Capa Goes to Hollywood

Capablanca's reputation was such that he was famous far beyond chess circles and was a genuine celebrity in his own right. As a celebrity he often found himself in company with the glitterati of the time, among them a Hollywood movie director whose name is, unfortunately, less well remembered than Capa's. Let's call him Deefer (that's D for Director).

Chess was all the rage in Deefer's studio and ruling the roost was an obnoxious chess bully we'll call Beefer (and that's B for Bully, of course). If you've ever played somebody like Beefer—and I have!—you'll know how aggravating it can be. Not only do they manage to crush you, time after time, but they accompany the humiliation with a blistering commentary that leaves you wondering whether your IQ ever climbed into double figures.

Then Deefer had a wonderful idea. In collusion with Capablanca he approached Beefer and said, “I have a young friend visiting from the country. He fancies himself a bit as a chess player and I told him I could arrange for him to play against Capablanca.” Then, with a conspiratorial smirk, he said, “Will you impersonate Capablanca and play against him?”

I can only imagine the impact on Beefer's ego. Impersonate the world champion? Why on earth not? Of course he'd do it!

And so, we had a situation where Beefer, impersonating Capa, was playing Capa, impersonating a yokel.

It wouldn't take a genius to predict the outcome and, except for Beefer, everybody in the studio knew who the “yokel” was. There was much hilarity as the game progressed and Beefer's position began to pass from inferior to untenable.

That's when it all came unstuck because when Beefer's wife arrived at the studio and learned what was happening in the next room she wrote a note—spoil sport that she was—and sent it to her husband. It said, “You idiot! That's Capablanca you're playing.”

Beefer read the note, looked gravely at his opponent, folded the paper, and stood up. He reached across the table to shake hands with Capablanca and said, “Something urgent requires my immediate attention. You play very well, young man. Keep practising. I'm sure that one day you'll make it.”

The source for this story was the same as for my Capa and the Devil post—that is, it was something I read around thirty-five years ago ... so it's dependent on my memory. It seems improbable, though not impossible, that a chess enthusiast like Beefer would fail to recognise Capablanca, especially when it was known that Capa was visiting Los Angeles, so you need to take this story with a grain of salt. On the other hand it may well be true. In either case it is part of the mystique surrounding one of the Caissa's all-time greats.

If any reader knows this story I'd appreciate comments and corrections.