The Clock Ran Out On Viktor

In sudden-death play, neither man held back, Karpov attacking strongly with white, Korchnoi replying with the aggressive—and risky—Pi re defense. The game was even through 20 moves, but once again Korchnoi's clock trouble hung him: after taking two hours and 24 minutes for the first 28 moves, he was left with just six minutes to complete the ensuing crucial 12 moves—or face automatic defeat with time run out. And as the clock ticked, Korchnoi crumbled, his seconds groaning as rushed, weak moves turned what might have been a barely salvageable draw into a loss. At the adjournment, Korchnoi sealed a move from a position that had no hope.

After Korchnoi left the playing hall, his chief second told match officials the challenger would not return to finish the game. Neither, in protest against "the intolerable conditions under which the games had been played," would he sign his scorecard in formal resignation. At noon Korchnoi issued a statement saying his opponents had done "everything in their power to slander me, to destroy the harmony within my camp, to break my nerve.... Although Mr. Karpov has retained his paper title, I hope the world will appreciate the moral depths to which his supporters have lowered themselves to maintain his supremacy."

Korchnoi's well-known talent for political invective aside, most observers agreed that the quality of chess at Baguio ranged from good, sharp technical play (a Karpov trademark) and sometimes stunning end games (more often by Korchnoi) to, as one put it, "cheap tricks, sloppy analysis, and plain, simple mistakes that wouldn't do credit to a decent 16-year-old."

In fact, few outside the Soviet camp showed any great satisfaction at what had transpired—except that after 93 days, the longest chess championship was finally over. To a man, Western players and officials were unhappy about the precedents set. "I see nothing but evil coming," said an English grandmaster, "and there doesn't seem much hope outside of splitting the chess world into East and West. No one wants that, but no one wants another spectacle like this." The crudeness of the Soviet moves hit especially hard for one of the jury's Eastern European members. Apologizing to a friend in the Korchnoi camp, he said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but in such situations I have no choice how to vote."