Towering

Last week Eugene Torre became the first Asian man inducted to the world chess hall of fame. This ultimate accolade is not the first among his many firsts. The Filipino became Asia’s first grandmaster in 1974 after he won silver in the Chess Olympiad at age 22.

While he did not eclipse the silver with gold, he bettered it when he stunned the iconic Anatoly Karpov to become the first Asian to beat an incumbent world champion. He won more medals in the Asiad and Chess Olympiad, but none of them gold. But in other chess championships in Asia, he won the gold at least four times.

Eugene ended a huge, long and brilliant career of continental excellence and strong world presence in 2016 when he saved his best for last at age 64. A gap of at least four decades did not cause him mental gap. For while he won bronze and not gold, he earned more performance rating than he did when he became grandmaster. Besting his previous best punctuated his retirement. But his legacy is better, he brought chess to Asia and probably elsewhere. The king of Asian chess, and kingly, whose presence exuded depth and wisdom, and on board he was calculation and anticipation personified.

That he was immortalized to the hall of fame at age 70, almost half a century after becoming grandmaster, is not long overdue, although the crowned virus delayed the crowning ceremony. The world chess hall of fame is hardest to please and most discriminating without being discriminatory. After all, it is the hall of fame, not the hall of just any name. Or shame.

The Filipino is now short listed among 36 other chess legends, mostly Americans and Europeans with one Chinese, the only other Asian in the elite club. Even Indian grandmaster and former world champion Viswanathan Anand is not yet there. The name Eugene Torre of the Philippines is now placed alongside Bobby Fischer, Boris Spassky, Anatoly Karpov, Garry Kasparov, Victor Korchnoi and Alexander Alekhine, some of whom Filipino chess fans named their child after. No one however lived up to his billing. Until a rare gem named Wesley So was born, and torn.

Being in that special company is the pinnacle of immortality. Torre didn’t have to compete to be enshrined one of the greats, he completed his career into a lifetime achievement to last eternity. He himself said he has nothing else to prove. Content and retired but not tired, he now coaches and inspires young Filipino wood pushers, hoping to one day find a prince who will soon be crowned king after the country So found and lost Wesley.

Torre framed his mind to dominate the mental sport which rules seemingly but ironically pioneered women empowerment. It’s not the player, but the fictional wooden character of a queen most powerful across the board. Ironically, she is empowered for a solitary mission to protect the king, making her a soldier and a slave. For, once the king is taken, the kingdom is broken. Even if the last man standing is a woman.