For what? The "check and mate" thing?>

Exactly.

<Petrosianic: That's the way the story gets told in a lot of old books. Irving Chernev tells it that way (though I know a lot of Chernev's facts have been superceded by new discoveries).>

I get the feeling that Lasker just saw more in most of the positions, and was therefore able to outplay Tarrasch most of the time. He also seemed to have played the way Alekhine played against Bogolyubov, taking a lot of liberties. He did not play Capa the same way. It's obvious Lasker knew he was a better player than Tarrasch.

I am grateful to chessgames that now I can access the games of legendary World Championship matches, such as this one. Kind of like a dream come true for someone like me who lives in a place where there are no good bookstores much less chessbooks.

Lasker's ability to negotiate complications is amazing. He obviously had outstanding sight of the board. If this version of Lasker, who was apparently in peak form, were time traveled to the present and trained in modern openings and computers, I have little doubt that he would be able to give most of today's GMs a good whopping; and everyone would be wowing and whooping his incredible fighting style.

I know rating systems place Lasker rather low compared to other world champions, but IMO this is deceptive. Why? Because Lasker adjusted his style to suit the opposition. Subsequently, he was the type of player who could easily raise his level of play. He was able to raise his level of play (considering age depreciation of playing strength) in the 1930s when playing the new generations of very strong masters.

In today's stronger playing field, a young Lasker would probably be playing at nearly 2800 level IMO, as he would no doubt raise his level in the face of the competition.

It's certainly impossible to give a really continuous rating for Lasker, because he played so few tournaments, but when he did, he almost always won.

Yes, exactly. So if you want to take that with a grain of salt, go ahead.

When I pick up some of those old books, I might be able to give you a more precise reference. I believe that either Al Horowitz's book on the world championship, or Harold Schonberg's Grandmasters of Chess (or maybe both) might tell this story too, but I can't be sure until I check it.

<brankat gives Vukovic as a source and according to him, this incident occurred in 1926 - not 1908.>

That's quite possible, that the story happened at some other time, and got grafted onto their world championship match. Stories do sometimes get mangled and "improved" in the retelling that way (You know, like how seemingly every witty saying of the 19th century has been ascribed to either Abe Lincoln or Mark Twain at one time or another).

Actually, when you leave out his comeback in the mid-30s (which was still impressive enough, but had mainly financial reasons) and maybe some events in his very early career, the ONLY serious competitions he didn't win were Hastings 1895 (3rd place), Cambridge Springs 1904 (2nd place), Moscow 1925 (2nd place at age 56, but ahead of Capablanca!), and of course the 1921 match against Capa.

Outstanding!

The first chess book that I read was Lasker's Manual of Chess, which I won in a local tournament for children when I was a small boy. It was the only copy I have ever seen of it, and I don't even know how the tournament organizers came to get hold of it. Lasker did not write in a well-organized manner, and he seems to assume that his audience already knew what he was talking about. That did not stop me from being impressed with him.

Before the rise of Rubinstein, I have regarded Tarrasch as the strongest player apart from Lasker in that era (although Pillsbury might have been more naturally gifted), and so I have been curious as to this WC match. A clash of the titans of that era. I am not disappointed. Tarrasch did his best to win, but Lasker is just a monster in complicated double-edged positions.

Also, he seems to have given up before the match even started, and just showed up for the paycheck. Are you aware of the conversation Ossip Bernstein reported having with him just before he left for Havana?

<"Have you made any preparations for the match?"

"No."

"Have you taken time out to rest?"

"No."

"At least are you taking along a chessboard in order to study chess on the voyage?"

"No."

"Have you reviewed the openings you will play and studied the games of Capablanca."

"No."

That is indeed pure madness! Capablanca IMO is the most naturally gifted chessplayer in history that humanity has ever produced (although I have always thought Capa never maximized his potential, and tended to play below par for such a monstrously talented player).

I generally find that kind of player more interesting than the other. Kasparov, for example, achieved pretty much all he could have in chess. Maybe he could have gotten a little more if he'd stayed around longer, but not too much more.

People like Capablanca, Fischer and Petrosian achieved a lot, but leave the impression that they could have achieved even more than they did.

<I agree with Capa that Lasker should have played that WC match with him before WW1. Now that would really have been some clash of the titans.>

It may be lucky for Capa that they didn't. When his supporters first tried to get him into a title match, I'm not sure he was ready yet. A defeat then might have been embarrassing and stigmatizing.

I think the ideal time for their match would have been about 1914. I think Capa was ready by then, and Lasker was still near his prime. That would have been a great match. August 1914 would have been great, but people were pretty busy right about that moment.

Right you are. In my chess dreams, I have often wondered what would have happened had Lasker in his prime met Capablanca in his prime in a WC match!

I definitelt agree with you. A Capablanca of 1912 would have probably lost to Lasker. Capa was after all born and bred in a far flung provincial colony of the old Spanish Empire, and only started playing in Europe, the center of international chess, in his 20s. Many chess fans and players today tend to forget this fact. However, a two or three year exposure to European masters would have been sufficient to prepare him for Lasker the Great.

Lasker in 1914 was around 46 years old, around the age of Karpov when he was still beating everyone in sight in matches except for Kasparov. (If Kaspy had not arrived in the chessworld like an exploding nova, I believe that Karpov would still have been undisputed World Champion at that age.) IMO Lasker would still have been in his prime or close to it. More importantly, that version of Lasker would not have had the psychological and financial trauma of a WW1 hanging on his neck.)

While Capablanca is Capablanca. What else to call him but what his fellows called him, an invincible chess machine.

Kasparov also benefited from the lessons of the 1984 match which put the finishing touches on some aspect of his game

<gogulko> <visayanbraindoctor>

<He had the flu at Hastings>

He was very sick earlier in 1895, indeed so ill that his brother Berthold, a doctor, came over to England to take care of him. Was he sick during the tournament? I don't know. The tournament took just over a month. Lasker started badly and (very uncharacteristically) ended badly. But in between he won almost every game for nearly 3 weeks. So if he was ill, I doubt he was ill the entire time. Overall, he won 14 and lost 4 at Hastings, compared to 12 wins and 3 losses at Nuremberg against a similar field the following year. Certainly not a very different performance, though at Nuremberg he finished first and at Hastings he finished third.

<and hadn't played a serious tournament in 4 years before Cambridge Springs.>

He didn't play in a serious tournament for five years before St. Petersburg 1909 (1st place) or five years before St. Petersburg 1914 (1st place) or four years before Berlin 1918 (1st place) or 5 years Maerisch Ostrau 1923 (1st place). He didn't play in tournaments often, period. Nor did he do that badly at Cambridge Springs -- +8-2=5. Marshall had an otherworldly result -- +11-0=4 -- and won.

<In Moscow 1925 he lost a crucial - and oft-anthologized game against Torre that he was actually winning. According to Lasker's biography (Hannak), he received a telegram telling his verse play would be performed and got distracted.>

Anything is possible, I guess. But these stories seem to crop up just about every time a famous player loses a game. Color me extremely skeptical. Torre-Lasker certainly had a lot of mistakes by both sides -- maybe both men were being handed telegrams during the game?

Also Lasker's performance overall was quite strong -- +10-2=8, not as extraordinary as +13-1=6 at New York the year before, but still good enough for second place.

<As far as the Capablanca match, he was financially and psychologically destitute after WWI, and played only because he needed the money. >

For what it's worth, Capablanca claimed that Lasker played better in Havana 1921 than he did at New York 1924 -- the difference, Capablanca modestly asserted, was in the quality of his opposition. I find Capa's assertion a bit strong, but Kramnik also commented that Lasker played very well in the match; Capablanca just played better.

Game Collection: New York 1924

Game Collection: Moscow 1925

Game Collection: Cambridge Springs 1904

Game Collection: Nürnberg/Nuernberg/Nuremberg 1896

Game Collection: Hastings 1895

This is probably Lasker's best tournament, though St. Petersburg 1914 and New York 1924 surely run it close:

Game Collection: London 1899

<From the beginning it was a most difficult tournament, for all of the players were well known and felt called upon to enter into the arena of suitors for the prizes. The past two to three years have altogether revealed many skilled players: Duras, Nimzovich, Rubinstein, Salwe, Tartakower, Vidmar. In this last tournament the name Dus-Chotmirsky was added to the list who, after early defeats, won game after game. The old gods must come down from Olympus and find a new seat. We see already how entirely mistaken was the idea of the grandmasters' tournament at Ostende. Schlechter, Marshall, Janowsky, Chigorin, who participated there, had a woeful tournament -- with the exception of Schlechter, but even he achieved only a relative success.

That's a fascinating article! If you were to change the names of then rising stars Duras, Nimzovich, Rubinstein, Salwe, Tartakower, Vidmar, Dus-Chotmirsky to Carlsen, Karjakin, Radjabov, Mamedyarov, Aronian, and so on; and the names of then veterans Schlechter, Marshall, Janowsky, Chigorin, Tarrasch, Lasker to Anand, Ivanchuk, Kamsky, Kramnik, Morozevich, Leko and so on, and place that in the internet today, it's possible that no one would notice that the article was written in 1907.

And what would the chess world say if a new Capablanca were to pop up in 4 more years (as he did in San Sebastian 1911) and an Alekhine were to appear in 7 more years (as he did in St. Petersburg 1914)?

<From the beginning it was a most difficult tournament, for all of the players were well known and felt called upon to enter into the arena of suitors for the prizes. The past two to three years have altogether revealed many skilled players: Duras, Nimzovich, Rubinstein, Salwe, Tartakower, Vidmar. In this last tournament the name Dus-Chotmirsky was added to the list who, after early defeats, won game after game. The old gods must come down from Olympus and find a new seat. We see already how entirely mistaken was the idea of the grandmasters' tournament at Ostende. Schlechter, Marshall, Janowsky, Chigorin, who participated there, had a woeful tournament -- with the exception of Schlechter, but even he achieved only a relative success.

We are currently living in a brilliant era in chess. Thanks to numerous tournaments, which follow closely upon one another, it is becoming possible for a chess player, when he is successful, to make a living for himself as a result of his exertions. Thus encouraged, a new school of masters is forming that threatens to put the old, most distinguished notables quite in the shade. Tarrasch has solemnly declared that the Ostende tournament is the last in which he would participate. It is understandable -- the exertions that today's tournaments require is too much for a man in his riper years. Only younger powers can join in, players in their twenties. Lasker long ago renounced his participation in tournaments under the pretext that the outcome of a game, around which so many individual forces are at work, is uncertain, that the strength of the individual player is by no means the decisive factor. We permit ourselves to entertain some doubt about the last statement.>

Just for fun:

"From the beginning it was a most difficult tournament, for all of the players were well known and felt called upon to enter into the arena of suitors for the prizes. The past two to three years have altogether revealed many skilled players: Karjakin, Radjabov, Mamedyarov, Aronian, Grischuk, Wang Yue, Wang Hao, Bu Xiangzhi, Gashimov. In this last tournament the name Carlsen was added to the list who, after early defeats, won game after game. The old gods must come down from Olympus and find a new seat. We see already how entirely mistaken was the idea of the grandmasters' tournament at Ostende. Anand, Gelfand, Ivanchuk, Kamsky, Topalov, Kramnik, Svidler, Leko, who participated there, had a woeful tournament -- with the exception of Morozevich, but even he achieved only a relative success.

We are currently living in a brilliant era in chess. Thanks to numerous tournaments, which follow closely upon one another, it is becoming possible for a chess player, when he is successful, to make a living for himself as a result of his exertions. Thus encouraged, a new school of masters is forming that threatens to put the old, most distinguished notables quite in the shade. Kamsky has solemnly declared that the Ostende tournament is the last in which he would participate. It is understandable -- the exertions that today's tournaments require is too much for a man in his riper years. Only younger powers can join in, players in their twenties. Kasparov long ago renounced his participation in tournaments under the pretext that the outcome of a game, around which so many individual forces are at work, is uncertain, that the strength of the individual player is by no means the decisive factor. We permit ourselves to entertain some doubt about the last statement."

(Again, before kibitzers start misconstruing, this is just for fun.)