"Fischer later improved with d3 (see the following game) with the idea of holding back on 0-0 in case Black captures on h3. The point is that the obvious Bxh3 capture opens the g-file for operations against the Black king [10.d3 0-0 11.Nc3 Re8 12.0-0 Bxh3 13.gxh3 Qd7 14.Bg4 Nxg4 15.hxg4 1-0 Fischer,R-Radojcic,M/Poughskeepie 1963/Fischer (15)]"

Speaking of the opening itself (invented by Steinitz, I suspect), one should agree with Tarrasch who criticized the first world champion for his obsession to such "ugly moves".

Speaking of this, 9. Nh3 looks very ugly, with no clear refute available. The same is true (more than just simply true!) about Steinitz as a defender of Evans gambit against Chigorin.

I once read the comment that Stienitz would have decisively won both of his matches against the Russian champion, had he not been so stubborn with the Two Knights for White and Evans Gambit for Black.

Analyzing the games, one can easily see that Steinitz was much stronger in a wider class of positions, yet Chigorin' strengths were mostly in the positions where he could engage his rich imagination and increase the attacking potential.

I mean, that's pretty good, to have the black pieces, and have a clear advantage already before you've played your second move. White should just refrain from giving up his bishop pair, and playing 2. d4, of course, and let the offsides knight just stay there. But many seem to be drawn like a moth to the fire, and feel compelled to double the pawns.

<"Paired against Bobby in the New York State Open that year, I noticed that he was taking a long time to move. Then I saw that he'd fallen sound asleep. In a few minutes the flag on his clock would fall, and he'd lose on time. That's not the way I like to win games, tourneys or titles. So I made what some called my biggest blunder of the tournament. I awakened Fischer. Bobby yawned, made a move, punched his clock and proceeded to beat me. It ended up as Game 45 in his My 60 Memorable Games. Later I heard that Fischer had stayed up late the previous night playing speed chess for money.">

If Bisguier hadn't woken him, it would have ended up in <The Games I Have No Recollection Of>.

It was nice of Bisguier to wake him up, but I think I've told the story of how I played someone who later became a semi-prominent player, in a High School Tournament when we were both class players. In a 30/30 tournament, I made Move 28 with a couple of minutes to go, but forgot to push the clock. When I thought he was thinking about his move, he was actually watching my time run out. And he didn't do anything wrong or ungentlemanly. It wasn't rated, but it was a serious tournament, and pushing my clock was my responsibility.

Just saying that Bisguier went above and beyond the call of duty to be gallant here. But if he hadn't, he wouldn't have been a villain. Staying awake, pushing your clock, keeping an accurate scoresheet, getting to the game on time, et cetera, are the player's responsibility.

For another story along those lines, in the 70's, Kavalek forfeited the last round of a tournament by not showing up. His excuse was that his hotel hadn't given him his wake-up call. He was pretty bent out of shape about it, and argued strenuously that the forfeit should be anulled, because it was the hotel's fault, not his. No way. Getting to the game on time is his responsibility, and the buck stops with him.

I have reminded some players, and others I have not. Personal choice in the situation.

In round robins, I always reminded players from my club. This was a rule in our club, and you could lose your per diem for not doing so.

In team events, I usually did not.

Friends - yes, unless it was an individual match, or in some team events.

Personal enemies - baby, take care of yourself.

IRON MAN AT THE CHESS TABLE
One of the contenders at the Western Open chess tournament, in which Bobby Fischer took top prize of $750, was a heavy-set, cigar-smoking Chicago advertising man, Norbert Leopoldi, an annual and tireless fixture of the Open. The night before the final rounds he was seen playing Fischer in a small room adjoining the lobby of the Wenonah Hotel, and after a while word swept the tournament that Fischer had won $250 from him. He had, indeed, and next morning when Fischer was called early to start tournament play, the figure had risen to a reported $3,500. They had played all night. Beaming good-naturedly, Fischer refused nevertheless to comment on the impromptu match. His friends explained that he did not want to be known as a chess hustler. Loser Leopoldi was less reticent. He said Fischer won 14 straight games at odds of a Pawn and move or a Pawn and two moves. "We played all night," he said. "I think maybe I won three games." The drowsy Fischer dozed off during his game with Arthur Bisguier and had to be awakened. He won it, then beat Hans Berliner to win the tournament. Presumably, he had pleasant dreams – Sports Illustrated, July 29, 1963.