Queen of Chess, the newly released documentary about the extraordinary careers of Judit Polgár and her sisters, stirred up a flood of memories for me.
I first met the Polgárs in 1981, when Susan—still called Zsuzsa by her family and friends—returned home after winning the World Under-16 Girls Championship. Zsuzsa was 12, I was 15, and we became instant friends, playing endless blitz games just before the Lloyds Bank Tournament in London, where I was scheduled to compete.
Her parents told me that their youngest daughter, Judit, was actually the greatest talent in the family. I remember being utterly amazed that a reigning world champion had a five-year-old sister who was supposedly even stronger.
As Zsuzsa and her sisters continued to improve, it became clear that our paths would cross again as I worked toward becoming a top player. Sure enough, in 1985, at the tournament where I earned my Grandmaster title, it was my victory against Zsuzsa that secured the final point I needed.
In 1987, I met the Polgárs again at a strong Open tournament in San Bernardino, Switzerland. I won my final-round game against Sofia Polgár to tie for first place.
A fiercely competitive blitz tournament was organized to see who was the best blitz player in the field. The field was stacked: veterans like Vlastimil Hort, the formidable Kiril Georgiev—the 1983 World Junior Champion—along with Cvitan, Lobron, and, of course, all three Polgár sisters.
I began cutting through the field and eventually played my first tournament game against Judit—the “Queen of Chess.” She was just 11 years old, yet she generated enough counterplay in a difficult position to hold me to a draw. I also drew with Kiril and convincingly won my other games. Going into the final round with 9 out of 10 points, I saw Judit and asked how she was doing. She smiled and said, “Well, I drew with you.”
“So you have 9½?” I asked.
She simply nodded.
I was stunned. The 11-year-old prodigy had not only beaten her two older sisters—she had dominated the entire field. I expected to finish second, but I won my last game, and Judit surprisingly lost hers to a lower-seeded player. That twist handed me a first place that felt almost undeserved.
In 1988, I was appointed coach and captain of the U.S. Women’s Olympiad team. That Olympiad reshaped the chess world: teenage sisters Susan, Judit, and Sofia, together with Hungary’s Ildikó Madl, captured the team gold—ending the long-standing dominance of the Soviet team. The U.S. finished 11th, a significant improvement for us, but what struck me most was seeing how the girls I had met seven years earlier had risen to the absolute top of the chess world.
In 1990, as I prepared to leave chess for a career in finance, I played my final major tournament at Wijk aan Zee—now known as Tata Steel. I competed in the main event, while the Polgár sisters played in the Challengers section. One evening, returning from a celebratory dinner after beating Nigel Short, I spotted Susan heading upstairs with a table tennis paddle. I immediately asked if there were tables in the hotel. She laughed and said her sisters were playing downstairs—and led me there.
I happily played several intense matches against Sofia and Judit, both expertly trained back in Hungary. Unfortunately, during the second match I felt something go terribly wrong with my back. I had badly pulled it. The next day was agony, but I still forced myself to play. That injury likely cost me the tournament; a painful loss to John Nunn—from a winning position—dropped me to fourth place and convinced me to follow my wife’s advice and move on from professional chess.
Although my chess career slowed, in 1992 I played two strong quick-chess tournaments in New York. I tied for first in both, winning the tiebreaks against John Fedorowicz and Maurice Ashley. In the G/10 event, I defeated Judit; in the G/15 event, I drew with Susan.
In 1997, Susan founded the Polgár Chess Center in Queens. Around 1999, she unexpectedly called me.
“Max, I’m organizing a really strong blitz tournament at the center—my sisters are coming. Can you make it?”
Of course I could.
I won all my games, including those against the sisters. By then, Judit was already a top-20 player in the world. Wanting revenge—and since we were finishing our games quickly—we played two additional blitz games, both of which I somehow won. My friend Alexander Rappaport, a culinary expert who now runs over 20 restaurants in Moscow, had driven me there. Watching me score 11 out of 11 in the tournament and then win two more games against one of the greatest blitz players of our generation, he asked, quite seriously, whether I had ever lost a blitz game. It was a funny question—he wasn’t a chess expert—but I still remember it fondly.
After many years managing an investment fund in Russia, I returned to New York and was invited to commentate the Final Four University Championships for the top Pan-American teams. To my surprise, the head coach of the leading university was none other than Susan Polgár. She and her husband, Paul Truong—whom I’d known since the 1984 U.S. Junior Championship—came to New York several years in a row as their team kept winning. We spent many wonderful evenings over dinner, reminiscing about old times.
My most recent meeting with the Polgárs was at the Chess Olympiad in Budapest, held there largely thanks to Judit’s tireless efforts to bring chess to Hungarian youth. She now runs programs in thousands of schools across Hungary and has expanded her curriculum to Greece and Spain as well.
I also attended Judit’s annual Chess Festival in Budapest, where I saw all three sisters again. Though they were busy, we shared some warm moments together, and I had a lovely conversation with their parents, Klára and László—45 years after first meeting them. Reconnecting was truly special.
Today, as I remain active in chess education through Chess Max Academy, and as Judit continues her work with the Judit Polgár Foundation, I’m certain our paths will cross again—and that we’ll once more relive some of those unforgettable early days.