Life Lessons and Chess Moves: The Story of Marcel Anderson in Washington Square Park
Chess Hustlers of Washington Square Park: A Game of Life and Strategy
New York City — Beneath the sprawling canopy of a century-old elm in Washington Square Park, Marcel Anderson, known as Marty, ponders his next move. A cigarette dangles from his lip as he cradles a worn queen chess piece in his hand. “The edges are coming off; gosh, I need to buy a new set!” he mutters, then adds with a wry smile, “You lose the queen, you lose the battle, on the board and in your life.”
Marty is one of the dozen chess hustlers who call this iconic park home, turning the game into a livelihood. For $30 an hour, he offers crash courses, while a quick blitz game costs just $10. “You beat me, you get $10; you lose, I get the money,” he boasts, exuding the confidence of a seasoned player. “Thirty years, buddy. You beat me thrice, and I’ll give you this chair,” he chuckles, gesturing to the wide benches that have witnessed countless games.
On a good day, Marty can rake in around $1,000, but on bad days, he’s lucky to see $200 to $300. “The pandemic was tough, man. People started playing online and stopped coming out. The tourists also declined, and we’re left with the regulars,” says the 61-year-old, reflecting on the challenges of the past few years.
He points to a sun-soaked chair in the far corner. “That’s where Magnus (Carlsen) sat and played.” Nearby, he gestures to another spot. “Hikaru (Nakamura) loved that one. And over there, that stone bench? That’s where Bobby (Fischer) used to sit.” The park has long been a gathering place for chess enthusiasts, a tradition that surged in popularity after the 1993 film Searching for Bobby Fischer.
The hustling culture here traces its roots back to the 1970s, credited to a mysterious figure named Bobby Haywood, who set up a chess board on a garbage can and challenged passersby to play for just 10 cents. “At first, people thought he was mad, but they kept showing up,” recalls Joseph, a fellow player. “That was the time when it really caught on—Cold War tensions, Fischer, Russian Grandmasters.”
Among the park’s storied past is the tale of a young Stanley Kubrick, who hustled chess games in his teenage years. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story,” Joseph nods knowingly.
But for Marty and his fellow hustlers, their own stories often go unheard. “No one listens to the hustlers’ stories,” he says with a sardonic smile. Born in Baltimore, he was raised by a single mother among eight siblings. A bright student, he earned a spot at Milford Mill Academy but faced racial discrimination that led to his expulsion after he protested against the school’s treatment of Black students.
After a brief stint at the University of Baltimore and a career in culinary arts, Marty’s life spiraled into addiction and crime. “I went to rehab, got myself back, and began working as a cook,” he recalls. But after his mother’s death and a failed marriage, he found himself in prison, losing everything he had.
His resurrection began in Washington Square Park, where he found solace in chess. For nearly three decades, he worked as a counselor for drug addicts, a job he loved but longed to leave behind for the thrill of the chessboard. “I wanted to retire at the first chance because I can play here all day long and make money,” he says, emphasizing, “Tax-free money!”
As the sun sets over the park, Marty spots a potential challenger and calls out in a booming baritone, “See what you’ve got, man… I think you can beat me.” The man pulls up a chair, and Marty hurriedly sets the clock, ready to engage in yet another battle of wits on the 64 squares that have become his second home.
In Washington Square Park, the game of chess is more than just a pastime; it’s a reflection of life itself—full of strategy, resilience, and the unyielding pursuit of victory.