Every now and then one witnesses a game that just can't be forgotten. Whether it be a "wild-eyed" sacrifice, a chaotic time scramble, or a bizarre opening, the unforgettable game always has that one eccentricity to differentiate it from all the rest and make it, well, unforgettable.
A game that certainly qualifies as one of the above occurred during the third round of a five round tournament I was directing in Bridgeport, Connecticut in the mid-1970s. The local favorite was a Master named George Olte, who, to the best of my memory, was second ranked in the tournament to Armonk, NY Master Dan Samuels. It was anticipated that both players would meet in a titanic, last round war for first place. But, before that could happen, they both had to survive that dreaded "third round on Saturday night"(Yes, weekend tournaments in those days were ALWAYS five rounds) followed by the fourth round early the next morning.
Olte, whose rating was hovering at about 2200, appeared to have a virtual "lock" on a 3-0 record going into the penultimate round on Sunday, since his third round opponent was a relatively unknown 1750 player, Robert Nichols. In addition to the 450 point rating difference, Olte also had the White pieces. Like everyone else, (except for Nichols!) in my own mind I had already scored the game as a win for Olte even before the first pawn was pushed.
Although the game produced by the two players was fairly interesting throughout, what makes it memorable is the utterly bizarre manner in which it ended.
White: G.Olte Black: R.Nichols
Alekhine's Defense
1.e4 Nf6 2.e5 Nd5 3.c4 Nb6 4.d4 d6 5.f4 Bf5 6.Nc3 g6 7.d5 Bg7
8.e6 h5 9.exf7+ Kxf7 10.Nf3 Bf6 11.Be3 e6 12.Nd4 Re8 13.Kf2 Bg4
14.Qd2 c5 15.Nxe6 Bxe6 16.dxe6+ Rxe6 17.Bd3 Nc6 18.Rhe1 Qe7
19.Nd5 Qd8 20.Nxf6 Qxf6 21.Kg1 Nd4 22.Kh1 d5?! [Opening the
position now only benefits White, the better developed player.]
23.cxd5 Nxd5 24.Bc4 Rd8 25.Bxd4 Qxd4 26.Qxd4 cxd4 27.Rxe6 Kxe6
28.Rd1 Kd6 29.Rxd4 [White is a clear pawn ahead and should win
routinely. How he wins, however, is anything but routine!]
Kc6 30.Rxd5 Rxd5 31.Bxd5+ Kxd5 32.Kg1?? 32.g3 followed by
33.Kg2.] Ke4 33.g3 Kf3 34.Kf1 h4! a mess White has gotten into!]
35.f5??! stage.] hxg3 36.h4 [Might as well try this, since the
alternatives 36.hxg3 gxf5 and 36.fxg6 gxh2 are simple Black
wins.]
So what did Black do at this point? He RESIGNED, of course!! I still remember the confused look on Olte's face when his opponent graciously held out his hand. Amazingly, George had the wherewithal to ask Nichols if he was, in fact, resigning. (Were I playing the white side of the board, I probably would've retorted with something to the effect of "Leave me alone, I'm not resigning yet!" and thereby tipped him off to the fact that he was really winning at the moment he was trying to resign.) Nichols responded in the affirmative, that he was resigning since he couldn't prevent White from Queening--all of which is quite true, except for one not so insignificant detail. George--after he accepted the resignation, of course--then went on to demonstrate that 36...g2+ 37.Kg1 gxf5 38.h5 Kg3 39.h6 f4 40.h7 f3 41.h8=Queen, but f2 is MATE!
Computer chess enthusiasts will recognize that what happened here is a practical example of the "Horizon Effect",the analysis of a given position after a prescribed number of moves without taking into account the very next move beyond the "horizon".
This game is probably one of the best illustrations I've ever seen of that old maxim "No one ever won a game by resigning."
Source: Glenn Budzinski