The American grandmaster Hans Niemann had not left his apartment for four days before our lunch on a cold afternoon in the Flatiron District in New York City. He’d been playing with his table tennis robot, accepting food deliveries and practising chess. He’d been searching for novelties in the ancient game and analysing himself for weaknesses. He can play for 10 hours a day, and keeps a series of sparring partners on speed dial.
Niemann, 21, ought to be enjoying the shine of a bright young chess career. Five years ago, he ranked 1,157th in the world — today he is 20th. But during that feverish rise, Niemann has also cultivated a reputation as the game’s pre-eminent anti-hero, quick to conflict and controversy. This cultivation appears purposeful and remarkably effective.
He arrives at our table late, with a tousled mop of hair and a rumpled Polo shirt. He’s chosen Mari Vanna, a maximalist Russian restaurant near Gramercy Park. It is empty when I arrive — of people, anyway. Antiques, curios and nesting dolls line shelves, Christmas decorations are stuck on walls, lace curtains screen the windows and my seat is a floral couch with matching pillow. Our waiter Volodymyr is glad to finally have something to do.