Expenses

Prizes $1,020.35

Am. Chess Federation share of entry fees 273.00

Hotel Touraine (banquet and misc.) 193.88 Outing to Concord (caterer, bus, chairs) 176.60

Program printing 145.00

Wallboards, carpenter, banners 52.45

Tournament director 75.00

Tournament manager (compensation for services) 50.00

Ticket taxes 24.00

Lunch, supper, transportation, scorers 57.60

Miscellaneous 80.13

Total expenses $2,148.01

Total receipts ' $2,019.00

Deficit $129.01

And John F. Barry, in his noted column in the Boston Transcript, comments:

A few heavily donated towards contributions and a number generously—some by way of special prizes, but all with the spirit and purpose to make the tournament a success, the occasion one to be remembered by visitors and to do honor to our city. It was unanimously proclaimed by our guests as the finest and most enjoyable tournament the Federation has held. The deficit is one all local chess lovers should share by small contributions—say a dollar a piece. Why throw the burden on a few? Let us show we appreciate the credit brought to Boston, the pleasure afforded and the work and effort (prodigious and substantially gratuitous for most of the committee) that made it all possible. Address Fred J. Keller, Tournament Treasurer, City Club, Somerset Street, Boston, Mass.

My Brother

By Lajos Steiner

My brother Andrew (Hungarian: Endre) is two years older than I. He learned chess as a boy, and missed being a prodigy by a few years. He attained master strength very early, but somehow he could not penetrate into the ranks of the first-rate masters—-with the exception of a few outstanding international successes. As a matter of fact, he seemed to have receded completely from the international spotlight, when he achieved an amazing result at Kemeri last year. He took sixth prize, only a point behind the winners (there was a triple tie, Flohr, Petrov and Reshevsky ending up with the same score). And at Stockholm he likewise did very well.

These are the salient facts, measurable by score tables, the only absolute scale in chess. Why did my brother fail to make the grade for so long a time? Will he hold the ground he has recovered at Stockholm and Kemeri? I must confess that I don't know. What I do know, and what many Hungarian chess players know, and what a few internationalists know is that my brother is one of the pro-foundest players living. Do not think that I am prejudiced in his favor. My attitude is something like my feeling about Tartakover. Probably no one can play more strongly than Tartakover. Tlhere are better players, more perfect masters. Tartakover has faults, and the greatest of them is that he does not care to avoid getting into difficult positions. Sometimes his ability enables him to extricate himself safely, other times he is left without recourse. Nobody can handle such positions more cleverly, no matter how they may have happened to come about. If he would put forth such efforts in more suitable positions, he would hardly know his superior. But either he cannot succeed in eliminating this fault (it is very difficult to eliminate fundamental faults), or he does not care to—which amounts to the same thing in the end.

Similarly, my brother has faults which hamper his development. They seemed to be expressed chiefly in a conflict 'between ideals and practice. It seemed impossible that such a style as his could ever lead to good practical results. Can a finite brain, with only limited time at its disposal, master inhumanly complicated positions? It does not seem so. My brother produced some grand games, but had to be content with only mediocre results. He was often in time trouble; many of his beautifully planned games went to pieces. They got too complex for 'him, or else the time pressure was too acute.

I was far away during the competitions at Kemeri and Stockholm; but from letters I received, and accounts I heard after my arrival, my brother rarely encountered time difficulties in these tourneys. His games seemed to be less involved and his technique more polished. He seemed to have compromised somewhat by not always searching for the deepest move; hence his more economical expenditure of time.

The following game should give you a good idea of his new style.

Stockholm, 1937 (Match: Hungary—Sweden)

0 0

Post a comment