Well said.
Norway tournament - Magnus and Gukesh

No, this is not true , Magnus has not been officially diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome or any condition on the autism spectrum , In fact, he has personally denied having it

🎯 The Slam Heard Around the World Last night, during the Norway Chess 2025 tournament, something happened that shook the chess world — and oddly, moved me more than any checkmate could. Magnus Carlsen, arguably the greatest chess player of all time, lost a game to 19-year-old World Champion D. Gukesh.
But it wasn’t just the loss. It was how he lost — from a clearly winning position, in time pressure, with a blunder that made him physically slam the table in frustration. It was raw. It was loud. It was deeply human.
In a sport defined by silence, stillness, and calculation, that thud was deafening. Some people were quick to call it unsportsmanlike. Others labeled it immature. But to me? It was a moment of painful honesty. It reminded me that even the calmest minds can buckle under the weight of their own legacy.
Think about it: You’re playing in your home country. In a tournament bearing your name. Against a rising star who represents the next chapter of the game you once dominated completely. And then, right when it matters most — you fall. And worse? You know that you did it to yourself.
But here’s the beauty in the breakdown: Despite the slam, Magnus shook Gukesh’s hand. He even patted him on the back. That moment held so much grace inside the fire.
It made me think: How many of us slam our own tables in silence every day? How many of us bottle the pressure to perform, to stay perfect, to protect the image the world has of us? Magnus’s table slam wasn’t a tantrum. It was a mirror. And in it, I saw the pain of growth, the humility of defeat, and the lonely burden of greatness. He’s not a machine. He’s a man — and a masterpiece of one.
So if you’re having a “slam the table” kind of day, remember: Even legends lose. Even legends feel. Even legends break. But the classiest ones still stand up, shake hands, and move on to the next game. ♟️ #NorwayChess
Yup.And that's how Magnus won the grand slam by slamming the table

🎯 The Slam Heard Around the World Last night, during the Norway Chess 2025 tournament, something happened that shook the chess world — and oddly, moved me more than any checkmate could. Magnus Carlsen, arguably the greatest chess player of all time, lost a game to 19-year-old World Champion D. Gukesh.
But it wasn’t just the loss. It was how he lost — from a clearly winning position, in time pressure, with a blunder that made him physically slam the table in frustration. It was raw. It was loud. It was deeply human.
In a sport defined by silence, stillness, and calculation, that thud was deafening. Some people were quick to call it unsportsmanlike. Others labeled it immature. But to me? It was a moment of painful honesty. It reminded me that even the calmest minds can buckle under the weight of their own legacy.
Think about it: You’re playing in your home country. In a tournament bearing your name. Against a rising star who represents the next chapter of the game you once dominated completely. And then, right when it matters most — you fall. And worse? You know that you did it to yourself.
But here’s the beauty in the breakdown: Despite the slam, Magnus shook Gukesh’s hand. He even patted him on the back. That moment held so much grace inside the fire.
It made me think: How many of us slam our own tables in silence every day? How many of us bottle the pressure to perform, to stay perfect, to protect the image the world has of us? Magnus’s table slam wasn’t a tantrum. It was a mirror. And in it, I saw the pain of growth, the humility of defeat, and the lonely burden of greatness. He’s not a machine. He’s a man — and a masterpiece of one.
So if you’re having a “slam the table” kind of day, remember: Even legends lose. Even legends feel. Even legends break. But the classiest ones still stand up, shake hands, and move on to the next game. ♟️ #NorwayChess