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In 1955, I played in Mar del Plata a game that lasted exactly the same as the above [Note: he refers to Pachman-Gligoric, Moscow, 1947], but without interruption. From years ago a very prosperous business flourished in Argentina based on the postponed games, since in the last round it is clear who can win a prize. Consequently, some games were sold, so to speak, to those who were most likely to win. To avoid this, the rule that the last round had to be played until the end was introduced. No player should leave the tournament hall. All were subject to the strict supervision of the referee.

On that occasion I played against the great star of the Argentines: the young grandmaster Panno. For him and for me it was a game of identical importance, to which we both went equally tired. The night before, the mayor of Mar del Plata had offered us a large reception with unspeakable quantities of selected drinks. The party lasted until three in the morning and I woke up with a headache that made me feel at least ten kilos heavier than usual. At about two in the afternoon the last round of the tournament began. The organizers calculated that all the games would end, at the latest at about ten o'clock at night, because at half past ten the banquet and the distribution of prizes were scheduled.

Around half past ten, all the official guests were punctually in their positions, since in South America such an act constitutes a greater sensation than a football match. The champagne was iced and the appetizers on the plates, but the banquet could not start. Panno and I were still sitting at the chess board. I played with Black. For a long time I had to reject my adversary's attacks, but then I went through the counterattack. After about five hours, the situation was such that I could have won the kick with a single play. Nervous about the joy of that perspective, I made a terrible move and had to keep fighting hard in the final phase. [Note: According to Stockfish, the mistake was 38. … c3?. The proper move was 38...Nf3 39. Bxf3 Bxf3+ 40. Kh2 Bg4 41. Rc6 Rd2+ 42. Bf2 Rxf2+ 43. Kg1 Rc2 - +] All other games were over and the organizers were already giving us disapproving looks. If it were for them, they would have forced us to end the game regardless.

The trouble was that the situation had become, precisely then, very delicate. I saw that I only had one chance of victory. Before I could initiate the decisive maneuver, it was necessary to numb the attention of my enemy, because, with a precise defense, my maneuver could never have curdled. [Note: Pachman should be referring to the exchange of his rook by a bishop, resulting in a winning same-color bishop ending, operation that he successfully achieved on move 73]. The exhausting effort of acting with maximum detours was imposed: an almost endless coming and going of pieces. My adversary patiently rejected the slightest threats. Around eleven o'clock at night, the restlessness was already clearly visible in the organizers. Even the tournament director decided to approach our table to ask us prudently, quietly: "How long, gentlemen, do you think the game can still last?" "Not much time," I replied, unperturbed; three hours at most.

Apparently, he considered my answer as a joke. However, neither at one, nor at two, nor at three in the morning was the game over. The first guests left the stage and the spectators went home. There were only the organizers' and the participants in the tournament, since the latter were awaiting their awards. At exactly half past three in the morning Panno resigned. Quickly, and without any formalities, we collected our prizes and went to sleep, but the dream did not come to me. I went to bed; however, I stayed awake until eight. Then I marched to the beach, but not even the sight of the waves that broke gently in the sand served to relax me. The brain was always working in the same direction. Panno would still have had a chance of boards if he had done this on move 90 and not this one ... ===