One day long ago, Rick Callaghan beat Bobby Fischer in a game of chess.

The match happened in New York City, at a chess and checkers club in Times Square. Callaghan, now a 75-year-old Coeur d'Alene resident, was in his 20s then, already an accomplished player. Fischer was around 14 or 15 years old - an odd-looking kid, Callaghan recalled, who was rumored to be pretty good.

Their first match was a draw. So was the second. In the final contest, Fischer employed one of his favorite openings, a Sicilian variation. Callaghan countered, played a strong game and trapped Fischer's king.

Checkmate.

"Finally, third game I won," Callaghan said. "And I was very embarrassed. Two draws and a win isn't very good against a kid in short pants you've never heard of."

Gracious in victory, Callaghan told Fischer he "plays a good game." The young prodigy replied, "Well you don't, you play like an idiot."

That was typical Bobby, Callaghan said.

"He always was a little bit nuts. He was paranoid. A very unpleasant person," Callaghan remembered. "For years after that he always wanted to replay me. He hated the idea that anyone had a plus score."

The two men remained acquaintances, but their roads diverged. Bobby Fischer would go on to become the most famous - and arguably the most talented - chess player in the history of the game, a kind of Cold War American hero who would defeat his greatest adversary, Boris Spassky of the Soviet Union, at the highly-publicized 1972 world championship.

It would be his finest hour. Aloof and reclusive, Fischer would reside overseas until his death in 2008, at the age of 64.

Callaghan's life would be different. He pursued a successful law career, became a senior international correspondence chess master and eventually moved to North Idaho with his wife, Mary Lynn.

Years have passed since their fateful meeting in Manhattan, but Callaghan will always remember that day he beat Bobby.

"I'd give anything to have those games (on record). I'd love to see 'em," he said. "Bobby was the greatest player that ever lived. His instincts, he seemed to have it. His whole life was chess. He didn't do absolutely anything other than that."

The education of a chess master

Callaghan grew up in Garden City, N.Y., on the western end of Long Island, just a few miles from the bright bustle of New York City.

Like many American boys he learned checkers from his grandfather. A couple years later, when he was about 6 or 7 years old, he discovered chess.

"I was just fascinated from the beginning. I remember going to a bookstore to buy a book on martial arts, and right next to it was a chess book," Callaghan recalled. "I bought the book instead of martial arts. I was just utterly fascinated with it. I got up at 6 o'clock and studied chess. I didn't have anybody to play until I found this place in New York."

That place was the chess club in Times Square. Callaghan would skip school on Fridays, head over to 42nd Street and play chess for money. His opponents were men who understood the complexities of the chess board, and Callaghan learned the finer points of the game, how to move his rooks, knights and bishops to his best advantage.

"I suggest to anybody who wants to improve in chess, play stronger players," Callaghan advised.

Callaghan went to college at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, where he earned a law degree. He returned to the Big Apple and practiced corporate law on Wall Street, a job he "disliked intensely."

"I used to represent GE, U.S. Steel, etc.," Callaghan said. "And frankly I didn't care what happened to them."

He felt it was time for a new direction, and began meeting clients face-to-face, taking on a variety of cases - murder trials, company lawsuits, whatever came along.

"I wanted to do everything, and I did everything," he recalled. "I liked it ... I loved it."

He still found time for chess and checkers, his abiding passions. He won state championships throughout the southeastern United States, played in tournaments and achieved great success in the world of correspondence chess - games played through the mail, often between opponents from different countries.

That was especially interesting during the Cold War era, when Soviet letters were usually censored. Callaghan had to be cautious when he corresponded with a Soviet player; he never knew who might be checking the mail.

"It was really bad with Russia in the old days because of the Cold War," he said. "We understood being careful, we didn't put them in trouble."

After beating enough players and earning enough points, he attained the rank of senior international master, as decreed by the International Correspondence Chess Federation. He was just one step below grand master.

"I think correspondence chess is the highest form of chess," Callaghan said. "You can really plan ahead. Things aren't marred by silly little blunders, mistakes."

In April 2000, Callaghan and Mary Lynn moved into a 1930s-era house on Foster Avenue. They had visited Coeur d'Alene on a trip out west, and decided it would be a fine place to live.

About 12 years ago he was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, which slightly affects his speech.

"I guess I'm very lucky," Callaghan said. "My interests are very sedentary. I like to read. Play chess, study chess. Parkinson's hasn't been too bad. If you have to have a disease, it's not such a bad disease to have. There's no pain."

The game

Chess is a battlefield in miniature.

It requires two players, 32 pieces and 64 squares. There are horsemen, foot soldiers, fortresses, clergymen. The object is to kill the king.

Great players, the ones who go on to become champions, always start young, Callaghan explained.

"It's like a language. It's sad, but a 40-year-old man, I can tell you right now, is never going to be a chess master. Just like a 40-year-old man is never going to be able to speak French without an English accent," Callaghan said.

After 38, he said a player's skills will slowly erode, and he'll be easier to beat.

"That's a little discouraging in a way," Callaghan added.

Callaghan studied hard to become a first-rate player.

Sometimes he would play chess without looking at the board. It was called "blindfold chess," though his eyes were not literally covered - he would imagine the playing surface in his head, and call out his moves.

"Most good players can play blindfolded," Callaghan said. "That's been a curse of mine all my life. Whenever I get bored I play chess in my mind."

It is often said that Bobby Fischer could "see" multiple moves in advance; he not only knew what he was going to do, he knew what his opponent was planning as well.

But Fischer's brilliance, Callaghan explained, was multiform, and somewhat enigmatic. For example, he once asked Bobby why he had made a certain move.

"Because it's the right move," Fischer answered.

A new challenger

Earlier this winter, Rick Callaghan joined the Coeur d'Alene Chess Club.

He met 16-year-old Kairav Joshi, the club president and the reigning city champion. The two have engaged in several matches, and are competing for the Coeur d'Alene City Championship this month.

Joshi won the first game, and Callaghan the second. A two-match, timed tiebreaker will take place at the Coeur d'Alene library in the next couple of weeks.

"(Rick is) a very strong player," said Joshi, a senior at Lake City High School. "He does not make many mistakes. If I play normal, passive chess, then there's no way I can beat him."

The veteran chess master had high praise for Joshi as well.

"He's extremely talented," Callaghan said. "In the slow games, we play just for fun, I've done alright. He can beat me in the speed games. I predict he's going to be a strong master."

Playing against someone like Callaghan, an international master, is a challenge. Joshi, who usually beats lesser opponents in 10 moves or less, relishes the opportunity.

"When I play Rick, I learn a different style, and I learn how to beat that," Joshi said. "He's a formidable opponent. He was a chess celebrity, in a sense. He's the only international master I've played over the board, and he's probably one of the strongest players I've ever played."

Callaghan was looking forward to the championship, but his competitive fire has cooled in recent years. Now he plays for fun.

"I don't really care whether I win, lose or draw. I love to see people excited about chess," he said. "As a young person, if Kairav beat me I probably wouldn't talk to anybody for three days."