By Devon Birdsong | Pounding The Rock (PtR), 2025-12-28 22:52:44
1972年8月，鲍比·费舍尔 (Bobby Fisher) 成为了首位（至今也是唯一一位）赢得国际象棋世界冠军的美国人。
这是一项非凡的成就，它将费舍尔推向了近乎神话的地位，其超凡入圣的技艺与冷战的时代背景交织在一起，构成了一段传奇。自那以后，关于他的故事几乎被不厌其烦地书写。无数的电影、传记，甚至一部影射该故事的百老汇音乐剧，都在为一代又一代人重述着这个传说，而费舍尔本人后来遁入避世的隐居生活以及（可以说）一定程度上的精神失常，更为这个故事增添了色彩。
但费舍尔最广为人称道的天才时刻和他最终的与世隔绝，却掩盖了一项或许更为惊人的壮举。
大约在一年前，费舍尔以前所未见的方式统治了世界冠军候选人赛。这项赛事聚集了排名最高的竞争者，他们为争夺一个挑战世界冠军的机会而战。
1971年，参赛者包括了当时除卫冕世界冠军鲍里斯·斯帕斯基 (Boris Spassky) 之外的八位顶尖棋手。在那个时代，苏联棋手主宰着国际象棋界，这既得益于他们异乎寻常的团队协作和集体策略，也源于前所未有的国家资金支持。
苏联非常看重那些能够展示其自诩优越性的机会。而其他国家，则不那么上心。
美国对资助国际象棋事业并无太大兴趣。在许多人看来，这不过是一项业余爱好者的竞赛，投入巨资似乎并不划算。国际象棋（尤其是美国国际象棋）长期以来被视为一种难登大雅之堂的消遣。鲍比·费舍尔的崛起，发生在一个无人问津的环境中，或许也正因如此，他才得以脱颖而出。
用现代体育来打比方，苏联人就像是挥金如土的洛杉矶道奇队，而费舍尔则是“点球成金”的奥克兰运动家队。
在1971年的世界冠军候选人赛中，八名棋手有四名来自苏联。其中一位，提格兰·彼得罗相 (Tigran Petrosian)，是曾击败过斯帕斯基的前世界冠军。
接下来发生的事情，无人能够合理预见。鲍比·费舍尔以绝对优势碾压了所有对手，取得了18.5胜仅2.5负的战绩。他的两个对手更是被他剃了光头（0-6）。让一位世界级的竞争者一胜难求已是令人难以置信，而对两位世界级棋手做到这一点，堪称史诗级壮举。
直到决赛，费舍尔才输掉了第一盘棋。最终还是由一位前世界冠军才从他手中艰难地拿下一分。即便如此，费舍尔仍以6.5胜对2.5胜的成绩击败了他。
大多数人没有理解彼得罗相在决赛中取得首胜的意义——它终结了国际象棋历史上最伟大的不败连胜纪录。追溯到之前的比赛，费舍尔在全球最顶尖的棋手面前，取得了惊人的20连胜，期间没有一盘和棋。至今无人能望其项背。
要恰当地表达这个数字有多么疯狂，你必须考虑到马格努斯·卡尔森 (Magnus Carlsen)——当今时代的象棋天才（被许多人认为是史上最伟大的棋手）——在顶级赛事中，他从未能在没有和棋或输棋的情况下取得超过6场的连胜。他甚至连费舍尔纪录的一半都没达到。
你可以争论时代、技术以及后来国际象棋的普及程度，但这项纪录依然屹立不倒。大多数人认为这是对独一无二天才的致敬。
而我认为，这是竞技史上，偏执所能带来的最积极的体现之一。
要在任何形式的竞争中成为伟大的赢家，天赋是必备条件。这一点众所周知。但要统治对手呢？这就需要一种对失败近乎偏执的恐惧，这种恐惧感只有划时代的巨星才会拥有。
在体育领域，我们常听到“应有的敬畏之心”（appropriate fear）这个词。教练用它来告诫球队不要轻视对手，我也认识一些人觉得这个词有点小题大做。但我却认为，这是体育界最有道理的说法之一。
任何球队都可能打出一波连胜。概率本身就支持这一点。最终，即使是平庸的队伍，在数学上一切因素也终会恰好排列组合，让连胜成为必然的结果。
所有球员同时找到了状态，投篮手感集体爆发，全队拼劲十足，健康的阵容保持了统一性，教练也偶然发现了此前未曾考虑过的策略。无论出于何种原因，一切都水到渠成。
然而，要让连胜得以延续，一个人必须心怀恐惧。他必须以一种刻骨铭心的方式惧怕失败，就像那个从未忘记高中时被篮球队裁掉的迈克尔·乔丹 (Michael Jordan) 一样。
那支公牛队取得72胜10负的战绩，其实毫不令人意外——因为乔丹严肃对待每一个对手。这与数学无关。乔丹知道，即便胜场数少一些，他的球队依然能以头号种子的身份进入季后赛。但他想要的是统治，是在季后赛开始前就彻底摧毁联盟中所有其他球队的希望。
为什么？因为恐惧和偏执，他害怕一丝希望就可能让另一支球队超越他，夺走他的总冠军。我把这种心态称为“近乎偏执的恐惧”（inappropriate fear）。
可以毫不夸张地说，昨晚的马刺对犹他爵士队毫无惧色。整个上半场都显得漫不经心。米奇·约翰逊 (Mitch Johnson) 尝试的阵容也反映了这种心态。许多球员直到下半场才似乎真正投入比赛。
他们似乎忘了，爵士队刚刚爆冷击败了东部领头羊活塞队，并且差点击败了湖人和魔术。
他们似乎忘了，爵士队的三分命中率接近50%，而圣安东尼奥在缺少德阿隆·福克斯 (De’Aaron Fox) 的情况下，进攻明显停滞。
马刺队刚刚在两周内三次击败卫冕冠军。他们现在是争冠球队了，你没听说吗？
别误会，这支马刺队天赋异禀。他们取得那些令人印象深刻的胜利绝对值得称赞。但如果他们想成为总冠军，无论对手是谁，他们都需要展现出应有的敬畏之心。而如果他们想成为真正的伟大球队，他们需要挖掘出一种近乎癫狂的状态。
鲍比·费舍尔的非凡成就与驱动他的偏执密不可分。他认定所有人都与他为敌，他的房间被窃听，苏联特工在跟踪他。
正是这种执念，让他从不低估任何一位苏联对手；这种执念，促使他比以往任何时候都更深入地研究他们的棋局和风格；这种执念，迫使他进行极具创造性的即兴发挥，以至于几乎无法预测。正是这种执念，让他在没有对手那样的预算和政府实验室、没有同等天赋的队友、也没有如今主宰棋坛的计算机驱动分析的情况下，统治了他们。
最终，他的偏执得到了印证。克格勃确实在监视他。苏联人建立了一个专门研究他策略和心理的实验室。甚至FBI也介入其中，试图确定他是否已成为苏联的棋子。他在1972年世界冠军赛上坐的椅子，后来被发现装有窃听器。
我并不是说维克托（文班亚马）和他的队友们需要陷入鲍比·费舍尔晚年那种真实（且相对）的疯狂深渊。但他们确实需要开始平等地看待所有对手。没有任何一场对决可以被视为占尽优势，以至于不必全力以赴。没有任何领先优势是绝对安全的，永远都不行。
马刺队至少需要带着应有的敬畏之心去比赛。如果文班亚马想跻身乔丹或费舍尔那样的神坛，或许甚至需要那种近乎偏执的恐惧。
昨晚，他们两者皆无。
赛后观察
- 有一件与拼劲关系不大但非常重要的事情，是斯蒂芬·卡斯尔 (Stephon Castle) 的投篮，尤其是他的外线投射。卡斯尔三分球8投1中，这恰恰凸显了德阿隆·福克斯在这个环节的成功对于拉开空间、帮助队友突破有多么至关重要。我今年至少写过一次，在哈里森·巴恩斯 (Harrison Barnes) 和朱利安·尚帕尼 (Julian Champagnie) 都投不进的情况下，马刺很可能会打得很挣扎，但我当时忘了把福克斯也加入这个等式。在本赛季的这段时间里，巴恩斯和尚帕尼的手感都时灵时不灵，而福克斯显然是迫使对手紧贴外线防守的关键一环。当他们都投不进时，爵士的防守就能更容易地收缩到维克托（文班亚马）身上，并且在没有其他远程火力威胁的情况下紧紧跟防他在三分线外的活动。这真的让我好奇，米奇（约翰逊）是否应该把首发阵容中的某个球员换成突然“库里附体”的凯尔登·约翰逊 (Keldon Johnson)，他是除了维克托之外，少数几个一上场就充满斗志的球员。（如果凯尔登没拿到年度最佳第六人，我们就去闹事！）
- 同时派上杰里米·索汉 (Jeremy Sochan) 和林迪·沃特斯 (Lindy Waters) 的阵容是一场灾难，我真诚地希望本赛季我们不会再看到这个组合。不管初衷如何，这套阵容一上场就葬送了领先优势，并且在任何方面都显得格格不入。空间感很差，球员们看起来毫无默契，虽然我理解这部分是因为他们很少一起打球，但这套阵容绝对把圣安东尼奥的势头吸进了一个篮球黑洞。恐怕索汉的处境开始变得严峻了。如果米奇（约翰逊）连一套适合他的阵容都找不到，他在圣安东尼奥的日子可能就要到头了，那将是件非常令人遗憾的事。
- 卡特·布莱恩特 (Carter Bryant) 和卢克·科内特 (Luke Kornet) 是另外两位真正想要充分利用上场时间的球员，在他们获得的机会里，他们确实做到了。有一种说法是，马刺本应尝试一下双塔阵容，但爵士队当时投篮手感实在太火热，所以即便上了双塔可能也无济于事。布莱恩特的投篮仍在打磨中，他需要更多时间来真正找到节奏，但这是他第一次在场上没有哪怕一次显得迷失。新秀的成长曲线总是充满挑战，但布莱恩特看起来在防守端已经游刃有余，这可能正是马刺在休赛期所需要的，因为他们的锋线轮换看起来会经历一些变动。
- 对于迪伦·哈珀 (Dylan Harper) 来说，这绝对是一场艰难的新秀赛。赛季进行到这个阶段，新秀们必须开始适应漫长的赛程，哈珀看起来确实有些疲惫。这是一场不幸的比赛，但对于新秀来说，这种情况总会发生。值得庆幸的是，他把糟糕的状态留给了对阵爵士而不是雷霆的比赛。我想说的是，在福克斯万一缺席更多比赛的罕见情况下，他绝对应该成为执掌控球权的人选。那个孩子拥有教不出来的球场视野。别误会，我喜欢看他杀入人丛，但他的传球才华是自马努退役以来，这支球队再未见过的赏心乐事。
赛后点唱 – 今夜主题曲：
An Honest Mistake by The Bravery
由生成式人工智能翻译，译文内容可能不准确或不完整，以原文为准。
点击查看原文：What we learned from the Spurs loss to the Jazz
What we learned from the Spurs loss to the Jazz
In August of 1972, Bobby Fisher became the first (and to this day, only) American to win the World Chess Championship.
It was a remarkable feat that catapulted Fisher into the company of near mythos, combining his legacy of transcendent skill with a Cold War backdrop, and has been written about almost incessantly since it occurred. Numerous films, biographies, and even a thinly veiled Broadway musical have recycled the tale for generations, aided by Fisher’s descent into reclusive retreat and (arguably) some degree of madness.
But what Fisher’s most heralded moment of genius and eventual seclusion overshadows is a feat that was perhaps even more remarkable.
Almost exactly one year earlier, Fisher had dominated the Candidates Tournament in a manner never before seen. The Candidates Tournament is a collection of the highest-ranked contenders vying for an opportunity to play in the World Championship.
In 1971, this included the eight best players in chess, outside of the reigning world champion, Boris Spassky. At the time, Russian chess players dominated the landscape of the game, aided by both their unusual degree of cooperation and communal strategizing, and a previously unheard-of amount of national funding.
The USSR took opportunities to showcase its self-proclaimed superiority very seriously. Other nations, not so much.
The United States was not particularly interested in funding chess exploits. It seemed like an expensive investment in what many saw as a hobbyist competition. Chess (and especially American chess) had long been viewed as an otherwise unserious preoccupation. Bobby Fisher’s rise had occurred within a vacuum of interest, and perhaps also because of it.
In modern terms, the Russians were an equivalent to the free-spending Los Angeles Dodgers, and Fisher — the Moneyball Oakland A’s.
Four of the eight players in the 1971 Candidates Tournament were Russian. One of them, Tigran Petrosian, was a former world champion who had beaten Spassky previously.
What happened next, no one could have reasonably predicted. Bobby Fisher absolutely dominated the competition, scoring 18 ½ wins against just 2 ½ defeats. Two of his opponents went 0-6 against him. To hold one world-grade contender to zero wins is incredible; to do it to two world-caliber players is herculean.
Fisher didn’t lose a match until the final. It took a former chess champion to finally tally a win against him. Fisher still took him down 6 ½ wins to 2 ½.
What most didn’t understand about Petrosian’s first win in the match was its significance in ending the greatest unbeaten streak in chess history. Going back to his previous matches, Fisher had won 20 consecutive games against the best players in the world, without tallying a single draw. No one has come close to matching it.
To properly express how insane that number is, you have to consider that Magnus Carlsen, chess genius of the current era (and considered by many to be the best chess player of all time), has never managed to win more than 6 consecutive games against top competition without a draw or loss. He’s never even gotten halfway there.
You can argue about era, and technology, and the popularity of chess since, but the streak remains. Most consider it a tribute to singular genius.
I think it exists as one of the most positive expressions of paranoia in competitive history.
To be a great winner in any form of competition, talent is requisite. This much is known. To dominate the opposition, though? This requires a degree of fear and paranoia surrounding loss that can only be generational.
We often hear the term ‘appropriate fear’ thrown around in the realm of sports. Coaches use it to admonish a team for not taking an opponent seriously, and I’ve known those who consider the term to be a bit dramatic. I, on the other hand, consider it to be more sensible sporting phrases in existence.
Any team can go on a winning streak. Probability argues for it. Eventually, even in mediocrity, everything eventually lines up mathematically so that it becomes a forgone conclusion.
Players all get on the same page at the same time. Shooting streaks combine. Effort is high, and health allows for a unified roster. The coaching stumbles into previously unconsidered strategies. Everything just works, for whatever reason.
For a winning streak to endure, though, one must be afraid. One must fear losing in a formative way, like a Michael Jordan who never got over being cut from his high school basketball team.
There’s nothing shocking about those Bulls going 72-10 – Jordan took every opponent seriously. There was nothing mathematical about it. Jordan knew lesser win-loss records would still allow his team to enter the postseason as the top seed. He wanted to dominate, to crush the hopes of every other team in the league before even reaching the postseason.
Why? Fear and paranoia that hope might allow another team to overtake his; to deprive him of a championship. It’s something I’ve termed ‘inappropriate fear’.
To say that the Spurs did not fear the Utah Jazz last night would not be an exaggeration. The first half felt lackadaisical. Mitch Johnson tried lineups that echoed the sentiment. Many of the players didn’t seem to lock in until the 2nd half.
Never mind that the Jazz had just upset the Eastern Conference-leading Pistons, and had come just shy of upsetting both the Lakers and the Magic.
Never mind that the Jazz were shooting almost 50% from three, and that San Antonio’s offense was visibly stalling in the absence of De’Aaron Fox.
The Spurs had just beaten the reigning champs three times in just two weeks. They’re contenders now, haven’t you heard?
And don’t get me wrong, this Spurs team is talented. They deserve acclaim for those very impressive victories, absolutely. But if they want to become champions, they’ll need to show appropriate fear regardless of the opponent. And if they want to become truly great, they’ll need to tap into something bordering on mania.
Bobby Fisher’s remarkable feats have become inseparable from the paranoia that fueled them. He assumed that everyone was against him, that his rooms were bugged, that the soviets were following him.
It was an obsessiveness that kept him from underestimating any of his Russian opponents, that spurred him to study their matches and styles more than ever, that forced him to improvise so creatively as to be almost unpredictable. An obsessiveness that allowed him to dominate them, absent anything resembling their budgets and government labs, teammates of equal talent, and the computer-driven analytics that dominate the game today.
In the end, he was vindicated. The KGB was observing him. The Russians had built a lab dedicated to studying both his strategies and psychology. Even the FBI joined in, trying to determine if he had been turned into a Russian asset. His chair at the 1972 World Championship was found to have been bugged.
I’m not saying that I think that Victor and company need to descend to the depths of the very real (relative) madness that eventually found Bobby Fischer in his later years. But they do need to begin to see all opposition equally. No match-up can be seen as so advantageous as to play less than full bore. No lead can ever, ever be safe.
The Spurs need to play with appropriate fear, at the very least. Perhaps even inappropriate fear, if Wembanyama wants to ascend to the mythos of a Jordan or Fischer.
Last night they played with neither.
Takeaways
- Something important that had much less to do with effort was the shooting of Stephon Castle, particularly from downtown. Castle was 1-8 from three, showcasing exactly how vital De’Aaron Fox’s success in this area has been for spacing and in aiding his teammates’ drives. I’ve written at least once this year that the Spurs are likely to struggle in games where both Harrison Barnes and Julian Champagnie aren’t hitting their shots, but I had failed to add Fox to the equation. Both Barnes and Champagnie have been streaky in the stretch of the season, and Fox has clearly been an important cog in forcing opponents to stick to the perimeter. Without any of them hitting shots, the Jazz’s defense was able to collapse on Victor much more easily, and stick to him around the arc in the absence of other long-distance threats. It honestly made me wonder if Mitch should have switched out one of the players in the starting lineup for the suddenly Curry-esque Keldon Johnson, who was one of the only players (other than Victor) who came into the game looking for a fight. (If Keldon doesn’t win 6th man of the year, we riot!)
- The lineup featuring both Jeremy Sochan and Lindy Waters was a bust, and I sincerely hope that we do not see it again this season. Regardless of intentions, that lineup immediately fumbled the lead and just did not look cohesive in any way. Spacing was bad, players looked out of sync, and while I understand that it’s partly because they haven’t played together much, it absolutely sucked San Antonio’s momentum into a basketball black hole. Things are starting to look grim for Sochan, I’m afraid. If Mitch can’t find at least one lineup that fits in, it might be over in San Antonio, which would be a huge bummer.
- Carter Bryant and Luke Kornet were the other two players who were really looking to make the most of their playing time, and insofar as they were allowed, they did. There’s an argument to be made that the Spurs should have given a double-big lineup some run, but the Jazz were so hot in their shooting that it honestly may not have mattered. Bryant’s shooting is still a work in progress, and he’ll need more time to really get into rhythm, but this was the first time that he didn’t really look lost even once in his time on the court. The rookie curve is always tough to overcome, but Bryant looks like he belongs on the defensive end, which may be exactly what the Spurs need come the off-season, as their forward rotation looks to experience some flux.
- It was definitely one of those rough rookie games for Dylan Harper. We’re starting to get to the part of the season where rookies have to adjust to the length of the schedule, and Harper definitely looked tired to me. It was an unfortunate outing, but those are just going to happen with rookies. Kudos to him for saving it for the Jazz rather than the Thunder. I will say, he certainly deserves to be the one running the point in the unlikely event that Fox misses more time. That kid has got vision you just can’t teach. I love watching him drive into the trees, don’t get me wrong, but his passing is a delight not seen on the roster since Manu’s retirement.
Playing You Out – The Theme Song of the Evening:
An Honest Mistake by The Bravery
By Devon Birdsong, via Pounding The Rock