Searching for Bobby Fischer

Let’s just get this straight off the bat: I’m not a chess player. I am the youngest of four boys, two of whom are chess players. I remember going on family trips when they would play chess in the back of the station wagon…without a board or pieces. I just remember phrases like “Knight to King’s…something or other.” I can play chess, but not well. Although I do have one high-point in my chess playing career; I beat my older brother…once. I never played him after that. I don’t know if he let me win or if I won straight away, and I really don’t want to know at this point, it might ruin the memory.

I say all of that to say that I don’t recommend Searching for Bobby Fischer because I am some sort of chess aficionado, and I’m guessing many of you are in the same boat. Searching for Bobby Fischer certainly is a movie about chess and the real-life child prodigy Josh Waitzkin and the mysterious Bobby Fischer. There certainly are scenes about chess in the movie, but this movie isn’t about chess. It is about childhood, parenting, and finding balance in life.

I coached soccer for nearly 28 years and found many different types of players. Some played because their parents needed them to participate in an athletic endeavor, some played because they liked it, some played because they loved it, and some played because they believed that soccer was life. Most of the kids in the last two categories played soccer year-round. Their parents drove them to out-of-state tournaments, paid for tons of soccer gear, and sacrificed their own lives for their child’s passion. While those who loved the game were deeply committed to it, those kids who thought soccer was thought of nothing else.

As a soccer coach, I always wanted kids in these last two categories; they were well-coached and wanted to play. But as a human being, I wished the last category didn’t exist. Sure, it’s nice to have coached a few kids who played professionally, but such players were the exception. For the rest of the players—the vast majority—such sacrifice would often cause me to question whether they were learning the right lessons in life. Don’t get me wrong, learning sacrifice and commitment is a good thing, but there are other things to learn in life.

When I coached I would often have to feign some sort of disappointment when a kid would miss a practice or show up late because of some other commitment, but as a person, I was not disappointed. In fact, I often secretly misquoted scripture to myself and say, “Is not life more than soccer, and the body more than a sweet uniform?” I certainly valued those kids who learned commitment, but I also valued the parents who knew the benefit of a well-rounded childhood.

Searching for Bobby Fischer explores this very issue. On the one hand, you have Bobby Fischer, only alluded to in voiceovers, still photos, or old and grainy film. On the other hand, you have the story of Josh Waitzkin in living color. Josh is a very good chess player, but he is still a kid in need of love unmitigated by his performance. He is a kid who needs support for the many activities he wishes to experience. He is a kid, who in real life, has become an inspiration for many because chess taught him lessons, but chess wasn’t his life. Bobby Fischer, on the other hand, gave up his life for the game of chess, losing his childhood and, in my estimation, losing his life.

Searching for Bobby Fischer is currently available on Netflix.
You can read about Josh Waitzkin on his website found here: https://www.joshwaitzkin.com/

I have not, and will not, receive any sort of remuneration for this movie endorsement.