Another Little Game
Tal; Lasker; Steinitz; Alekine; Botvinnik; Smyslov; Spassky; Euwe; Fischer; Petrosian; Anderson; Capablanca; Morphy; Karpov
Tell me, were their wives subjected to the same things as I am? Standing here as Anatoly Karpov's wife...I sing when the others sing...I clap when the others clap...I smile, just smile. Keep smiling. Pretend it's fine. I must pretend it's all fine, all the time. Pretend that I don't see his little glances to his latest whore, and ignore the fact that everyone else in the room knows what's going on. I may be his wife, but I'm never the woman that he goes home to. I haven't been that for years now. When was the last time he looked at me...looked at me and loved me?
1866 Wilhelm Steinitz
1894 Emanuel Lasker
Come to think of it, when was the last time he came home to me? If I'd have given us a child, would it have made things any different? He only stays to keep his name clean, after all. He knows what scandal there would be if he were to leave me...and to leave me for a woman like her. But he wouldn't. He'd rather keep sleeping with her behind my back, then bring me out – his trophy wife – to look good on any occasion that he sees fit.
1927 Alexander Alekine
1935 Euwe
1948 Mikhail Botvinnik
As long as I behave myself, it all suits him. I'm the perfect wife, after all, or at least – I was. Young, attractive, good background, quiet. Oh yes, he loved me then. Before I knew about his obsession, everything was perfect between us. Perhaps it could be again, if I could turn a blind eye to his behaviour once again. After all, I did before. When he won the first time round, I just sat and smiled. He even bothered to stay the night with me then, and let me think it could all be right between us again. That one night in some hotel in Mirano, waking up in his arms once again and hoping, hoping he'd give up his game and come back home with me. But no. The next morning, he packed me off back to our home. I didn't see him for 5 months, and then, it was once again simply a case of checking I had enough in the account to live on and to buy a new dress for the next time he'd need me in public.
1957 Vasily Smyslov
1960 Tal
1963 Tigran Petrosian
I wonder if I'll be sat with his opponent's wife or someone with some kind of substance for once. As long as it's not the whore, I'm happy...well...as happy as it gets. Tell me, if I screwed around the way he does, would he have the kindness to ignore it? Of course not. But then, he never could stand someone else touching his things...
1972 Bobby Fischer
Well, now there's an idea...if I could seat myself near him...that would be interesting. My 'dear' husband probably still wouldn't notice me, but it's worth a try, isn't it? He used to love me for my fire...but that was before he was married to me. All his whores are boring women...women who'll simper and talk and tell him he's amazing. Not women who's tell him he's an obsessive bastard who...hmm...now there's another idea...
1975 Anatoly Karpov
You can play your little games, darling, just don't expect me to sit around and be the good girl for you. If you can flirt with her in public...well...perhaps your public may like to see what you're really like. I'll take my seat. I'll watch you play. I'll be the good girl for now. But wouldn't it be a real shame if I was to 'accidentally' give them the speech I've been dying to give, rather than the rehearsed one about how wonderful you supposedly are? Enjoy your victory, lover...for now atleast...