Devangshu Datta: The making of champions

WORM'S EYE VIEW/ Though they are born and not made, a little help does go a long way

In 1929, an Indian called Mir Sultan Khan caused a few shock-waves in the chess world by winning the British Championship ahead of several strong players.

In 1987, Vishwanathan Anand won the infinitely more competitive World Junior Championship in the Philippines. Yesterday, Pentalya Harikrishna emulated Anand's feat in Kochi.

A brief chronicle of the careers of these three sportsmen provides an interesting lateral view into Indian chess down the years.

Sultan Khan was a personal servant of the Nawab of Sargodha, which is now part of Pakistan. The "Nabob", Sir Umar Hayat Khan, was taking a long leisurely four-year holiday in Old Blighty when the British championship came to his notice.

Sir Umar loved chess although he played under Indian rules, which differ significantly from the standard international format. The nawab was aware of Sultan's talent; he gave his protege a crash course in international rules and entered him for the championship.

Sultan spoke no English; he was unaware that opening theory, or chess notation for that matter, even existed. He ticked off moves on his score-sheet because he didn't know notation. Quite incredibly, he won.

Some of his opponents suggested that his linguistic limitations helped him. Sultan couldn't comprehend draw offers and he had formidable stamina and fighting spirit.

Between 1930 and 1933, Sultan twice repeated the feat of winning the "British". He beat some of the best players in the world including former world champion Jose Raul Capablanca.

His tournament career was mostly restricted to the UK because his movements were tied to his patron's. Sir Umar did, however, kindly allow Sultan to represent England at the Olympiads at the request of the English Chess Federation.

In between playing, Sultan returned to his usual duties. His colleagues at the 1929 British Championship were somewhat surprised when Sir Umar invited them to a celebratory dinner "" and Sultan waited on them at table while they enjoyed a sumptuous meal.

When Sir Umar reluctantly returned to his official duties at Sargodha in 1933, Sultan came back with him. He never played competitively again and died a contented pensioner in the 1960s.

Anand is the son of a middle-class Tamil Brahmin family, which had the guts to back his extraordinary talent rather than insist that he choose a conventional career. He was lucky in that his father did a stint in the Philippines when he was a child.

In the mid-1970s, the island nation had a strong chess culture and Anand found his feet quicker than he might have otherwise.

Well-educated in other respects, Anand is essentially a self-taught chessplayer. He devoured books and magazines and played in every available tournament. When he won the world junior at age 17, it came not as a surprise but as an affirmation of his talent.

At that stage, he wasn't yet a Grandmaster although he was reckoned one of the strongest players in his age group.

Harikrishna hails from a small village in northern Andhra Pradesh. He's from a lower-income background. By the time he was 10, his prodigious talent was obvious. His parents moved to the city to allow him to follow his star.

At age 19, Hari's been a Grandmaster for two years. He has a sponsorship from Wipro, which enables him to bear the costs of travel and equipment (laptop/ software) and pay for occasional coaching sessions. He has had the benefit of coaching and training since he was in his early teens. The Wipro sponsorship runs out at the end of this year but Hari is looking for other options. The title will help him find them.

Sultan never saw himself as a professional. Anand turned pro only after completing the Grandmaster title, doing his graduation, and considering other options. Hari has been a professional and the main earner for his family since he was 12. Champions are born, not made. But a little help goes a long way.