from "Bretano's Monthly: New Series" 1880:
CHESS.
BY H. C. ALLEN.
[Address all exchanges and correspondence relating to ihis department to H. C. Allen, No. 287 Broadway, N. Y.]
PROFESSIONALS AND PROFESSIONALISM.
This subject has long been a matter of discussion among writers on chess in England. It is only of late that the discussion has become embittered and personal, in certain English and Scotch chess papers, arising out of the altercation concerning the unsatisfactory issue of the last meeting of the Counties Chess Association. It is not our purpose to enter the field of British chess politics, and take part in the controversy which in England waxes warm, and threatens to array the British players in two ranks, in bitter and uncompromising antagonism, if it has not already done it. It is enough for us here in America to watch the struggle, and by profiting by the lessons it teaches, make it a source of benefit to ourselves, as it will doubtless prove to be in the end to our friends across the water. The agitation caused by this discussion abroad has been to some extent felt in this country, and the subject has been taken up by several of our leading papers, without reference to the particular causa belli which operates in England, but on account of the unfortunate and untoward circumstances arising out of our late Congress. In our issue for April last, we expressed the opinion that professionalism is a bane to the game of chess. In spite of adverse criticism in a portion of the chess press, we adhere to our opinion, our convictions only strengthened by their arguments; because, that which we here dignify by the name of argument has consisted only in the citation of the names of Staunton, Anderssen, Harrwitz, and other great players, the assumption that they were professionals, and the triumphant query, "Were they a bane to chess?"
If we should grant that every expert player that ever lived was a professional, the admission would not make against our position; for it is not the professional player, but professionalism, that is harmful to the game. If we adopt the meaning commonly given to the term "professional," when applied to a chess player—which is "one whose occupation, or known employment as a means of livelihood, is playing or practising chess ''—we use the term in the same sense as when we apply it to any other means of getting a living; and we are far from asserting that there may not be—nay, we are sure that there are—very many such professional chess players who are men of high moral qualities, and of unquestioned honor. These men, while they remain so, can never be a bane to chess.
The danger comes from the fact that humanity is frail, and the temptations to which the professional chess player is exposed are exceptionally great. He who adopts chess as a means of support finds but a small field in which to glean; opportunities of money-making in considerable amounts are rare, and when a chance does come to win valuable prizes in some great tourney, the professionals are tempted to consider them as their own of right, and to adopt improper methods of securing them to themselves, regardless of the objects of the tourney, as well as of the intentions of those whose money they seek to pocket. It is this tendency which makes them dangerous to the interests of the game; it is when this tendency has prevailed, and professionals have succumbed to temptation, and habitually practice arts which are foreign to their profession, that they become a positive bane to chess.
Whatever may be the case in other lands, it is lamentably true in this country that expert players have too frequently fallen into temptation, and ceased to be honorable players. It seems to be a natural law, applicable alike to chess as to rowing, racing, ball-playing, and other sports, that great abilities carry with them temptations great in proportion. The mediocre player, who scorns to cheat an adversary, becomes an expert, and acquires some reputation, of which he is proud; through long and patient practice, he becomes a master; he stands out prominent in his club or coterie, and those of the ordinary class begin to look upon him as their standard of perfection; they judge him by his record; his friends flatter him, perhaps, as a "coming Morphy;" apart from any desire of money-getting, which may not enter into his calculations, his pride of place obtained, his ambition to retain or advance it, are incentives as powerful as the love of money is, and the temptation to do wrong, in order to sustain a reputation as a player may be as great, in one who is seeking only fame, as the desire for gain is in another, who cares only for the money. The young player, puffed up with the fulsome and extravagant praise of his friends, enters his first tourney; it is but natural that his desire should be not to disappoint his little world, and, yielding to the promptings of his ambition, he stoops to improprieties which are likely to increase his chances of success. He buys this game, draws that one by a previous agreement; he adopts quiet methods of securing adjournments in difficult games, so as to get opportunities of analysis; he takes every possible advantage which his ingenuity can devise, while his more honorable adversaries depend on their skill alone. In this contest, it would be surprising if he did not take a higher rank than his merit entitles him to; and so, having acquired a fictitious reputation, he is compelled to resort to like practices in his after contests, in order to maintain it.
By the term "professionalism," we understand, is meant that laxity in morals and that vicious tendency to selfishness which are superinduced by the adoption of chess as a profession, whether for the purpose of gain and fame, or of fame alone. We would define an amateur chess player to be one who plays at chess for amusement, combined with mental exercise. A person does not cease to be an amateur because he plays for "quarters" with his friends, provided he does it because the stake increases his interest in the games; but we would remove from the amateur class that man who, by words or deeds, announces that he seeks a world-wide name as a chess player, and that that is his ambition.
Such an one is, in our judgment, as much a "professional" as he who makes his living by play. Each seeks that which he most needs or desires—this one, money; that one, fame—and the temptations are alike present to both of these, while they never approach the amateur. As we said before, as long as the "professional" resists the^e temptations, and plays in his tournaments and matches with that spirit of chivalry and generosity which ought to characterize every contest of skill, he not only does not do chess any harm, but he enriches the game; but let him adopt the tricks of his trade — as, for instance, dividing stake money, buying or selling games, or hippodroming tournaments or matches, and he becomes a positive injury to the game, and ought to be sent to Coventry by eyery amateur, no matter what his social status and ability as a player may be. The practices of these men have become of late so prominent a feature in our tournaments that every true amateur now looks with suspicion and distrust upon every contest, and is inclined to button up his pocket whenever asked to contribute to a prize. Professionals who practice "professionalism" are really blind to their own interests—for in chess, as in everything else, honesty is the best policy; and if they would return to honest ways, they would find in the increase in the number of prizes offered, and matches gotten up, largely increased opportunities of acquiring money or fame. In a future article, we shall point out the nature and extent of the encouragement the practisers of "professionalism" receive from well-meaning but thoughtless amateurs, and shall indicate our views of the methods to be adopted, to the end that chess may be rescued from the fate which has overtaken other sports, ruined by the great enemy, Professionalism.
I was perusing Capablanca's games at my favorite database, chessgames.com and noticed a 22 move loss to an unknown player. In examining the game, which I expected to be a simul, that fact wasn't clear. So, I tried to find the circumstance and, indeed, it was a simul. But that led me examine Capa's opponent, Augustus H. Beckman.
Beckman was born and raised in Germantown, Pa., an area slightly northwest of Philadelphia. Later, as an adult, he moved to Pitman N.J. Although he had some success OTB, he was more known as a correspondence player.
While relatively few amateurs get their name, let alone their games, published in chess periodicals, Beckman managed this feat regularly, mostly because of either his participation in simuls or his correspondence successes.
In 1887 Beckman played in a simul against Steinitz. Although he lost his game, the fact that he was only 15 was apparently noteworthy at that time.
Beckman played in two simuls in 1889 and scored a win in both - one against Isidor Gunsberg and one against Joseph Blackburne. Gunsberg won 7, drew against C. W. Eccles ad H. Wells and lost only to A. H. Beckman. Blackburne also won 7 and drew 2 (to C. S. Martinez and H. Wells) but lost 2 -to A. H. Beckman and E. Starck.
In 1890 Beckman decisively won a match with Max Blieden +7=1-3. Blieden, born in Philadelphia in 1870, graduated from the U. of Pa. School of Medicine in 1894 after which he moved to South Africa as a sugeon and became the South African chess champion in the late 1920s. Later, Dr. Blieden became head of the E.P. Bauman Children's Hospital in Johannesburg.
Yale Chess Team 1905 (William Woodbury circled)
In 1914, Beckman won the American Chess Bulletin King's Gambit Correspondence Tournament and in 1918 won this publicized correspondence game against William H. Woodbury, formerly of the Yale chess team.
The above game made up for this loss against Woodbury in the 1916 United States National Correspondence Chess Association tournament:
He played the following game in a simul against little Sammy Reshevsky. Although he only drew, he had a decent game when he had to leave.
In a simul event was held on Nov. 18 1922, Capablanca's birthday, at the Frankin Chess Club between 7:30 pm and 11:30 pm. Of the 40 boards Capablanca won 33, lost 1 (to the Pa. Champion Sidney T. Sharp) and drew 6. One of those drawn was A. H. Beckman who was a pawn up at the time of ajudication. The UPA cabled the entire result to Havana, Capablanca's home city for his birthday celebration.
Musical Art Club, Philadelphia
Finally the initial game I stumbled upon. This game was from a 31 board simul given by Capa at the Musical Art Club hosted by the Franklin Chess Club, in which he scored +17=3-1. 10 games were abandoned since Capa had to catch a train to N.Y. at midnight. The players who drew were Miss Sylvia Scott, E. P. Ward and A. J. Smith. Beckman sored the only win, and did so in style.