After Fischerʼs disastrous Round 1 loss, chief arbiter Lothar Schmid received a tight-lipped note from Fred Cramer, Bobbyʼs manager. Emphasizing Fischerʼs cooperation in playing the first game at all despite the fact that "certain playing conditions were not entirely as specified," Cramer passed on his demand that certain changes be made before he would consent to play Round 2. These demands comprised, among other things, the removal of all camera equipment from the playing hall. The note closed testily:

I wish to make it clear, Lothar, that Bobby will not enter the playing hall until the work has been completed. I do not consider his request unreasonable nor, do I think, will you.

Very sincerely,

Fred Cramer

United States Chess Federation

Despite indications of willingness to comply with Fischerʼs demands on the part of the officials, the cameras had not been removed come the second round. Fischer sulked in his room, refusing to come to the board. His clock was started at 5 P.M. sharp. After letting it run for 35 minutes, the organizers finally agreed to stop the cameras, but Bobby insisted that his clock be set back to zero before he would play. A full hour passed, and Fischerʼs chair remained empty. He had forfeited the game, and Spassky was awarded the full point. Fischer now faced a daunting task: Not only did he have to recover from a crushing 0-2 start, but he had to do so with the Black pieces because he had just thrown away a valuable white with the forfeit. Needless to say, an outraged letter from Bobby was not long in coming. He protested the forfeit and ranted about the "grossly below ... minimum" conditions, entering into fuming detail about the unsatisfactory nature and placement of the camera equipment. Finally, he demanded that the forfeit be revoked and that he be given a re-play of Round 2 under satisfactory conditions. He concluded with these words:

When that happens, and when all camera equipment and supporting equipment has been removed from the hall, I will be at the chessboard. I am keen to play this match, and I hope Game Two will be scheduled for Sunday, July 16 at five in the afternoon.

Sincerely,

Bobby Fischer

Determined not to give up prospects of televising the match, Chester Fox (yes, that Fox) entrusted the next stage of the battle to the oily eloquence of his lawyer, who wrote a letter urging Fischer to reconsider his demands. With a slick, delicate balance of wheedling and flattery, Mr. Stein (of Stein and Fredericks, Esqs.) expressed his fervent wish to accommodate Fischer in any way and offered his sincere admiration "for the elevation of Chess in the eyes of the people of the States, through your herculean efforts." Nevertheless, he gently pressed that due to Fischerʼs status as a "folk hero" of his country, it was his duty to "permit millions of Americans to share this experience" through the medium of televison. The note closed with a repetition of his desire to work out a solution to the problem, "which distresses us all, and which we are eager and anxious to ameliorate." "Surely," he cajoled soothingly, "we can come to a reasonable agreement."