London/Leningrad, VII-X, 1986.
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Total | |
| Karpov A | = | = | = | 0 | 1 | = | = | 0 | = | = | = | = | = | 0 | = | 0 | 1 | 1 | 1 | = | = | 0 | = | = | 11.5 |
| Kasparov G | = | = | = | 1 | 0 | = | = | 1 | = | = | = | = | = | 1 | = | 1 | 0 | 0 | 0 | = | = | 1 | = | = | 12.5 |
After the match the like he did for the previous match of 1985, World Champion G. Kasparov published a master piece with all games deeply analysed:
“…Without the slightest doubt, in the period between the matches Karpov did an enormous amount of work, and prepared a mobile opening repertoire, aimed at the development of theoretical discussions dur ing the course of the match. Intending to battle for the demonstration of his rights in all fundamental creative debates, Karpov concerned himself very seriously over widen ing his arsenal of playing methods. I am convinced that all this would have been quite sufficient to give him victory in 1985, but by the return match I in turn had managed to work through the necessary amount of in formation and had largely eliminated those defects which had been revealed in my pre vious meetings with Karpov. Essentially, the return match broke the traditional stereo types about ‘home’ and ‘away’ grounds in Kasparov—Karpov matches.
In the first instance it must be mentioned that Karpov managed to reach a new qualitative level of opening preparation, largely using the experience accumulated in our previous matches. My traditional advantage in the initial stage, declared by many commentators (and by Karpov himself) to be the foundation of my previous victory, melted away in the return match. Moreover, by skilfully combining purposeful work in the most critical directions with deep strategic anticipation of the opponent’s plans, for the greater part of the match Karpov held the opening initiative. I think that now the causes of the fiasco suffered by the Grunfeld Defence will be understandable.
In employing the new opening. we were counting on the conservatism of Karpov’s opening outlook and on his unwillingness to engage in mutually dangerous theoretical discussions (of which I already had positive experience from my employment of the g g3 variation against the Nimzo—Indian Defence in the 1985 match). There was a danger that the new opening might well show signs of cracking, on encountering a fundamentally changed approach by the opponent to the solving of opening problems. This, of course, need not have happened, but during the course of the match I, unfortunately, lacked flexibility and in tuition
On the other hand, Karpov’s superiority in the concluding stage of the game and in purely technical positions disappeared, and at times he encountered difficulties precisely in these situations. It can be ascertained that the mutual creative exchange, inevitable during such a prolonged duel, largely neutralized the difference in the playing methods resulting from the features of the two players’ styles. But for all the outward parity of strength and possibilities, Karpov nevertheless fell behind. The great intensification of his preparations before the return match proved insufficient compared with the work in all directions, which had consistently been carried out in my team over the course of several years. …
But who, better than the participants themselves in matches at the supreme level, can make a maximum contribution to the development of chess?! This was the reason for my open letter to Anatoly Karpov, published in the magazine 64, 1987, No. 4, an extract from which is given below:
I am appealing to you not in your capacity as editor-in-chief of 64, but as my long-standing opponent in a number of gripping encounters at the chess board. Unfortunately, games from World Championship Matches often remain in history with superficial, instant commentaries, made on the spot. This lends added importance to intelligent commentaries, made after the elapse of some time, when passions have died down. Only a detailed analysis, based on an impartial approach to the solving of chess problems, can give a complete picture of the struggle. And here the decisive word belongs to the participants themselves.
I regret that your post-match comments have created a distorted picture of events. References to chance or bad luck can hardly be considered serious arguments.
I should like to draw your attention to radical disagreements in our chess assessments, in particular regarding the 24th, deciding game of the 1985 match. You have repeatedly stated that you could have easily won this game and thereby changed the course of chess history. For my part, I have upheld the opposite point of view, one which, moreover, I have supported with analytical evidence. But you have not once found the time to give a concrete reply to my objections. I am convinced that a creative duel in print between us will lead to a sharp increase in the popularity of chess in our country and throughout the world . . . Therefore I am offering you an open chess discussion. I am convinced that only time and constant analytical searching can determine the true worth of games played, and give a genuine picture of the struggle.
Karpov’s reply, in which he pleaded that he was exceptionally busy before his match with Sokolov, essentially rejected my offer of an open chess discussion. In point of fact, in his letter Karpov once again expressed his opinion about the unfortunate course of circumstances in the 24th game.
Here is an extract from it:
I must straight away admit that your letter took me unawares. You write that my “post-match comments have created a distorted picture of events”, and draw attention to the 24th game of our 1985 match. I think that it is precisely here that the logical disparity lies. You yourself talk about the “picture of events”. But the events in fact were such that White missed very good practical (but by no means analytical) winning chances.
It must be agreed that, from the course of play in that 24th game of the 1985 match, about which you write, a win for White would have been more logical than a win for Black.
And so, a discussion did not result, but one cannot disregard Karpov’s categorical assertion about the unfair outcome of the 24th game, and hence of the match as a whole.
These words sounded strange after the conclusion of the return match, which gave convincing evidence of the rightfulness of my victory in 1985. And it is well known that history, even chess history, does not have a subjunctive mood.”
D. Goodman reported on the final press conference for CLR: “Both Gary Kasparov and Anatoly Karpov spoke very little to the press during the world championship match. But afterwards, Kasparov talked in his usual open fashion about the title battle and about a different kind of fight with FIDE President Florencio Campomanes. Karpov too, granted interviews, though his comments were much briefer. The former champion told the BBC and London’s Thames Television that a patch of bad luck and time pressure accounted for his defeat. His best effort? He liked the victory in game 19.
Kasparov offered three separate explanations for his late-match losses in games 17 to 19. Else where, the reader may judge for himself the events surrounding l’ affaire Vladimirov. For the moment, the champion noted that he lost sight of his original, limited goal “to score 12 or 12½ points.”
“When the games got beautiful,” he stated, “I forgot my major aim.” And what liberated this artistic ambition on Kasparov’s part was his third putative failing — overconfidence after taking a 9½-.6½ lead. “I have to admit,” he explained, “that I thought the match was won, and I couldn’t imagine Karpov being able to fight back in such a position.”
When asked if he felt that he could recover after the third loss in a row, he answered, “Yes, because after the 19th game, one of my assistants, Victor Litvinov, spelled out to me that I only had to make 12 points to win. Once I understood that, the rest was easy.” His favorite wins? ,he liked the victories in games 16 (“it was an extremely complex game, and Karpov was never better”) and 22.
Kasparov believes that Andrei Sokolov has little chance to defeat Karpov in their candidates’ match this coming February and that there will be a fourth Super K contest late neat year. His unequivocal prediction of the outcome: “Karpov will have no chances to win.”
Yet even more unequivocal is the world champion’s vow regarding Florencio Campomanes: “He must go. I will fight him to the end.” And on another occasion, he spoke determinedly about a “war to the death.”
Over the past two years Kasparov and Karpov have contested three bitter matches involving 96 games. Kasparov has a lead of 13 games to 12 with 71 draws.