2010
Russell Enterprises, Inc.
Milford, CT USA
Tal-Botvinnik 1960
Match for the World Chess Championsip
by Mikhail Tal
Copyright ©
1970, 1972, 1976, 1996, 2000, 2003 2010
Hanon W. Russell
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Front Cover: On the front, facing each other as kings of chess, Mikhail Botvinnik (left) and Mikhail Tal. Tal is shown at about the age that his great adversary was during their match. Back Cover: Tal is shown two years after his victory, a young world champion with a wide grin for the world.
Cover design by Out Excel! Corp., Al Lawrence, President; Jami Anson, Art Director. The publisher wishes to express its thanks to Glenn Petersen, editor of Chess Life and the United States Chess Federation for permission to reprint the photographs contained in this book.
From the Author
Before the Match
Game 1
Game 2
Game 3
Game 4
Game 5
Game 6
Game 7
Game 8
Game 9
Game 10
Game 11
Game 12
Game 13
Game 14
Game 15
Game 16
Game 17
Game 18
Game 19
Game 20
Game 21
In the spring of 1960, two Soviet chessplayers again met each other in the match for the championship of the world. This time, I played the role of challenger.
I will not hide the fact that it was very flattering that the world championship match between Botvinnik and me aroused great interest among chessplayers. All the match games were analyzed in detail in the pages of the press. Grandmaster Ragozin headed the remarkable analysts who, soon after the finish of the duel, published books about the match. To add something to their variations is a problem which is by no means easy.
But this author has not tried to do that. His goal was not to discover some move in the struggle through the eyes of a detached spectator, but to try to give the personal feelings, thoughts, agitation, and disappointments of a direct participant in the combat. Let the reader not complain that, in this book, he will not see Tal, figuratively speaking, in a starched white shirt and tie, but in his working clothes; I will relate the story of the match, basically, from the beginning of this intense duel.
Of course, such a book might be, to a certain extent, one-sided. I therefore placed before myself one goal - to reveal to the reader, in detail, the dialectical developmental process of a chess game, beginning with the opening. A book this size does not permit me to give an opening manual, and in fact, such would be beyond the scope of this endeavor.
Each game is prefaced with a small introduction, in which I discuss the attitude before the game, or go in for a small lyrical digression, sharing my thoughts that I had at the time of the match.
Mikhail Tal
Riga
September, 1960
The cherished dream of every chessplayer is to play a match with the world champion. But here is the paradox: the closer you come to the realization of this goal, the less you think about it. At the very beginning of my creative path I mentally depicted my meeting with Botvinnik more than once. Botvinnik – the hero of our generation, on whose games and labors more than one Pleiad of Soviet chessplayers has been nurtured. Later, this goal became less of a dream as I became a member of the large group of participants who were to play a series of tournaments leading to the right to play a match with the world champion. However, “current affairs” somehow pushed these “sweet dreams” into the background. Curiously enough, at the time of the Candidates Tournament, I did not find myself once dreaming those dreams which until recently had seemed so forbidden. But the tournament ended, I had succeeded in taking first place and had earned the right to play the match.
It then would seem that there was not a minute to lose before preparations for the match should begin. Far from it. My nervous reaction after that marathon tournament had been so great that I was in no condition to think about the match, or for that matter, any serious chess work. And there was not much time before the beginning of the match – less than six months. Rather than venturing it myself, Alexander Koblents and I began the business of discussing the problems of preparation for the most important event in my life.
Until that time, I had considered myself, and not without reason, among the ranks of tournament chessplayers – I had only had one occasion to play an actual match (that was in 1954, when I, to tell the truth, really did not imagine that it was necessary to prepare for such a contest). Therefore I was completely unfamiliar with the specific character of this type of competition.
Nevertheless, there exists a huge difference between tournament and match play. First of all, to express it coarsely, there is the bookkeeping. While in a tournament a participant is not bound by his point showing – at least in the first part of the tournament – and can venture the luxury of “staying up late” at the start, each match game is equally important. You see, in a match there are no other competitors, no outsiders and a chessplayer cannot plan in advance from whom he will win without fail, with whom a draw will be sufficient and (as often happens!) to whom it will not be shameful to lose. The cost of each point in a match in comparison with a tournament grows twofold: if one chessplayer wins, then his rival automatically loses, and therefore match games always evoke a greater feeling of responsibility.
Matches have their own psychological character. If in the Candidates Tournament, I became weary meeting one and the same opponent four times (and this was after an interval of seven rounds!), then what is to be said about a match, in which I would meet the same chessplayer day in and day out? This is even more taxing.
Finally, the problem of preparing for a match is also significantly more difficult. I have not yet mentioned that my opponent was an unsurpassed master of home preparation. If I often employed risky variations, it may have worked out in a tournament; if I put my hopes on some risky opening adventure in a match, my bluff was certain to be called.
In a word, I had comparatively little time in which to study the “ABCs” of match play, while my opponent, in the last ten years, had defended his “Championship Dissertation” only in this milieu. And, actually, when we began to go over games played by Botvinnik since he had won the title of world champion (1948), it did not take much to convince us that the overwhelming majority of them were played in title matches, in which he had three times defended his title, and once recovered it.
I was often chided for the fact that only one month after the conclusion of the Candidates Tournament, I entered the First International Tournament at Riga (and it was extremely unimportant). Here I must frankly admit that this appearance was also one of the ingredients of my preparation for the match. Chess fans, probably, focused their attention on the fact that in the majority of my games in this tournament, I turned out to be on the defensive, sometimes right from the opening. Inasmuch as defense has always been my “Achilles’ Heel,” I did not treat it lightly. In all fairness, it must be noted that the pace was set by the two winners of the tournament, Boris Spassky and Vladas Mikenas; their results at the end were so impressive, that I, at no time in this competition, saw any possibility of being their equal.
However, be that as it may, my trainer and I were fairly satisfied with the creative results of the tournament. And besides, this small, pleasant tournament in Riga, in my opinion, was an extremely valuable tension reliever. It is interesting to note that I felt less tired after the tournament than I did before it. At the same, I had begun my preparation for the forthcoming match in earnest.
It is customary to consider that preparation for each competition is divided into three elements: (1) a chess element (basically the openings); (2) a psychological element; and (3) a physical element.
The analysis of innovations by Soviet and foreign theoreticians enters into the first element – a new search, a better continuation in this or that opening variation. The psychological element includes primarily a detailed analysis of the games of the future opponent, full comprehension of his strengths and weaknesses and perception of his manner, or as is commonly called, his style of play. Physical preparation, it seems to me, lies not solely in the realm of chess. But we gave fundamental consideration to physical preparation that would give me better chances of having a fresh mind in such a tiring match, rather than generating two suitcases of theoretical novelties.
However, due to general fatigue, it turned out that I was not in any condition to sharpen any opening edges anyway. Therefore, we did not spend too much time preparing the openings. I, understandably, felt during the match that I could not be satisfied with my results in the initial stages in many games. But there were also advantages - from the outset of the first game, I felt “hungry” for chess, and what is even more important, right to the beginning of the 21st game, I never felt too “full.”
Nevertheless, of course, we spent a considerable amount of time over the chessboard. As far as the openings were concerned, our basic problem was to “find our own level” so that I would be spared from having to “re-invent the wheel” during the match. Basically, it did not seem necessary to us that my opening repertoire had to be changed.
First of all, I had tried the possibility of varying openings in tournaments, especially with White and also in defense of 1 d4. In any case, we examined several systems, except for the Sicilian Defense, which I almost always use in answer to 1 e4. I say “in any case,” because Botvinnik, in his preceding matches, had not opened once with his e-pawn. The last time in any competition for the world championship that he did so was in a game with Reshevsky in 1948, after he had already secured first place. And in the tournaments in which Botvinnik had occasionally participated, he, as a rule, played d4 or c4 on the first move, venturing 1 e4 only with those opponents who seemed to be relatively weaker. And a sharp reorganization actually cannot help in the course of a struggle, since it is understood that it takes a while to become accustomed to positions encountered for the first time in tournament practice.
So there they were, our opening plans. For Black – to perfect the systems formerly employed by me in closed openings, and for White – basically to examine the variations employed by Botvinnik in answer to 1 e4, which I intended to play from the very beginning.
We focused most of our attention on analyzing the games of Botvinnik. I will not hide the fact that this was not an easy task. First of all, it was not easy because the majority of the world champion’s games were already well-known and the quality of play – the harmony of logical conceptions, the strict consistency in the realization of a plan, the ability to impose his style of play on his opponent, the irreproachable endgame technique – this was also quite familiar to us.
Botvinnik’s rare entrance into competitions recently also played a role. It is true that, as a rule, these appearances were rather successful. In the last five years, Botvinnik, except for his world championship matches, had participated in the Olympiades in Amsterdam, Moscow and Munich, where he attained good results, losing only one game. To his credit, the world champion did share first place in the Moscow International and won a small tournament in Holland. He likewise had participated in the People’s Spartakiad of the USSR. That probably was all. On the basis of these games it was necessary to come to a conclusion about the contemporary Botvinnik.
We were convinced that my future opponent had not recently gone in for any voluntary intensification of a struggle, and in those cases when he was caught up in a combinational “storm,” he was less sure of himself. If he obtained a position in the opening in which he had the initiative, then his opponent, under pressure, could only hope for a miracle, and this occurred very, very rarely. The discovery was made that in many games, Botvinnik would agree to a minimal edge in the endgame, which as a rule, would lead to success thanks to his highly polished technique.
But the most important conclusion at which we arrived in examining all of his games might have been that during a game, Botvinnik gives most of his consideration to strategic questions, not being distracted by different tactical variations. This can be both a plus (consistency in the realization of a plan) and a minus, since in several positions his underestimation of the tactics showed considerably in his results. For example, in several games in his match with Vasily Smyslov, in particular in the eighth game of the 1957 match, and the eleventh and twenty-second games of the return match. Also it was seen in Botvinnik-Gurgenidze in the People’s II Spartakiad of the USSR, when though Botvinnik had restricted his opponent according to all rules of chess strategy, he was not able to realize the advantage which he had obtained; all that had been required was some sharp tactical play. In this respect, his games with foreign chessplayers seemed less significant, since in many of the encounters where he had strategic superiority, this was fully sufficient to bring home the full point. These were, then, probably all the conclusions which we were able to draw from the world champion’s games.
We drew some interesting conclusions from statistics. In particular, Botvinnik had lost only two games in tournament play since 1956, to Paul Keres in the Alekhine International Memorial Tournament and to Dhckstein in the XIII Chess Olympiad. Both games, in which Botvinnik had Black, “unfurled under the banner of the Sicilian.” Further, in several other games played with the Sicilian, Botvinnik’s position was not too favorable for a long time. One might recall his meeting with Bent Larsen at the XIl Chess Olympiad in Moscow.
Botvinnik had achieved most of his success employing the Caro-Kann Defense when he had had Black, although this defense it is true, had only undergone trial in one competition, the return match with Smyslov, while the appearance of the French Defense in Botvinnik’s games was becoming rarer and rarer in recent years. Only in Munich, against Wolfgang Uhlmann, did Botvinnik answer 1 d4 with 1...e6, and then it can be assumed that the German grandmaster (then still a Master) refrained from 2 e4 as he himself usually played the French.
We did not find one game in which Botvinnik played White against the King’s Indian when he faced 2...c5. It was not clear which system Botvinnik would use in reply to the King’s Indian Defense, since in his games, the solid fianchetto of the king’s bishop had been most encountered, as well as the recently fashionable Smisch Attack. The small number of games played by Botvinnik could not give us satisfactory answers to our many interesting questions. In short, the preparation for the match was “a preparation with many unknowns” and only the match itself would give the answers to all the questions.
March, 1960, imperceptibly approached. Further events developed rapidly. The arrival in Moscow in the evening, the drawing of lots, the result of which was that I would have White in the first game; the next day, the match’s opening ceremonies, and then March 15th, the first round...
I must confess to the readers that my spirits, right up until the beginning of the match, were not too high. And there was a good reason for this: In the past few years, I had had the “charming” habit of beginning a tournament with a defeat. The XXV Championship of the Soviet Union, the international tournament in Zhrich, the USSR People’s Spartakiad, and finally, the Candidates’ Tournament! This list seems to me to be quite sufficient.
This had gotten into my flesh and blood to such a degree that the score of the first game would come as no surprise to me, to my opponent or to my chess friends, who would not begin to look for chess releases or buy the bulletins until the second round. It is true that I succeeded in winning the first game against grandmaster Tolush in the First International Tournament in Riga, at the end of 1959, but as it turned out, the winning of this first game was virtually unique for me in competition.
The problem of beginning the first game of the match had not been considered by us. Even in the closing ceremonies at the Candidates’ Tournament in Belgrade, a Yugoslav radio commentator asked me: “What will you play on the first move as White in the first game of your match with Botvinnik?” I promised, without much reflection, to begin the game by advancing my e-pawn, and I did not want to break my word for no reason whatsoever; that notwithstanding, the move e4 is not so bad itself...
Mikhail Tal – Mikhail Botvinnik
French Defense [C18]
1.e2-e4 (0.01) e7-e6 (0.01)
Is this a surprise? Not as far as I am concerned. At least, preparing for the match, my trainer Alexander Koblents and I realized that his use of the French Defense was a real possibility. Although this opening did not bring Botvinnik any special success in his second match with Smyslov, Botvinnik’s exceptional creative ability did not provide any basis for assuming that he would shy away from that very French Defense which so many times had brought him outstanding victories. The most recent of the “French” games which was of theoretical significance had been played between Gligoric and Petrosyan in the 1959 Candidates’ Tournament, and in that game, the opening had turned out well for White. We had, of course, studied this game and were not opposed to a repetition of the opening moves. Inasmuch as it was obvious that Botvinnik had also examined this game, the match took on a very peculiar psychological aspect regarding the openings from the very first meeting. Before my second move, I reflected for a minute, recalling the numerous ramifications of this opening, considering those upon which my opponent might also dwell.
2 d2-d4 (0.02) d7-d5 (0.01)
3 Nb1-c3 (0.02) Bf8-b4 (0.02)
The French Defense is one of the most complicated openings. For a long time it was thought that one had to go through a lengthy maneuvering struggle, avoiding immediate skirmishes. Through the efforts of Soviet theoreticians, Rauzer (for White) and Botvinnik (for Black), ways of greatly intensifying the position were found. In the variation employed by Botvinnik in this game, Black gives up his black-square bishop, which significantly weakens his kingside. As compensation, he is able to put pressure on White’s rather compromised queenside. Many games which have begun with this variation have proven that if White does not succeed in quickly developing an initiative, the weaknesses in his position will sooner or later make themselves felt. Precisely because of this, White should immediately attempt to force the issue so as to prevent the stabilization of his opponent’s position.
4 e4-e5 (0.02) c7-c5 (0.03)
5 a2-a3 (0.02) Bb4×c3+ (0.04)
Botvinnik chooses a favorite line. It is curious to note that in the 1954 match with Smyslov, he retreated the bishop to a5 in several games. Grandmaster Smyslov does not like long variations in the opening. After the moves 6 b4 c×d4 in the first three games, he continued 7 Nb5, looking for quiet play to take advantage of the active position of his pieces. One must think that Botvinnik considered this variation fully acceptable for Black, since in the ninth game of the same match he again continued 5...Ba5, but this time (after home preparation) Smyslov chose the sharper continuation 7 Qg4?! and after 7...Ne7 8 b×a5 d×c3 9 Q×g7 Rg8 10 Q×h7 Nd7 (much more active than 10...Nbc6) 11 Nf3 Nf8 12 Qd3 Q×a5 13 h4! he obtained a significant edge and won the game nicely. Botvinnik employed this same variation in his game with Unzicker (Chess Olympiad, 1954). This time, it is true, he did not “waste” pawns on the kingside, but preferred the more careful 7...Kf8, but in this encounter, an unimportant position, as far as the opening is concerned, was reached. Apparently, precisely because of 7 Qg4, Botvinnik refrains from 5...Ba5, although even here, the last word has yet to be spoken. The game Matanovich-Mititelu (Zonal Tournament, Budapest 1960) was extremely interesting from this point of view. Notice, incidentally, that the move Qg4 has recently become something like White’s “visiting card” in the French Defense, in those cases when White is striving for the maximum in the opening.
6 b2×c3 (0.02) Qd8-c7 (0.05)
There is a curious story connected with this move. The variation 6...Ne7 looks more flexible, since the king knight still has to be developed this way, while the Black queen can, on occasion, occupy a5, and later – a4. But the patent continuation 7 Qg4 again causes complications, upon which chess theory has not yet given its final judgment. If memory does not fail me, Botvinnik last played 6...Ne7 in a game with Alexander (USSR-England Radio Match, 1947). The English Master continued 7 Qg4 c×d4 8 Q×g7 Rg8 9 Q×h7 Qa5 10 Rb1, and after a complicated struggle, he won the game. Subsequently, grandmaster Yefim Geller suggested an even stronger continuation – 8 Bd3 – and used it successfully, with a beautiful win over Sokolsky in the XVIII USSR Championship. Recently, efforts by black advocates of this variation have indicated that one should continue 7...0-0 or 7...Nf5 to improve the defense. Botvinnik is trying to create play in the center immediately.
7 Qd1-g4 (0.07) ...
“There is nothing new under the sun.” My opponent has repeatedly encountered this variation in his games. After 7 Nf3, the game is sufficiently complicated, but insufficiently sharp. For the time being, White is threatening to annihilate the kingside.
7...f7-f5 (0.06)
7...Ne7 8 Q×g7 Rg8 9 Q×h7 c×d4 is but a transposition of moves. Now the idea behind Black’s sixth move is revealed – g7 is defended. In view of the fact that the capture en passant 8 e×f6 N×f6 would only confirm the well-known thesis appearing in all texts, that is not worth developing the queen at the beginning of the game, White naturally continues...
8 Qg4-g3 (0.07) Ng8-e7 (0.08)
With his last move, Black stresses that he does not fear a capture on g7 in the least. In order to avoid this, he might have previously exchanged in the center with 8...c×d4 9 c×d4, and only then continue Ne7, after which bad is 10 Q×g7?? because of 10...Rg8 11 Q×h7 Qc3+. Botvinnik played this himself in a game with Reshevsky (Match/Tournament for the World Championship, 1948). White continued 10 Bd2 0-0 11 Bd3 b6 12 Ne2 Ba6 13 Nf4, and got a good attacking position. It is true that as the game progressed, Botvinnik succeeded in repelling the attack with accurate defense, and even won the game, but nevertheless, there are few people who are suited to handle such a position, since it does appear that White has a tangible positional plus: his black-square bishop, although only operating on one diagonal, can strike via d2 to b4, where it will be positioned much more actively. The young, talented German master Fuchs is one of the “last of the Mohicans” who still defends this variation. He has used this continuation twice against Soviet chessplayers – with Spassky in the Student World Championship at Varna (1958) and with Vasyukov (Gota 1957), but he was crushed both times in about 25 moves.
9 Qg3×g7 (0.10) ...
Smyslov, in the fourteenth game of his match with Botvinnik, avoided complications and played 9 Bd2. Black developed his forces as in the game with Reshevsky, and he received a good position thanks to the passive position of White’s queen’s bishop. I am sure that if White wants, he can get an opening edge; but he should by no means pass up this kind of double-edged continuation, which always appears so basic and more often than not, the strongest.
9...Rh8-g8 (0.08)
10 Qg7×h7 (0.11) c5×d4 (0.10)
11 Ke1-d1!? (0.13) ...
Twenty years ago, an annotator would cringe in horror at such a move. At the very beginning of the game, the white king starts out on a journey! This eccentric continuation is seen little today. White prefers to mask his plans of the king’s knight for a while, keeping the possibility of either going to e2 or f3, while keeping the f1-a6 diagonal free. Losing the right to castle essentially has no meaning since, first of all, his opponent is not very well developed yet, and second of all, Black’s own king is uncomfortable on e8. As far as I am concerned, the only game in which I came across the move 11 Kd1 (recommended, by the way, by Max Euwe), was in the above-mentioned Gligoric-Petrosyan game. The Soviet grandmaster continued with the straightforward 11...Nbc6 12 Nf3 N×e5 but after the very strong 13 Bg5!, got into difficulties (13...N×f3 does not work because of 14 Bb5+!). From Botvinnik’s steadfast analytical point of view, the possibility of strengthening Black’s play must not be overlooked.
11...Bc8-d7 (0.14)
A very artful move. Black intends to use the bishop’s help along with the queen’s striking power to underscore the vulnerability of the white king. The pieces have to be developed in any event, but it is best to first move the bishop out. If White now plays 12 Nf3, then after 12...Ba4 13 Bd3 Q×c3, his position immediately becomes critical. On 12 Ne2, Black can still play 12...Ba4, with the unpleasant threat of 13...d3. It is easy to see how the move 11...Bd7 kills two birds with one stone: strategically it helps complete development and prepares for castling long, while tactically it readies a blow at c2. If White does not want to come under strong attack, he must play extremely actively. There is basis for this. With his move 7...f5, Black eliminated his f4-pawn that was on f7, for which the black king often has to play the unpleasant role of guardian, but, on the other hand, the h5-e8 diagonal has been weakened, and this diagonal protects the black king when the f-pawn is in its original position. Moreover, it has deprived Black’s pieces of any future “structural” support on the diagonal. In any event, the white queen can now return to “home shores” with a tempo.
12.Qh7-h5+(0.30) Ne7-g6 (0.24)
On 12...Kd8, to avoid the pin, I intended to continue 13 Bg5, going for an attack. With the text move, Black sends up a “trial balloon” – will White be satisfied with a draw after 13 Qh7 Ne7 14 Qh5+, etc.?
13.Ng1-e2 (0.31) ...
One must understand that such an agreement to a draw would be a considerable creative defeat. It would mean that I admitted that I was wallowing in a mire of confusion after the first innovation by my opponent. White’s 13th move attempts to take advantage of the pin. It threatens 14 Nf4 and on 14...Kf7, the quiet 15 Bd3 could follow, or the sharper 15 g4. Now Black must take care of his king. Botvinnik spent more than a half-hour deliberating over this position, from which it can be inferred that he had not covered all the subtleties of the variation in his home laboratory. The continuation 13...Q×e5 14 c×d4 or 13...d×c3 14 Nf4 Kf7 15 Bd3 (significantly stronger than 15 Qh7+, which was recommended by Vukovic) with a number of unpleasant threats (possible, for example, is the variation: 15...Nc6 16 B×f5 e×f5 17 e6+ B×e6 18 Qh7+ Rg7 19 Q×g7+!) is not at all satisfactory for Black. The straightforward 13...Ba4 runs up against the rejoinder 14 Nf4 Q×c3 15 Bd3 Q×a1 16 N×g6 Nc6 17 Nf4+! (stronger than the variation which I examined during the game, 17 Ne7+ Kd7! 18 N×g8 R×g8, with double-edged play). Likewise, the problem is not solved by 13....Nc6 14 c×d4 Rc8 15 Ra2. Botvinnik chooses the best continuation, which, at the cost of a pawn, further loosens White’s king’s position. Now the game takes on a “gambit” character.
13...d4-d3! (1.01)
White’s answer is forced.
14 c2×d3 (0.31) Bd7-a4+ (1.08)
However strange it may seem, this natural move does not seem to be quite correct. Black takes advantage of the opportunity to break the pin on the kingside with tempo, but in so doing, he drives the white king to e1, where it is considerably more secure. White’s problem would have been much more complicated after the simple 14...Nc6, followed by castling long. The white king, whose protection on the queenside was quite unreliable, would have had to waste a tempo to get over to the other flank via e1. I think that after 14...Nc6 Black would have had some real compensation for his two sacrificed pawns.
15 Kd1-e1 (0.32) ...
15...Qc7×e5 (1.08)
This is a fully understandable attempt by Black to regain some of his sacrificed material, but the text move loses a lot of time. 15...Nc6 might have been more in the spirit of Black’s plan. Now, it is true, this move is not as strong, since White can continue 16 f4 0-0-0 17 Bd2, gradually freeing the pieces on his kingside. Sooner or later, Black will have to sacrifice a knight on e5. It is difficult to anticipate future events, but in any case, Black might have the initiative. It is tempting to look at the continuation suggested by the Czech master Podgorny, 15...Bb5, but by continuing 16 Bg5! B×d3 17 Kd2, White seizes the initiative.
16.Bc1-g5! (0.50) ...
The basic problem which now confronts White is how to keep the black king in the center. In this respect, the loss of White’s e-pawn has played into White’s hands, since new threats can be created with the opening of the e-file. White’s plan is carried out by the unusual “lateral” development of the rook.
16...Nb8-c6 (1.15)
The attempt to fight for the initiative by 16...f4 does not work in view of 17 d4 Qf5 18 N×f4 Qc2 19 Ne2.
17.d3-d4 (0.54) Qe5-c7 (1.22)
After 17...Qe4 18 Rc1!, Black’s queen finds that it does not have much room in the center of the board. The transition to the endgame, 17...Qh8 18 Nf4, is also not satisfactory for Black.
18 h2-h4! (0.58) ...
This was not played to begin the advance of the passed pawn, (although it will play its part), but to bring White closer to his goal of getting the king’s rook into the game and nearer the pressing developments in the center. On more sluggish continuations, Black, by playing 18...Nce7 and preparing to castle long, obtains a dynamic position. Now there is no time for 18...Nce7, inasmuch as White simply exchanges on e7 (19 B×e7 Q×e7) and continues 20 Qg5, and carries the game into extremely prosaic channels. Therefore, Black is forced to meet him halfway, opening lines.
18...e6-e5 (1.36)
19 Rh1-h3 (1.06) ...
Bringing up the reserves and simultaneously countering the threat 19...e×d4 20 c×d4 N×d4.
19...Qc7-f7 (1.46)
Also possible here was 19...e4. In that case, Black’s position would be rather solid, but he would be threatening absolutely nothing, and White could go about realizing his pawn advantage without any hindrance. Bad would be 19...f4 20 Qg4. All of Black’s efforts are being directed to driving the queen back from h5 by bringing his rook to h8, but he is never quite able to do this.
20.d4×e5 (1.08) Nc6×e5 (1.48)
20...Rh8 is not possible in view of 21 e6 Q×e6 22 Re3 R×h5 23 R×e6+ Kf7 24 R×g6!.
21.Rh3-e3 (1.10) Ke8-d7 (1.51)
Again, 21...Rh8 22 R×e5+ Kd7 23 Re7+ Q×e7 24 Q×g6 does not work.
22.Ra1-b1 (1.14) ...
With this unusual maneuver, White brings his queen’s rook into the game; at the same time, Black’s b-pawn is attacked.
22...b7-b6 (1.54)
It is difficult to imagine how, with the queen on h5, the weakening of a6 can play any role, but nevertheless, it does. White’s problem would have been more complicated after 22...Bc6. I intended to sacrifice the exchange, transposing into a rather advantageous endgame with 23 Nd4 f4 24 R×e5! N×e5 25 Q×f7+ N×f7 26 B×f4 Rae8+ 27 Kd2, but this would have been the lesser of two evils for Black. The move 22...b6 has another drawback: White can take advantage of the position of the bishop on a4, winning an important tempo for the development of the rook.
23 Ne2-f4 (1.15) ...
White’s pieces are poised like a coiled mainspring. If Black now plays 23...Rh8, then after 24 N×g6 N×g6 25 Qe2, the threat Qa6 (see the preceding note) will decide the game.
23...Ra8-e8 (1.58)
24 Rb1-b4! (1.19) ...
Preparing White’s next move.
24...Ba4-c6 (2.00)
25 Qh5-d1! (1.22) ...
“The queen has done her job – she is now dismissed.” Black never played Rh8. A rather picturesque position has arisen: The white king and queen, after their long journeys, have returned to their original positions; the king’s bishop has not made even one move, and nevertheless, Black has a very difficult position on his hands. White not only has a solid extra pawn, but he also has extraordinarily actively placed pieces, particularly the rooks, which are effectively controlling the center. The impressive mass of Black pieces in this region is in fact harmless.
25...Ng6×f4 (2.05)
And after 25...Ng4 26 Re2 or 26 R×e8 R×e8+ 27 Be2, Black is lost.
26 Rb4×f4 (1.22) Ne5-g6 (2.11)
27 Rf4-d4 (1.23) Re8×e3+ (2.12)
On 27...f4, 28 Qg4+ decides the issue.
28 f2×e3 (1.26) ...
There is no need to withdraw the bishop from its active position on g5. The white e-pawn can serve as a shield for the king if need be. However, Black does not succeed in creating any threats whatsoever.
28...Kd7-c7 (2.16)
29 c3-c4 (1.28) ...
This leads to a forced material advantage for White. On 29...Ne7, White continues 30 c×d5 B×d5 (or 30...N×d5 31 Bc4) 31 B×e7 Q×e7 32 Qc1+, giving Black absolutely no chance.
29...d5×c4 (2.20)
30 Bf1×c4 (1.28) Qf7-g7 (2.21)
31 Bc4×g8 (1.30) ...
Not a bad course of events for the bishop, which had just made its first entrance into the game.
31...Qg7×g8 (2.22)
32 h4-h5 (1.31) ...
Finally, the passed pawn has its say. Black resigned.
After Game 1
Tal leads 1-0
12½ needed to win
Botvinnik’s loss in the first game immediately put both opponents on new terms. If, before the beginning of the competition, Botvinnik could have been satisfied with 24 draws to retain his world championship title (such a percentage of draws is possible, of course, only on paper), then now he had to play to win to eliminate the gap. Botvinnik’s position would significantly deteriorate upon a second Tal victory. We were very interested in how Botvinnik would try to even the score: would he go in for complications as in the first match game or prefer slow, positional “squeezing” tactics, keeping a “sure draw” in hand? For just this reason, to ascertain Botvinnik’s sporting tactics, Koblents and I dwelled on my favorite variation of the King’s Indian Defense, one I used to employ very often and for which, of course, the world champion was thoroughly prepared.
Mikhail Botvinnik – Mikhail Tal
King’s Indian Defense [A61]
1 d2-d4 (0.00) Ng8-f6 (0.01)
2 c2-c4 (0.01) c7-c5 (0.02)
3 d4-d5 (0.02) e7-e6 (0.02)
One of the systems which is characteristic of Black’s modern approach to the game. Capablanca’s simpler systems and other orthodox defenses seem to have been forgotten in the archives of history. Fewer and fewer players now, when playing Black, will accept a position supposedly equal but offering no prospects. Therefore, other “unacceptable” (from the point of view of “classicism”) systems are often becoming the favorite weapons of modern chessplayers, as for example, the Nimzo-Indian, along with other “Indian” Defenses.
In all such openings, White has certain strategic advantages, whether it is a strong center or active piece positioning. However, Black’s position is basically full of hidden resources. So it is with this variation. In a few moves we will see that there is a very unpleasant weakness in Black’s camp at d6 and it will be necessary to defend it with the help of different tactical shifts. At the same time, his black-square bishop on g7, actively operating on the long diagonal, as well as the pawn majority on the queenside, gives every reason to expect that Black will have counterplay.
How many times has White refuted this system! Aron Nimzovich was the first to use it in a game with Frank Marshall in the New York International Tournament of 1927. Nimzovich immediately transferred his knight to c4, and the instant Black hesitated (this system is characterized by the fact that even a comparatively small inaccuracy can put Black in a hopeless position), he was smothered in a few moves, and before long torn to pieces. The hypnotic effect of this game was so strong that even Alekhine himself appraised Black’s opening experiment as one which did not inspire confidence.
And here, only a quarter-century later, fans of unknown paths again have selected this route. The variation selected by Black is not common and could be found classified under Hromadka Systems, Benoni Defenses, Old Indians and even Queen’s Pawn Games. It was only recently that annotators decided to squeeze this “unplaceable” system into the roomy receptacle of the extremely conventional King’s Indian Defense. Actually, almost any game where Black’s bishop, as fate wills it, goes to g7, lends itself to being called an “Indian Defense,” although the fighting methods in the wilderness of this elastic opening are very, very different.
At the beginning of the 1950s, the best way for White to play against this system, recounted in annotated games, was considered to be fianchettoing the king’s bishop. Practice quickly proved, however, that on g2, the bishop was out of play and Black succeeded in obtaining complete counterplay; then the “drivers” of the White pieces began to place their pieces in the center without any pretense, but even then, Black got a comfortable position by one of several tactical methods. It finally became obvious that hackneyed development against this system is not justified, since, if White does not succeed in exploiting Black’s “Achilles’ Heel,” d6, the traditional counter-blow b5 (or in some cases f5) will give his opponent the initiative.