The scene must have been surreal in the 1970s, but it would be even more unthinkable today: the Mangueira drumline, representatives of the Flamengo fans and enough students to fill four buses anxiously await, at Galeão airport, the arrival of a short, frail, buck-toothed boy with bottle-bottom glasses — the most archetypal of nerds.
But it’s not just any nerd. About to turn 20 on the day the plane disembarked (January 18, 1972), Henrique Costa Mecking, known as Mequinho, was then “the Pelé of chess”. Although he hadn’t even won a championship per se at the time, he received a hero’s welcome for becoming the first international chess grandmaster born in Brazil, thanks to his good results in a tournament played in Hastings, in the United Kingdom. At the time, few in the country doubted that Mequinho would be world champion — it was a matter of time, and it wouldn’t take long.
The actual unfolding of the story, however, was much more complicated. As the journalist from Sheet Uirá Machado in “Entre Bispos e Reis”, his debut book, the boy prodigy from Rio Grande do Sul, who already defeated adults when he was still at the beginning of elementary school, would practically abandon chess at the end of that same decade.
After a few years of erratic performance, Mequinho announced that he had been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that affected the nervous system, myasthenia gravis, and that he was at risk of dying before being “practically cured” by faith in Jesus Christ.
From then on, he would dedicate most of his time and energy to preaching, becoming one of the most famous names in the RCC (Catholic Charismatic Renewal), a church movement centered on what the faithful saw as the direct action of the Holy Spirit, including miraculous healings and manifestations of spiritual ecstasy. Mequinho even attended the seminary, but was never ordained a priest, and began to talk about revelations about the end of the world frequently.
In the book, Machado combines detailed biographical research on his central character with teaching about the history and functioning of high-level chess, including the codes used to describe the movement of pieces on the board.
The result of the mixture is often electrifying, as incredible as it may seem — for laypeople, the analogy between chess and war finally starts to make sense —, in addition to humanizing Mequinho’s almost supernatural aura.
Perhaps due to the influence of the young age at which he gained prominence on the boards, the chess player from Rio Grande do Sul maintains a certain childlike aura even as an adult. Sometimes very shy, sometimes mouthy and arrogant, he throws tantrums against supposed dirty tricks from his opponents (which, strictly speaking, has never been uncommon in high-level chess) and, before his religious conversion, he practically cuts ties with his family, who still lived in the interior of Rio Grande do Sul, at the time of his father’s death.
The reasons for this are not clear, says Machado. “He doesn’t talk about it, other people don’t either. Apparently, at the time he was hurt by what he saw as obstacles that his parents imposed for him to dedicate himself fully to chess”, explains the biographer.
“He expected more support — although he had support, his father traveled several times to tournaments with him, but the family made him finish high school, start a degree [em física, logo abandonada]”, says Machado. “Besides everything, there is a personality issue: he is a person who cuts ties very easily. He did this with friends, training partners, etc., and he always did it very suddenly.”
There is also no evidence that he had any type of romantic relationship. “He always said he didn’t have time, that it was too much work and that he wanted to be world champion.”
The work also reveals how high-level chess can take on the shape of a marathon also from a physical point of view, with matches that lasted for five hours one day and could be resumed on the following days. This explains why Mequinho’s illness affected his performance so much and, at the very least, brought to light his attachment to religiosity, although it is not possible to speak with certainty of a causal connection, says the biographer.
“We cannot be completely sure that his religious interest began after he felt ill. He studied at a Catholic school, had priest teachers, his mother was very religious”, ponders Machado.
“At the time of the illness, what can be said is that there was an absurd deepening, a dive. And this dive may have been the way he found to remain able to tell a story about himself, a principle of identity, when his condition as a chess player was threatened by the disease”, explains the author.
“At the same time, he was a somewhat obsessive person — since he was little, with a tendency to become a little fixated on the same game, for example. To embrace very tightly what he dedicated himself to. Chess left and religion took its place.”
