Chess Encounter of the Dream Kind

On a frigid February night, I found myself swept away into a dreamlike encounter with none other than Bobby Fischer himself. Contemplating whether I was embroiled in a cerebral duel with the chess maestro, I recalled tales of living players engaging in matches with those who had transcended mortal bounds. Victor Korchnoi's legendary clash with Geza Maroczy via a psychic medium resonated—a surreal contest that Korchnoi emerged victorious from.

My dream unfurled with an invitation to Bobby's esteemed chess haven, where I was warmly greeted by the center's manager. It seemed my modest exploits in the chess world, particularly as Tony Rook's cohost on Chess FM, had captured Bobby's attention. Guided through the labyrinthine halls, I marveled at the bustling playing hall, alive with the dance of intellects engaged in strategic warfare. A pilgrimage to Bobby's shrine of trophies followed, a testament to his unmatched brilliance.

Yet, as time stretched on, Bobby remained elusive, akin to Spassky's wait for him at the 1972 World Championship's opening ceremonies. Contemplating departure as the hour grew late, a maternal figure—perhaps Bobby's own mother appeared, bearing a gargantuan chocolate cupcake. Enchanted by its allure, I resolved to linger, only to awaken abruptly, penning down every vivid detail.

In the absence of Dr. Reuben Fine's scholarly tome, "The Psychology of a Chess Player",  I embarked on a systematic analysis inspired by his works on endgames. Pondering whether this dream heralded a new chess motif, I contemplated the tableau before me. Was it a queen sacrifice or a diversionary gambit with a twist? Accepting food from one's opponent, a time-honored tactic, seemed woven into the fabric of the dream.

Consulting my trusted companion, "Chess Rules of Thumb" , revealed Walter Browne's culinary stratagem  (Rule 137)  enticing one's opponent with steak for a strategic edge. Perhaps it was during Browne's encounter with Bobby that the notion of culinary sacrifices was born. And the colossal cupcake, initially innocuous, now harbored treacherous implications , a poisoned pawn offered by Bobby himself.

Confusion gripped me as I grappled with Bobby's cryptic move,  was it a strategic ploy or a tempting trap? Recalling Bobby's fatal misstep against Spassky, I realized his modus operandi: offering material only for strategic advantage. With resolve strengthened, I rejected the cupcake and its insidious allure, adjourning the game by waking.

Yet, the game remains suspended, awaiting Bobby's next move, a testament to the enduring mystique of chess and the enigmatic allure of its master tacticians. And while Ruben Fine's analysis of past world champions may have offered insights, its omission ensures the account  remains PG-rated, leaving the dream's interpretation to the imagination.