I learned a bit of chess in high school. It was a natural thing to do for those who watch lunar eclipses and build rockets. I read a few books but we were in the same boat, we being those who could play by the rules.

I went off to the University of Wisconsin at the tender age of 15 and hung around Der Rathskeller. It was a magical place especially for someone who grew up in a town of 42. And a chance to indulge all the vices withheld from a rural lad (many of the rural vices were eminently avoidable) - chess, bridge, New York girls and beer. The Union scheduled an array of events including a simultaneous chess match in the Summer of 1958.

I took a chair with 15 others and noticed a blunder by my opponent in the first game and I punished him for his mistake. I didn't find one in the second game but carefully played to a draw. The "master" won 30, lost one and drew one.

A few years later, I found myself living in Greenwich Village and was drawn to the chess tables in Washington Square Park. For $1 a game, you could enjoy the misery of getting beat by chess hustlers eager to move on to the next game or the next mark. Even though they taught me a considerable degree of humility, you can't help but pick up a few swindles in the process. I wasn't really a chess masochist and had dreams of kicking sand in the faces of the bullies.

The Marshall Chess Club was a few blocks up Fifth Avenue, a mecca for the chess enthusiast. I joined and after two games, my training was exposed and I was assigned to the JDs (Juvenile Division) downstairs. I was still a young man but these were kids and they could beat me consistently. Not good for the ego. I was permitted upstairs occasionally for a game if I played still and kept my mouth shut. You were not even permitted to say "check" much less "Mate!" but I never even got the chance to say "Mate!". I did get a rare concession as my opponent would quietly lay his king on its side and leave without so much as a nod.

This was all good preparation for attending Fisher's participation in the Fourth Capablanca Tournament in 1965 held in Havana and played by teletype from the Marshall in New York. Another example of clever US foreign policy. Attending meant sitting in an anteroom watching the moves relayed to a wall mat. Even breathing heavy could get you evicted. More evidence of masochism as we endured the Tringov game. The Sicilian Defense has always made me anxious but accepting the poisoned pawn redefines anxiety of a kibitzer.

It was difficult to maintain hope for Fisher and only after slowly bleeding his opponent with small cuts did a draw look possible. A short game of 23 moves (Tringov resigned depriving the audience of a "pretty" mate (execution?)), life did not look good at move 20 to my eye. Two moves later, it was all over. Fisher slips out of the club but is overheard saying "I played that game in my bedroom three weeks ago".

It took hours for most and days for me to understand what had happened. Fisher had accepted the material advantage and slowly but inexorably deflated the advantage. Carefully covering his vulnerabilities, the attack withered and Fisher brought home the material advantage gained ealy in the game.

Fisher placed second in the Capablance and it would be years, seven to be exact, in the 21st game and after 41 long moves that Fisher would be redeemed. Fisher was enjoying a good game and a winning position but he played Spassky like fly fisherman plays a trout, leaving Spassky just enough hope to play on until Spassky was exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. Spassky seals his next (and last) move, and the game is adjourned for the night. Spassky calls in his resignation in the morning but Fisher doesn't let it end there. He plays out the game over and over and announces that Spassky may have thrown in the towel too soon.

Americans were thrilled with their new hero who proved the United States could beat the Soviets and then rub their noses in the dirt. The Cold War played out the same way. We bled the Soviets and triumphed not on the battlefield but the checkbook. We could cover our overdrafts.

Chillingly, this was/is Osama's strategy. Lure the United States into expensive operations until the credit chain runs out, the troops are exhausted and the collar chokes. I wonder how many years it will take for this game to play out.