Jan
27

Gnats

January in the mid-South dawned cold and bleak. On the first weekend there was a local sectional. After bombing out the first couple of sessions, the Kid (henceforth to be known as Mr. Miyagi) changed tactics and demanded that I tell him the exact distribution of his hand on every board. We had a 40% game, but I got the message. Count on, count off. The rest of the weekend saw much better results.

And since then the handful of times I’ve dragged myself off to the club has reminded me precisely why I don’t play there more often. This afternoon encompassed exactly why I find my new home away from home so d_mned annoying.

This was only my second time playing with this partner and our bidding understandings are still all a bit hazy. We had an ill-fated Jacoby 2NT followed by cue-bidding auction that culminated in my bidding Blackwood to confirm the number of aces she was holding. She replied that she had 1 or 4 (5♦) — bad news since I was looking at three dead diamonds and the AK of trump so even if her on were the ace of diamonds things were about to get tricky. The only good news was that my RHO did not make a lead directing double. So I bid 5♠ knowing full well I was in trouble; there was a long hesitation by my partner during which I started to hope that one of us was wrong about what sort of Blackwood we were playing and she actually had 0 or 3. She passed and my hopes were dashed when my RHO now started asking questions about our earlier cuebids. I still thought I had a chance of scraping out eleven tricks because, you’ll recall, that he had not doubled for a diamond lead.

The opening lead hit … a diamond, of course. Dummy came down when three small diamonds, and all of her other values in the suit in which I’d shown a splinter; my RHO promptly cashed his ace and king of diamonds and the ace of clubs. We were down two when he returned yet another diamond to his partner’s queen. After the hand, he was reveling in his brilliant double, “Well, I had an ace-king and an ace so I figured we were beating it.” Now I fully recognize that it was my own fault for pushing this auction too high (it’s probably still a good idea not to bid Blackwood when wide open in a suit even if you think you have reason to think your partner has it covered), but I just had to ask, “Why didn’t you double five diamonds?” He looked confused, “She was just responding to your bid.” “Yes, but don’t you always want a diamond lead? Given that auction I never would have led a diamond, I would have looked for you to have a void somewhere.” He got angry as if I were accusing him of something, which I suppose I was, but I really would love to know why when given a lead directing double on a platter he refused to take it and then got the d_mn lead anyway. This is why I hate playing at this club.

Later in the day after my opponents got to game with a Drury auction and I was on opening lead I wanted to confirm what sort of Drury they were playing, “Regular, the only kind she remembers,” my LHO muttered. “In that case what did her rebid of two diamonds show?” “Nothing,” he said. “So she doesn’t have a full opening bid?” “Reverse Drury,” the soon-to-be declarer chimed in, “We play reverse Drury.” “So does her bid say anything about diamonds.” He shrugged, I waited. “She could have a void and bid that way,” he said. “So nothing about diamonds, thank you,” I said. I led a diamond. Then the Declarer spoke up again, “It does show something in diamonds, but it won’t make a difference.” Turns out she was right, she was down one anyway, but when my opening lead was won in dummy with the eight I was seeing red.

In the former case, the player was sort of a beginner so I could excuse it — sort of, but in this case the opponent knew d_mn well that it showed something in diamonds. He’s just a jack-@ss.

But with opponents like these, I must admit, the gifts are as plentiful as the fixes. Playing the hand well doesn’t often pay off well because the defense is pretty bad, but here’s my favorite hand of the day anyway (link here). A pushy bid on my part, but it was a “state of the match” sort of thing and I was thinking my partner probably had extras. Later in the day on a very similar auction I would pass now knowing that her subsequent raise to three of minor could be quite unsound (and that time she was a passed hand to boot), only then I hit her with a twelve-count that would have made for a very easy nine tricks in NT.

Oct
31

Trick or Treat?

Halloween night finds me sitting with a giant bowl of candy, anxiously awaiting the arrival of trick-or-treaters. It seems fitting that I would be stuck with all the treats tonight, all the tricks were at the club last night.

This weekend the Kid and I are headed deep into Arkansas to play at a sectional tournament and we decided to pick up a couple of practice sessions at the local bridge club before the trip. When I first met him I was surprised to learn that he didn’t play at the club all that often. For one thing, there really isn’t all that much else to do around here and for another, he obviously loves bridge.

It was not until I moved here that I learned that there are Howell movements that go up past five tables. In fact, the directors here love to bust out the special guide cards for seven and eight-table Howells. The games are unbearably slow but you get to play a lot of boards and you get to play most everyone else, plus it’s only a two or three board sit out when there’s half a table.

Our first round was a bit rocky, the opponents bid up to 4♥ and went down one when I realized at trick two that our only hope of beating it was to take tricks in the trump suit and so resisted the urge to fly up with my ace in the hopes that my partner had the KJ doubleton, he did and it was off one. On the very next hand though I ran smack into a signal that I have missed before. We’re playing obvious shift on the opening lead, in the case of a singleton in dummy instead of just switching to suit preference, which is standard, we added the clause that a middle spot encourages while either a high or low is suit preference. Great idea, but you have to remember that is what is going on. I led an ace. He played the seven. (“The seven must be a middle spot, if only I knew what he wanted ….”) I shifted to a side suit. The switch in and of itself didn’t hurt us, but it gave my partner the wrong picture of the hand which led him astray later on and gave them an overtrick for a top. On the bright side, later on when my partner was the one on lead and the dummy hit with a singleton, I remembered to play a middle card to encourage.

The night wore on with hand after hand in which the opponents’ bad plays payed off while our good plays came to naught, but the stuff that nightmares are made of was yet to come. We sat down against a pair that are noted for being unpredictable. The Kid had already bemoaned the fact that the movement meant we’d almost certainly have to play them. On the first hand, my RHO was the dealer, we were vulnerable they were not and the auction went like this:

(P)-P-(1♣)-P-
(1♥)-1♠-(1NT)-P-
3NT!- All Pass

As he was entering the contract, North said to his partner, “Your hand must have been pretty good for a passed hand.” “It isn’t points, it’s trick taking ability,” she replied tersely. The Kid led a low spade and this was her “trick taking” dummy:

♠ x
♥ xxxx
♦ Axx
♣ Kxxxx

North stared at her as if she’d completely lost her mind. I probably had the same look on my face. I won my king, returned the nine, which the declarer covered with the ten and my partner won his ace. He returned a small spade which the declarer won with his queen. Then declarer went after the ratty clubs. He played a small club to the king, my partner dropped the jack which was really bad news because I was holding the T9 … so yes, the QJ dropped doubleton and so did the T9 which meant declarer took five clubs, two diamonds, a heart and a spade to make his 3NT contract with a combined 20 HCP while most of the field was in 3♣ making 4. My partner and I fumed. “Well, we needed a good hand,” South said.

On the next hand, both sides were vulnerable and I was the dealer with:

♠ Jxx
♥ J
♦ T98xxx
♣ xxx

Did I consider opening it 2♦? I admit that I did, but only very briefly.

P-(P)-1♥-(X)-
All Pass

Uh-oh. But on the bright side, half my points are in my partner’s suit. As it turned out, South had a 25 HCP hand and North had six hearts to the king. When the smoke cleared we were down 3 for -800 and they do not have a slam their way. The two of them started into this infuriating dialog, “Hearts was my suit I thought one heart doubled was the best spot we’d find.” “I had twenty-four high card points! What’d we get … two, five, eight .. eight hundred?” “There’s no slam our way.” “But I had twenty-four points!” (She can’t count.) “Doesn’t matter, there’s no slam.” “How many spades did you have?” “Even if we get to four spades it isn’t as good.” “What about clubs?” “There’s no slam.” And just when I thought they’d finally gotten the passive-aggressive gloating out of their system South spoke up again, “So that was eight hundred?” I was ready to test the club’s zero tolerance policy, but instead I picked up the next hand.

My partner opened 1NT (he was a point shy, but what’s one point between bridge partners?). I had another 2 HCP hand, but with a five card spade suit and we got out safely for down one in 3♠. I’ll admit I fled the table before I lost my cool and left the Kid to approve the last score. I get why he doesn’t play there more often.

Not all of the weirdness went so badly for us. I finally got a good hand:

♠ Axxxx
♥ Ax
♦ ATx
♣ AKJ

We were vulnerable and our opponents were not. My LHO was the dealer and opened a preemptive 2♦. Not surprisingly, my partner passed. Then my RHO bid 3♣ which was alerted as not being forcing. I doubled which got passed back around to my RHO who then bid 3♦. Now I bid 3♠ and my partner raised me to four.

My LHO led a club and much to my surprise the dummy hit with five clubs to the ten. Clearly something was amiss here. I won my RHO’s queen and started pulling trump. I wasn’t surprised when they broke 4-1, but I was surprised when my LHO (the opener) was the one who had four. As it turned out, my LHO had only two clubs, Qx. The club lead turned out to be rather advantageous though and the only trick I lost was to the jack of trump. The only explanation I can come up with for his 3♣ bid is that he wanted to keep us from finding our eight card club fit. He had the right idea, but the wrong black suit; a 3♠ bid in the same vein would have done them much better.

Jul
23

A Whimper

For most of the week, Doc and I had avoided having any major bidding misunderstandings, but they started to pile up in the last two sessions. I think we were both a bit burnt out perhaps. For my part, I was, as usual, sleep deprived and my patience with the whole undertaking was starting to wear thin even before the following occurred.

Both vulnerable, my RHO opened the bidding in first seat:

(1♣)-1NT-(X)-2♦*-
(P)-2♥-(P)-3♦**-
….

* Transfer, 5+ hearts
** Huh?

Once Doc bid 3♦ I confirmed with my RHO that his partner’s double was for penalty. Under normal circumstances Doc’s 3♦ bid would be game forcing showing diamonds in addition to the hearts, but with an opening bid to my right (say, at a minimum, 12 HCP), 17 HCP in my hand and 8+ HCP to my left there just aren’t enough points left in the deck for Doc to have a game forcing hand. So I decided the initial 2♦ bid had been in error and passed. My LHO then made some noises about how Doc had put the 3♦ bid down with emphasis. Certainly I hadn’t noticed anything unusual in the way he put it on the table — what had been unusual was the fact that we were apparently once again playing with a 50 HCP deck. My RHO didn’t notice anything either, but indulged his partner in calling the director.

The director came over and the opponents explained the bidding sequence and the supposed “emphasis” on the 3♦ bid which they apparently both noticed now that the director was present. The director questioned Doc about our agreements and he confirmed that the initial 2♦ bid should have been a transfer “Is there a possibility you put it down with special emphasis?” the director asked. Doc shrugged which the director seemed to take as an admission that it was a possibility. I was annoyed that Doc didn’t flatly deny it, but then again since I hadn’t noticed how he had put the bid down, I wasn’t really in a good position to argue the point. But since it was my inference from the alleged “unauthorized information” that the opponents, my partner and the director were all discussing I finally jumped in.

“The only thing I took an inference from was that there are not enough points in the deck for him to have a game forcing hand with hearts and diamonds,” I said peevishly. “Some people might still make that kind of bid,” the director insisted. “He doubled me for penalty!” I was exasperated. The director seemed to see my point and let us play it there. Doc made three diamonds thanks to bad defense.

The idea that one is ethically required to fall on one’s sword once a mistake has been made is in error. Had Doc put the bid down in some strange way to draw my attention to the fact that he had made the initial mistake, and that is what alerted me to it, that would be one thing; but it’s perfectly reasonable for me to reason out for myself that my partner has f_cked up. What isn’t as obvious is the motivation of the opponents who have clearly come out better for the misunderstanding, we’re a level higher and, incidentally, 1NTX would have made. It doesn’t seem that they wanted the error to be amended somehow, but they thought they might weasel out some further benefit from it.

Jul
03

Upside Down & Backwards

As I’ve mentioned the Monday Night game at my club is the “no stress duplicate” game. It caters to beginners; there is very little in the way of director calls and a lot in the way of “coffeehousing”. It’s a fun game, certainly a less intimidating introduction to playing in a bridge club than a regular game.

One pair who has come several times now consists of a man who knows nothing about bridge and his partner who knows even less. The former is ostensibly teaching the latter how to play the game. They seem like nice guys, but playing against them is a harrowing experience. The first hand last night I opened 1NT (15-17 HCP). My partner bid 2♠ which we use as a relay to clubs or diamonds. My RHO then bid 3♥. I passed. My LHO bid 4♣. My partner passed. My RHO thought for awhile before bidding 4♥. I doubled which ended the auction. My LHO asked what my bid meant, I explained that it meant I was betting against them making 4♥ and that if I was right we’d get a better score, if I was wrong they would, but in my mind I was thinking, It means I have no idea what is going on and I happen to have four hearts. I found a lead and my LHO put his hand down which was void in hearts and contained two jacks as its sole high-cards. But the way he arranged his hand was upside down:

♠ xxxJ
♥ (void)
♦ xxxx
♣ xxxxJ

With so few cards of any real note, it wasn’t terribly distracting. But on the next hand when he opened the bidding 1♠ and his partner responded 2♥ which he passed(!) now he had an assortment of high cards and again the dummy was placed upside down:

♠ xxJQA
♥ xxJ
♦ xJK
♣ xQ

Bridge is such a tough game to learn, especially initially when everything is new, that complaining about a bit of housekeeping like how one lays down one’s hand seems like nitpicking to me. That said, this was incredibly difficult to process for some reason. I found it interesting that it would make such a big difference to me. So now not only do I not know what their bids means I can’t read the dummy either. I hope at some point in the midst of worrying about what to bid and how to play he’ll notice that everyone else is putting their hand down differently than he is and conform, though perhaps I’ll say something to him next time (I don’t like to correct my opponents unless they ask for my input). As for last night I made sure to overbid my next two hands just so he wouldn’t be the dummy again.

Jun
30

Vexation

The very first hand was an ill portent. When the hand was over, my partner and I slipped our hands back into the board, pushed away from the table and I said, “Well, thanks partner, that was fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The opponents were too stunned to prevent us from leaving. Or, anyway, that’s what should have happened.

Two tricks into the first board I was convinced I knew what my next entry for this ‘blog would be about, but the remaining boards contained such a vast array of frustration and general stupidity that by the end of day I could no longer tell, nor much care, what to write about.

The best thing I can say about the session is that on two hands where twelve tricks turned out to be available for the taking (on a finesse or a suit splitting kindly), we were the only pair that even explored the possibility of a slam. Which is to say we were the only pair in five making six. No difference in score, of course, but we deserve a cookie or something.

Perhaps surprisingly, the worst thing was the opponent who asked dummy to run a long suit and then spent thirty seconds to a minute deciding what to discard … on every single trick. Certainly finding discards wasn’t going to be a cakewalk for anyone on that hand, but it was torture watching her agonize over each and every card, taking one out of her hand, putting it back in and then on one trick she failed to notice that I had already played to the trick so that one took even longer. And then when it was all over she still blocked herself out of her hand. By the end I was ready to scream, “For f_ck’s sake, I’m quite sure you could have done that without giving it any thought at all!” I might as well have considering how miffed she got at my suggestion that she could have played the hand faster. “Rude!” she said. Personally I thought it was pretty rude of her not to consolidate her ponderous pondering, I mean, what was she doing over there? Maybe she was mentally rehearsing her lines for a community production of Richard the III or trying to come up with the names of all seven dwarves (that’s what I do when I need to look like I’m deep in thought, but am really not). Clearly she wasn’t thinking about what she should be discarding.

One interesting issue that came up was: what happens if one realizes they have revoked after the hand is over and the opponents have not caught on? While some people might see this as an ethically ambiguous issue, my teacher was unequivocal when he said that the correct thing to do was to say nothing. The reason being that admitting that one has revoked will automatically give the opponents a good score, likely a top, thereby punishing all of the other pairs sitting the same direction as them.

So when I noticed a revoke and said nothing, I thought I was doing the right thing. Then my partner caught on to the error and corrected it. The opponents were, of course, very grateful and gracious about it, and it wasn’t as if our game could possibly get any worse. Still while it wasn’t fair for them to get a bad score due to the misplay, it wasn’t fair to the other pairs sitting the same direction to get a bad score due to the correction. There is no mechanism built in for simply restoring the score to par if one is caught in a revoke by ones own admission. Perhaps the rules should be changed so that when one catches ones own revoke after a hand is played the score is only adjusted to what one would have made had the revoke not occurred. A deterrence factor would still exist because if the opponent catches the revoke the usual penalty would still apply.

After the game I stumbled out into the heat and realized that there was zero chance of my being able to sleep. It was too hot and I was too agitated. I decided to seek respite in the dark chill of a movie theater and went to go see Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. It was everything one could want from a film of that title. I can’t wait for the sequel, Harriet Tubman: Zombie Slayer.

Unrelated to the above, circumstances beyond my control have pickled my plans for the upcoming NABC. I feel a little sick just thinking about it mostly because Doc had made plans (replete with airline tickets and hotel reservations) to come out for the week and we had been planning on playing most days together. He’s being very understanding about things and we’re still going to try to play as much as possible. I’ve offered to put him together with some of my partners so that he wouldn’t be playing roulette with the partnership desk. I told him that if he was up for an adventure he could play with a couple of the bright beginners that I play with, his response was enthusiastic, “I am more than willing to play with some bright beginners. After all, that was how we met.” And partners like him are what make this game tolerable.

Jun
23

Big & Small

The old man is staring daggers into me, practically spitting the words out, “You must have had a game your way!” It’s an accusation, not an observation. “We didn’t, but that’s beside the point.” It’s true that we should have doubled his contract or, at the very least, we should have played in a part score somewhere. If my partner had doubled the old man’s 1NT opening bid to begin with then I would have known to act over what turned out to be responder’s garbage Stayman bid. This is the point which I am trying to make to my partner but the old man keeps interrupting. I refuse to explain just why his -100 is going to be a good score regardless of the fact that we did not have a game.

This is the same old man who repeatedly demanded to know why he had to skip a table. I’m trying very hard to respect my elders, but my patience is wearing thin.

Earlier in the day I knew the declarer could not have a four card major after jumping to 3NT in response to his partner’s opening bid of 1♣. I knew very little else about his hand. And it was in fact true that he didn’t have a four card major, he had two.

We defended a particularly ill considered 3♣ contract very well beating it 4. I was afraid the declarer might cry. I’m torn between being incredibly proud of how my partner and I defended the hand, and wanting to make her feel better. “Every suit split very badly for you,” I said. She nodded. We moved on.

Playing with and against beginners is such a different experience. For one thing most of the mistakes I make go unnoticed. Yesterday TMS and I put forth an almost perfect defense on one hand. It was just a part score, it didn’t even matchpoint particularly well for us. But as we were putting the cards back into the board, I was inwardly beaming at how we had worked out exactly what to do, and that we had given the declarer no quarter. “Thanks for playing another heart,” I said. “You shouldn’t have played the queen at trick one,” he replied.

He’s right of course, it was the wrong card, wrong signal and potentially a costly error, but it just so happened that in this case it cost us nothing. I did everything right after that. With a beginner, the wrong signal at trick one may have not even been noticed, and even if it were it certainly would have been forgotten by the time we got to the end of the hand. Of course, a beginner never would have led another heart.

Once things have snapped into place it all seems so obvious, but until then …. I opened 1NT, my partner transferred me to spades and then bid 2NT. I liked my hand and with only a doubleton in spades went to 3NT. The dummy came down with a moth-eaten six-card spade suit and an assorted mess of 7 HCP. One suit in particular proved troublesome with only one stopper, and the missing spade honors were badly placed. I was down three (or four?). It was a lot. My partner asked if they shouldn’t have invited. I said the invite was a judgment call, and it was okay if they thought the hand was worth an invite … just they needed to tell me it was a six card spade suit by bidding 3♠ instead of 2NT. Whenever I’m playing with a regular partner and one of us opens 1NT (weak or strong) I feel safe and secure in the knowledge that we are very likely to get to the right contract, but I remember when I was first learning transfers and Stayman I used to dread 1NT openers.

I had a hand that I liked a lot, a gambling NT type hand with outside stuff but I was a little in love with my AKQTxxx of clubs. I opened 1♣. My partner bid 1♥. My RHO doubled. I jumped to 3♣. My partner bid 3♠. I shrugged and bid 3NT. Which got passed around to the RHO who doubled and everyone passed. I feel confident that I can make this as long as my partner’s spade stopper is sufficient. The dummy:

♠ QTxx
♥ T9xxx
♦ Qxx
♣ x

I feel the blood draining out of my head. My partner has bid not just once, but twice with four HCP. I’m still only down one as long as the clubs break. They do not. I’m down -1100. It’s IMPs. I need to excuse myself from the table. And then as I’m regaining my composure in the restroom the thought strikes me that this must be what TMS feels like playing with me. It’s all relative.

Like yesterday when I would have sworn I had counted 13 tricks and bid 7NT only to find that he had only one king not two and even if he had both kings it still only added up to 12 (I can’t count higher than ten with my shoes on), lucky for me it made seven anyway thanks to his holding the queen of diamonds but I hadn’t asked about that card.

TMS and I had a 72% game yesterday. I guess that’s what happens when you mistakenly bid 7NT only to find out that it makes anyway. When I got an e-mail after the game it was with a system correction only. My reply included a snarky remark about how I had played pretty well and “thank you so much for noticing”. His response was a recitation of mistakes that I’d made (including that queen of hearts play that marred our perfect defense). Oops.

May
26

Out of Order

I got off to a good start yesterday. On the second hand, I played a 3NT contract in a rather sneaky way so as to steal a twelfth trick. I discarded the queen of diamonds from my hand early on even though I had a small diamond left. I hoped this would convince the defenders to discard their diamond winners as I ran my long suits and it did, I scored the small diamond at the end. This play earned the coveted Mad Scientist Seal of Approval.

Unfortunately I undid all that good will with my lazy, sloppy defense later on and since the cards were definitely running in the other direction there was a lot of defense for me to mess up.

Before long the Mad Scientist was wondering aloud just where “that d_mned gerbil” had gotten off to.

“He’s a guinea pig,” I reminded him, “And last I saw him he was talking about learning Spanish and returning to the place of his ancestors.”

“Peru?”

“Well, that’s what I thought, but then he said something about not wanting to die without seeing Rio.”

“Rio? They don’t speak Spanish in Rio.”

“That’s what I told him, but he said when he wanted my opinion he’d give it to me. Anyway I drove him to the bus station and wished him a ‘¡Buen viaje!’.”

Guinea pigs suck at geography. I wonder how long it will take him to realize that New Mexico isn’t in South America. Speaking of people who have no idea what’s going on, there was a weird cluster of diamond sacrifices over spade contracts yesterday. I think we went to 5 diamonds three times over the opponents’ spades. Twice they went to five spades and made it. Once we got doubled, but I held it to down two for a good result: four spades was making, and the others playing in 5 diamonds were going down three (of course, one of them wasn’t doubled so they got the top).

The Troll was at the table next to us while I was playing that hand and the whole group was being exceptionally noisy, flat out ignoring our initial polite requests to quiet down. I’ve often been called out for talking or laughing too loudly, but my reaction is typically to apologize and then shut up, I don’t think I’ve ever just ignored the person making the request. Usually I feel genuinely bad for disturbing them. Finally, after their squawking had wrecked my concentration for what felt like the tenth time (it wasn’t the simplest of hands to unravel) I lost it and yelled at them to “Shut the h_ll up!” That got their attention, the Troll persisted for a sentence more but finally he too fell silent. He has no idea how close to death he came.

Earlier this week, I was playing against a pair when they had a new-minor forcing auction and failed to alert the “new minor”. I happened to be holding the KQxx of said minor and when the auction was over I asked if there had been a failure to alert. I was told there had been and that the club bid was artificial. I put the king of clubs face down on the table and asked my partner if he had any questions, he did not and I flipped over the king at which point my LHO noted that it was not my turn to lead.

I don’t often make leads out of turn, but she had me dead to rights. I wondered why she didn’t point this out before I flipped over the card. She insisted to the director that she should get to see her partner’s hand before she made a decision about what to do (which is a completely bizarre idea), but eventually she accepted the lead with a comment about how if I didn’t know whose lead it was, I probably didn’t know what to lead. I bit my tongue. I also bit my tongue when immediately after I left the table she matter of factly told her partner that my question about the club bid had been “leading” which might be a legit complaint except, obviously, I thought it was my lead because, well, I led. I really wanted to say something to that effect, but between her strange understanding of the laws of bridge and the fact that she was a 70-ish woman wearing a skimpy tennis dress to a bridge club I realized you just can’t reason with that kind of crazy.

May
13

” … I’d have no luck at all.”

The game of duplicate bridge may have relegated Lady Luck to a bit part, but she still manages to chew on her fair share of the scenery. And while bridge players are a superstitious, cowardly lot, they are unlikely to acknowledge her presence at all — unless, of course, they’re having a bad game.

It is true though that in a duplicate bridge club, Mme. Chance is not to be found in her usual place of residence, the cards themselves, and has instead been forced to seek shelter with the opponents.

Just who does she think she is?

And why am I ruminating on the influence of luck when it comes to this contest of skill? Well, I’m coming off of a couple of bad games. Mistakes were made, but the fact is we got fixed, repeatedly and in a variety of novel ways.

Sometimes the fix is systemic in nature. Playing a weak NT in a field where most people play a strong NT sometimes ends badly. The fact is one can open 1NT pretty often when it shows a flat hand with 12-14 HCP, and that can mean wrong-siding contracts among other things (the hope, of course, is that it proves more beneficial than harmful over time, but that doesn’t mean that for a particular session that might be the very difference between a good game and a bad one).

Sometimes the fix is in because the rest of the field fails you; your opponents have a perfectly reasonable, seemingly normal auction and reach a slam that for reasons unknown no one else is bidding or your opponents are the only ones who manage to double a sacrifice bid that everyone else is being allowed to play undoubled. And there are times when one of your opponents makes an insane, completely unreasonable bid, landing in a terrible contract that happens to make (I’m looking at you 3NT). And then there are the times when an insane auction reaches a reasonable contract that for reasons that are completely unfathomable no on else is reaching. The following hand is one of those.

For once, the Mad Scientist and I were silent through-out as our opponents had the following auction:

1N-2♣-
3♥-3♠-
4♥-4♠

After a long hesitation, the opening bidder passed. No one at the table has even the slightest idea what’s going on. TMS gazes into his Magic 8 ball and comes up with an opening lead. The 1NT bidder puts her hand down as dummy:

♠ AKx
♥ KQJ9x
♦ x
♣ Axxx

As you can see, she doesn’t have a 1NT bid. In fact, TMS notes that at our bridge club it is against the rules to open 1NT with a singleton. I’m a little concerned because she has a really good hand, it looks like they may have gotten to a good contract in a 4-3 fit that others may not find and looking at my doubleton queen of spades and my ace of hearts, I think they’re likely not to lose any major suit tricks except for the ace.

As the play progresses though it quickly becomes apparent that they are in fact in a nine card spade fit (good news, as far as I am concerned because now it appears that they have gotten to a normal contract by way of one of the least normal auctions ever). My ace of hearts turns out to be the only trick we will take on the defense. I’m thinking that maybe some aggressive East-West pair(s) may have even bid the slam. That is until TMS enters the score and the result is quite poor for us. It turns out that no one bid the slam which wasn’t surprising, but most people aren’t even bidding game and many of them are playing the hand in 3♥!

This is the declarer’s hand (the one on which she bid Stayman after her partner’s 1NT opening bid):

♠ JTxxxx
♥ xx
♦ AQx
♣ Qx

As it turns out the off-shape, too weak, 1NT opening bid would have made it very easy to get to the right game with a Texas transfer, but of course that didn’t happen. If, however, the hand is opened appropriately with 1♥ and the responder bids 1♠ the opener now finds herself with a rather troublesome rebid. If she bids 2♣, while praying that her partner won’t pass, and the responder then makes her normal bid of 2♠ I think a jump to 4♠ would be easy to find, but apparently not.

Apr
20

The Hard Way

During the second round I looked into the dregs of the coffee in my styrofoam cup and spotted a gnat doing the backstroke. I immediately reached in and grabbed the little thief by his wings, shaking him, “Spit it out! SPIT IT OUT!!!” When I realized the other people at the table were staring, I let him go and, having brought play to a halt already, dashed off to get a fresh cup.

Okay, so the truth is when I spotted the gnat he was already drowned and I didn’t interrupt the play of the hand to perform CPR or to get a new cup of coffee, but I did resent the fact that I couldn’t finish the cup. No comment on whether or not I contemplated doing so despite the insect’s presence.

Probably the dead bug should have been my cue to go home, but I stayed anyway.

At favorable vulnerability, I opened in first seat with both majors:

♠ Axxxx
♥ AKxx
♦ Kxx
♣ x

Yin raised me to 2♠. The opponents remained silent. I was feeling a little feisty (What else is new?) and made a help-suit game try in diamonds, my thinking was that if I could avoid losing two diamond tricks I might just be making something thanks to my terrific shape. He waved me off with a 3♠ bid and that’s where I played it. My LHO led the queen of hearts and the dummy hit with:

♠ K98
♥ Txxx
♦ xx
♣ Axxx

It isn’t thrilling, but with two eight card major suit fits I’m thinking I may have missed game after-all. Then my RHO showed out in hearts. It should be noted here that my RHO was a novice and when he did not ruff the opening lead I wasn’t sure if he had failed to trump or if he had no trump or if he had lots of trump and didn’t want to give up natural trump tricks. Anyway I won the trick in my hand and led a small trump to the king, my LHO followed low and my RHO dropped the queen. Good news, he failed to trump. Bad news he had an awful lot of cards in the minors which means my LHO has an awful lot of cards in the majors. I scraped up nine tricks, but it wasn’t easy or pretty. And to top it off +140 was a crappy score because elsewhere my RHO was finding a bid holding:

♠ Q
♥ (void)
♦ AQJTxx
♣ KQJTxx

… and 5♦ is down two.

A couple of rounds later, our opponents were a pair of little old ladies and they were the only ones in the room to get to a slam on a hand that makes six of either minor. It is true they only had a combined 31 HCP with 17 cards in the minors, so it may have been tricky to bid though certainly they had no problem doing so.

The Rule of 160: If the combined age of your opponents is ≥ 160, do not underestimate them.

The hits kept on coming. In first seat, at favorable vulnerability, Yin opened a pre-emptive 2♦. My RHO bid 2♥. I jumped to 5♦ with:

♠ Qxx
♥ Kx
♦ KTxxx
♣ xxx

My LHO paused for a moment before passing. Yin passed. Now my RHO bid 5♥, vulnerable, on:

♠ Kxxx
♥ QT9xxx
♦ x
♣ AK

I don’t know if it was the moment’s hesitation before his partner passed or if he had overheard something about the hand, but whatever it was there is no way in h_ll he has that bid and I told him so. I don’t think the partner’s hesitation was long enough to warrant a director call, but clearly he was drawing an inference from something other than his hand.

Surprisingly (or maybe not) the low point of the game was yet to come. I actually feel a bit sick just thinking about this one. Yin opened 1NT at favorable vulnerability. I made a garbage Stayman bid holding:

♠ Jxxx
♥ QJxxx
♦ Jxxx
♣ (void)

My LHO doubled my 2♣ bid. Yin bid 2♦ which I passed and now my LHO bid 3♣ which got passed back around to me. I just knew that letting them play 3♣ was going to be a bad result for us. I wanted to somehow tell my partner that I was at the “top” of my very limited hand so I doubled.

I don’t honestly know what the bid means besides that I have something so if he has good clubs I’m willing to defend and if he takes another bid, I’m happy too. In retrospect, I should have had a defensive trick (like a king) to make that double because after Yin left it in, we let it make even though it should be down one (still not a great result). Clearly, at that point, 3♦ would have been a better choice than double. Better yet, I probably should have just shown my heart suit and given up on the garbage Stayman altogether. Strangely the difference between -110 and -670 was exactly and only one matchpoint (matchpoints are so weird), but it cost a lot more than that in less tangible ways.

Feb
28

A Comedy of Errors

My partner was having a bad night and not just because he was playing with me. Early on there was an ugly revoke, leaving us down one instead of making. A bid out of turn didn’t end up costing us anything because I was the only one at the table who noticed. I was the dealer and was trying to figure out just what to open when partner passed and then my RHO opened the bidding. In fact a take-out double described my hand better than I might have otherwise been able to so it may have even helped us a bit.

But those were trivial compared to the bizarre errors that took place on one hand in the fourth round. I am quite happy to say that for once I was not at fault. Vulnerable against not, my partner opened the bidding 2♠ and as is typically the case I was void in spades, what was not typical was that otherwise I had a nice hand:

♠ (void)
♥ AT9xx
♦ QTxx
♣ AQJx

But nothing gives me the jitters quite like a vulnerable misfit when the HCP are fairly evenly distributed so after my RHO passed I did as well and my LHO told his partner to lead. The opening lead was a small heart. When I put my hand down, my LHO joked that I should always put the trump down first, I replied that I had. Then he asked if I figured bidding 2NT would only get me a 3♠ response and I replied that I am “an eternal pessimist”. If memory serves partner won the ace of hearts and led a small diamond toward his hand (I think he had the king, in any event the diamonds set up). The important piece of information here is that the opponents got in and made him ruff a heart. Then he led the king of spades from his hand which lost to LHO’s ace. When partner got back in he led the queen of spades and my RHO showed out, my LHO gave my partner a little wave. Partner continued with the jack of spades followed by the ten on which my LHO played a club! My RHO said “No trump?!” sounding quite surprised. My LHO didn’t respond to his partner and I wasn’t going to say anything because while I was pretty damn sure my partner would not open 2♠ with nine of them to the KQJT, I was not at all sure this hand could be made so a revoke might come in handy. What I didn’t expect was my partner’s next move, he claimed the rest of the tricks!

My LHO was sputtering, “What do you mean the diamonds are good?” Partner looked confused, “Did I miss a diamond?” Since a director call was imminent I decided I ought to wait to mention the revoke. “You’re clueless!” LHO said in the same breath that he called for the director. For reasons that are clear to no one else, LHO wanted to speak to the director away from the table, once the director ascertained it was a faulty claim they returned and the director asked to see my LHO’s hand. (My partner’s hand was already face up on the table.) When the LHO showed his hand it was nothing but black cards including the 98x of trump. It seemed like as good a time as any to point out that my LHO had revoked on the last trick — news which caught him completely by surprise. When the revoke was proved to his satisfaction(?), LHO started demanding, “Partner, why didn’t you ask me, ‘No spades?’?” “I did!” “He did,” I added helpfully. The director finally made sense of the ridiculous circumstances (no easy task), and he granted us an over-trick. LHO was apoplectic.

I wish I could say that we went on to great things, but we gave all the matchpoints right back to them on the next hand when they got to an ice cold 7♠ with a combined 33 HCP.