Kasparov is cracking," wrote Vladimir Pimonov, analyst for a Soviet chess journal. "He's fallen victim to the same problem that has plagued him in the past: overconfidence."

But Karpov then erred, taking a time-out that gave his opponent a chance to recover. When play resumed five days later, Kasparov, following the custom of changing garb after a defeat, was wearing a new, light-gray suit, and confidently played to a draw that broke Karpov's run. Because he could retain his title with a tie, Kasparov had merely to draw the next three games. But caution is not his style, and he attacked in the first part of Game 22. The next day a rapt Leningrad audience watched as officials revealed the move Kasparov had decided on before adjournment the previous evening: a knight's assault on the king. The crowd rose and cheered as they realized that the tactic almost certainly guaranteed victory. The last two games were draws, making the final score 12 1/2-11 1/2. Last week after the 23rd game, when Karpov's defeat had become inevitable, the two men shook hands and chatted briefly. It was the first public show of warmth between them in their two long years of battle. --By Sara C. Medina. Reported by Nancy Traver/Moscow

With reporting by Nancy Traver/Moscow