His strengths were probably opening knowledge and strategy; there aren't a lot of speculative brilliancies. His biggest failing was probably chronic time pressure, coupled with a lack of competitiveness; you get the feeling he would rather be analyzing the game than playing it. There may have been a lack of physical robustness as well. In group pictures, he is the pudgy one amidst a number of lean sharks.

He was just a bit older than most of the 1930s generation (Reshevsky, Fine, Denker, Dake), and his successes came early in that decade, specifically the New York State Championships of 1931 and 1933. Within a couple of years it was clear he was being left behind, and he had all but abandoned competitive chess in his early 30s when most players reach their peaks. At least he had the good sense to realize that, and find a field in which he excelled.

The reason why I've rated his strength so high is, of course, his overwhelming plus score against Reshevsky (although I would have never gone that far to conclude he was a greater player than Sammy).

The focus of cg.com discussions is mostly on playing strength, but it is easily overlooked that you never become a player's fan because of his strength alone. You like his games, you like the way he is playing, you like his personal style.

Here's an example of how objective Fred could be. He goes to bat for Botvinnik in the May 1948 issue of Chess Review:

<I do not see how Botvinnik's right to the title can possibly be questioned. He played the best chess; achieved a commanding lead; made a plus score against each contestant; lost only one game; was never seriously threatened.

Yet, curiously enough, there have already appeared some unfavorable comments. According to the tenor of these remarks, the play was disappointing, much below Alekhine's standard, etc.

These comments deserve some attention. In the first place, they are generally made by players who have considerable ability but who have never quite reached the first rank. Such players are naturally enough plagued by the eternal question: "What's he got that I haven't got?" They find it difficult to get themselves in an appreciative frame of mind. The rest of us, who have no axe to grind, have no trouble in admiring the great chess of those who are indisputably our betters.

These critics have made much of the fact that mistakes have been made by the contestants. I refuse to be astounded: was there ever a tournament without mistakes?! I have been greatly amused, however, at some of the bad mistakes in analysis which have been made by the selfsame critics when they annotated the games about which they have so disparaging an attitude!

The comparison with Alekhine is hardly fair. Most of us know Alekhine only from two collections of his best games. These games are of course beautiful, but if we study all of Alekhine's games, we are bound to find many blunders and errors of omission and commission.

Then, the point of view is important. The critics of the present tournament do not dwell on the fact that errors are exploited, but merely on the fact that errors are made. But if we adopt the same nagging point of view toward Alekhine's games, we would have to drop our enthusiasm and dwell exclusively on the blunders of the opposition which made Alekhine's beautiful moves possible.

Finally, the critics forget that the level of play has risen considerably in the last three decades. The more evenly that players are matched, the harder it is to win brilliantly, and the more likely it is that victory will be achieved on the basis of one player cracking psychologically, or being tricked in the opening, or making a time pressure mistake, or having to play for a win when the position does not justify it.

<Development is better than riches.>

--- Fred Reinfield

Yes but not clueless development but harmonious development.

<"There is no development without harmony.">

-- Carlos Torre

I guess the algebraic change was another metric type change, where the USA and england had to follow what the rest of the world was doing. Algebraic is probably easier for annotators to work with, too.

The man had second sight-he knew there would be countless posters in a computer age, who would criticise the greatest players at the drop of a hat, all with a maddeningly superior air.

Take those engines away and-voila-many of the critics vanish into thin air.

<....Finally, the critics forget that the level of play has risen considerably in the last three decades. The more evenly that players are matched, the harder it is to win brilliantly, and the more likely it is that victory will be achieved on the basis of one player cracking psychologically, or being tricked in the opening, or making a time pressure mistake, or having to play for a win when the position does not justify it....>

click for larger view

This position comes from the game Turoverov--Arzumanyan, USSR correspondence, 1975, and was quoted by Edmar Mednis in "Player's Chess Annual", #6. The game continued: <41.c5 Bxb5 42.cxd6? Bxf1! 43.d7>, reaching this position:

click for larger view

And the finish was <43...Nc5! 44.d8Q Nd3+ 45.Kxf1 Ng3#>

Very pretty. Now you're probably asking yourself, where did the pawn on h7 in the second diagram come from? Perhaps you are even suspecting that I am not a FEN master.

Well, Fred Reinfeld put it there. He used the second diagram in his book, "The Way to Better Chess", published in 1958--<17 years before the Tureverov--Arzumanyan game>.

Would you rather have the one I had two days ago?

I walked into our bedroom at night and tried to switch on the light, but apparently the bulb was burnt out because nothing happened.

I thought I saw a hint of movement in the corner next to the head of the bed. Peering into the deep shadows in that corner, I saw a something on the floor, no bigger than my head.

In fact, I think a head is exactly what it was.

Then it muttered, in a voice like half-congealed grease, "Do bloody razors make good eating?"