Aishwarya Kumar Apr 6, 2026, 07:00 AM ET HANS NIEMANN CRINKLES his nose, leans forward and, without regard to polite society enjoying brunch on this spring Sunday morning in New York, launches into Joe Rogan and anal beads. "What type of..." Niemann says and then cuts himself off. The 22-year-old "bad boy" of chess brushes his unruly brown hair away from his forehead as he sits across from me at Ol'Days Farm to Table, a vibrant cafe that features organic dishes and draws a young, hip crowd. "Should you really speak about a teenager that way?" he asks. He narrows his eyes. He wears a sour expression and suave outfit: a gray bomber jacket, black pants and brown suede shoes. "When it's something so false," he says. The sentences come out not fully formed. "The biggest platform in the world." Niemann's brunch arrives: grilled chicken with butternut squash puree, tabbouleh and arugula, along with a side of smoked salmon and sourdough bread.…