Day Care

Have you noticed the similarities between your bridge club and a day care center?  Let me name a few:




1.  Snacks must be provided.  No one can get through a whole round of bridge without chips, dip, donuts,  popcorn, leftover Halloween candy, leftover birthday cake and whatever other leftovers have been lying around the house which people say, "Oh, I'll just bring it to the bridge club and it will get eaten".  True statement that.


2.  As director, part of the job is calling for quiet between rounds.  "Use your indoor voices" or "shhh"  or "Quiet down people".    With a large number of players with hearing aides which barely function, it isn't easy to keep scores or the play of the hand from being overheard by the next table.


3.  Some players decide it's nap time.  Directors find themselves using cattle prods to wake people up to bid, complete the round,  or to move to the next table. 


4.  Everyone is supposed to play nice with everyone else.


5.  Bridge has the equivalent of time outs for zero tolerance violations.  Violators are fined match points or sent home without snacks.


6.  Players must be reminded to clean up after themselves.  Apparently, some of them never learned this in kindergarten.


7.  Entertainment is a must.  Hula hoop contests at the Luau, lottery wins, free games WITH FOOD, put on by the unit.   To a bridge player, a free game with food provided is the best of all possible worlds.


8.  Like holding hands in line, you must have a partner.




Maybe it is true that as we age, we regress.  Playing bridge, for me, brings back memories of elementary school.

Pro or Schmo?

Here  a guide for newbies who find themselves at a regional or national somewhere and want to know if the opponent is a pro bridge player with a client.


1.  The pair play no known system but one usually devised by the pro so that he can play every hand.  (I am using a generic "he" here since I have never come across a female bridge pro.  I am sure there are some; I just haven't met any yet.)


2.  The pro has a jacket over jeans or polyester slacks (depends on age).


3.  If his partner does something wrong, the pro explains patiently what partner should have done instead.  This is usually incomprehensible to the opponents.


4.  The tricks the pro takes, instead of being lined up neatly in front of him, are carelessly tossed into an untidy pile as if to give you a message that there will be no question about the outcome since he can tell you every trick played from his infallible memory. 


5.  The other message the untidy trick pile sends is that he is absolutely unconcerned about the outcome of the hand.


6.  If you watch the pro's forehead carefully, you can almost see the series of numbers running through his brain like the moving neon lights on a Times Square sign.


7. Unlike your neatly printed convention card in its holder, decorated with regional stickers, pros keep a written score on the back of a hastily scribbled card which was filled out 2 minutes before game time.  They always use a golf pencil (if you are a pro, there is no need for an eraser since the outcome is foreordained) and said convention card is a crumpled up mess never to be used again.  (Thanks to friend/partner, Rebecca, for noticing this one.)


8.  Pro and partner come to the table discussing the last hands in no known earthly language and leave your table discussing in the same argot, no doubt communicating about how they could have sliced and diced you into yet smaller pieces.


Perhaps, some day, I'll go to a national disguised as a pro, doing all of the above.  The problem is, after my first three no trump declarer play, I would be degradingly unmasked.

Tricky Business

Husband/partner and I played in a bracketed Swiss with pickup partners at the July Regional here in San Antonio.  One nice lady with over 800 points was trying to help her friend get some gold toward her life master status.  We did quite well in two events and met them again at the Richardson Regional later on in the summer.  As we got to know each other better, the 800 pointer told the following story:

 

When she was just starting out, she had a male partner and was playing against two other males for three boards in a pairs game.  The opposing gentlemen and her partner gently reminded her when she turned her cards the wrong way after taking or losing a trick.  After the third or fourth time this happened, she said, "I guess I'm just not very good at turning tricks".  She turned red while telling me this story.  I can't imagine how red she was when the gentlemen at the table broke up laughing.

Bridge Director

Amazingly, I passed the exam to become a certified bridge director.  Very much like becoming a life master, becoming a bridge director is more than a piece of paper saying I are one.  Now I have to learn how to direct.  I think it will be a work in progress for a while.

Lady in Waiting

Nope; the title doesn't refer to the infamous two diamonds waiting bid over two clubs.  I'm talking about waiting to hear about the results of a test.  After studying for about two months and sleeping with four books about directing bridge games, with husband/partner banished to the guest room (joking), I took the test to become a director last Saturday.  The ancient game of bridge uses the ancient technique of paper and pencil, mail in the test, and get the results by mail in several weeks.  Sigh.  I'm more of an instant gratification girl; take it online and get an immediate score but, sadly, ACBL is not that advanced.

Studying for the exam was an experience.  I thought learning the ins and outs of the Jacoby 2NT convention was difficult.  Piece of cake compared with memorizing the five things that happen with an initial lead out of turn.  Being somewhat dyslexic (as in I can't tell left from right or east from west), learning what the penalty is for bids out of turn,  depending on where the designated bidder sits, was an almost insurmountable challenge.  I'm still not sure I have it correctly programmed in my head even after several director/friends have patiently explained the differences to me. 

I was going to take the test secretly in case I failed; then no one would know.  There are no secrets in the bridge community.  Everyone knows and everyone says, "It's open book - how hard can it be?" Well, the problem is, one must understand the book, apply principles and figure stuff out.  The law book itself is a master work of legalese.  Among the committee members of whiz bang bridge players who codified the laws, sat one of the smartest, if not the smartest, kid in my small high school class of 100 people.  What are the odds?  The kid who immediately understood the concept of n space in physics ends up writing bridge laws.  I should have known it wouldn't be easy.

I took the test so that I could back up our regular director in our small neighborhood sanctioned games which happen a few times a month.  I didn't plan to direct in the big club games but who knows?  Maybe I'll get brave enough to do one or two if, by some miracle, I actually passed the thing.

Still waiting.

Camping Out

My favorite sectional is in Rockport, Texas on the gulf coast.  It has lovely scenery, art galleries, great restaurants and we play bridge in a beach pavilion with big windows which are great for bird and dolphin watching while I am going down in yet another makeable no trump contract.  I feel just as stupid but in better surroundings than usual.

 

However, while there, another bridgely pet peeve reared its clubbed head.  While Rockport is full of RVs and is a great place for camping, some players seem to think that great camping places extend to their seat.  The Swiss round had been called.  While everyone else was finding assigned seats and shuffling boards, I was standing behind my assigned seat while the camper in it prepared to move (pick six or more of the following) drinks, scorecard, bridgemate, a huge purse, cell phone, backpack, tote bag,  card holder, sweater, seat cushion, scarf, medications, jacket, blanket or sleeping bag.  Okay, maybe a sleeping bag exaggerates the problem but not by much.

 

Swiss are the worst bridge camp out sites since pairs settle in for 12 boards a round.  I get it that people like to be comfortable but really; enough already!  I followed a woman in a pairs' game the other day and, each time she left the table, I had to hand her a sweater, drink or score card.  EVERY ROUND!  Practicing zero tolerance and restraint, I just continued to smile and hand her stuff.  She must be one of the few people outside of Downton Abbey who still retain servants.

 

The worst, for me, is following messy campers who leave Kleenex strewn about and food particles all over the table and chair.  This is good for Purell stock since, after picking up Kleenex and napkins, I immediately head for the antiseptic gel. The most sickening (literally) ick factor is the guy who licks his finger before picking up each card or taking one out of the bidding box.  I try to sit in his opposite direction for health reasons. 

 

Let's clean it up out there, folks.  In return, I promise not to whine about bad cards and wretched games.

 

 

IN A FIX

From tonight's fortune cookies at the local Chinese place:

mine:                         Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.
husband/partner's:                           It's kind of fun to do the impossible.

Put those two together and whadya get?  All together now:  BRIDGE!!!  The game where it seems to be fun to do the impossible and play your cards well; at least with any consistency.

I played those I held fairly well today and so did my partner (he played his expertly being the expert that he is - no it wasn't husband/partner).  We had an okay game and had fun but didn't do the impossible which was overcome the fixes we received on six or so boards.

I think all of us have been in many fixes while playing bridge, in my case, mostly of my own making. Locking myself off the board away from three good notrump tricks and going down is my most frequent self made fix.  It gives a top board to the opposition who happen to be at my table when everyone else in the room makes the no trump contract while my partner and I get a nice bottom.

However, sitting down against an A pair who bid and make 6NT while no one else in the room even thinks about it, makes me whine about fixes. Everyone's favorite fix is playing against a novice pair who unknowingly stumble into a game which no one using standard bidding methods finds.

A few definitions of the word fix:

1.     To spay or castrate.
        (More painful than bridge fixes, I imagine.)

2.     To get even with . 
        ( I am tempted but try to adhere to zero tolerance.)
 

3.     To influence the outcome or actions of by improper or unlawful means.
         (Improper; usually - Unlawful...usually not).

Fixes are what in any other sport would be called bad luck, I suppose.  I really shouldn't complain too much about getting fixed.  Husband/partner and I were playing in a rather uneven field one day when we sat down with teacher Wayne and his wife, both  excellent bridge players.  Wayne bid and made a cold 6 NT and I was complaining that we were sitting with the only pair in the room that would get near the bid.  On the next board, husband/partner and I got to a cold 6 clubs. All of us knew no one else would bid it.  Payback is hell.  They should both have been average boards but were not.  Fix one and Fix two.  All of us give as well as receive.

Observing the wisdom of the fortune cookie writers, I will continue to try to have fun doing the impossible overcoming fixes at the table by playing  well the cards I have been dealt.  I wonder if there is any wisdom in fortune cookies about how to deal with futility?

 

Perfectly Perfect

At the Rockport sectional last weekend, held in Port Aransas instead of Rockport, a very nice lady told me this story.

Her partner was in the balancing seat and paused for a while before passing.  The opponent started in; "Do you agree that was a prolonged pause? Do you?  She took a longer than usual time to pass."  The lady agreed that was so but it made no difference since no one else could bid anyway after her pass.

On the next hand, her partner who has limited club playing experience, forgot to alert new minor forcing.  After the bidding was over, the same person asked "Was that new minor forcing? Was it? Do you admit your partner failed to alert it? Do you?"  Again, the lady politely agreed.

The third hand, partner failed to announce transfer.  To no one's surprise, the same player said, "Was that a transfer?  Was it?  Do you admit that your partner failed to announce it? Do you?"

The nice lady then responded, "Yes, I will admit to everything you have said if you will admit there is a perfect asshole at this table."

As the story made its way around the room, the nice lady was high fived and called "my hero" by many, including me since I had played against the same obnoxious person for three straight days.

It may violate zero tolerance, but I cheered her response.

How to Fire a Partner

Husband/partner and I, along with friend/partners Jay and Paula, took a road trip to the Rockport Sectional last weekend.  It was held in Port Aransas due to the fact that the genius's in Rockport had double booked the facility used regularly, twice a year, for the sectional.  Husband/partner programmed the GPS and named the new destination Port A bridge.  As we arrived at the site, the GPS announced "Arriving at porta bridge on right".  We played somewhat better than porta potty bridge which immediately became our name for the tournament.

One of the opponents was discussing how many partnership problems seemed to be occuring in the room.  She was thinking about writing a book on how to fire one's partner.  Here are some hints.

10.     Change your phone number and email address and don't tell anyone.

9.      Tell partner that he/she is so much better than you are that they should find a better partner who is more at their level.

8.      Say that you are quitting bridge.  When you show up again, say that you changed your mind.

7.       Use the difference in your "styles" to discuss incompatibility.  The fact that you can't stand their personal habits at the table or other personal idiosyncracies need not be brought up since these are covered under "style" differences.

6.       Totally book yourself with other partners.

5.       Take on a mentee or three who will take up all of your available time.

4.        Say that you are "cutting back" on bridge time and, sadly, games with you are the ones to go.

3.        Tell partner that you have decided to play only with A players to improve your game.  Then beg any and every A player for a play date.  Good luck with that one.

2.         There is always the truth - be up front with partner and have the guts to be honest.   This is almost a last resort.

1.          Move.  This is last resort.

Between Times

Top Ten things bridge players do between rounds (with apologies to Letterman).


10.  Disappear into the bathroom for ten minutes (this occurs only if the player is late finishing last board and is dealer on the first board of his next table).

9.  Part A:  Castigate partner for not remembering that the 2 and 3 of clubs in dummy were good or otherwise discuss the previous boards but only if the round has been called for over five minutes and the next east west player is looming over the chair unnoticed by the oblivious occupant .
     Part B:  Go over the hand just played, complete with spreading the cards on the table. This is only done by chronically late pairs who are chronically late because they do this after every hand.

8.  Part A: Congratulate partner for playing a hand well when the contract was made on a mistake by the opposition.  
      Part B:  Tell the opposing player that if had only played his Ace, the singleton king of trump would have dropped or deliver any other newsflashes designed to make another player feel like an idiot.

7.   Check cell phone for messages, texts,  a new game in Words with Friends, or knock off some nasty pigs with angry birds.

6.   Catch up on family members, travels, pets and other life events which make us a community.  It's amazing how much one learns about other players in the minutes between rounds. 

5.  Discuss newest health issues and medications or ask the doctor or nurse at the table for an opinion.  Husband/partner and I are happy to oblige but only if we finish the round early. 

4.  Set up future  bridge dates.  Phone vs. paper calendars; the jury is still out.

3.   Discuss Politics. When I am north, I ban political discussions at my table. Should a player persist, I leave the table and ask them to call me when they are finished with the discussion/opinionating which, usually, is opposite my leanings.

2.  Whine about what a bad game you are having (my personal fave).

and always Number One:

Graze the food table.

Biig Al, In Remembrance

Biig Al passed away today.  He died as he lived which was mostly by himself.  I like to think that he considered me a friend, but, I really don't know.  I do know that, as a new player, he was very protective of me and did not allow intimidation tactics by my much more skilled and knowledgeable opponents.  I know that, in this age of zero tolerance, we can't even imagine older players being horrible to newbies but, I can assure you, five years ago, it was still happening.  My partner today had never played in the "big" club game and everyone in the room was kind and patient.  That was really nice.  Biig Al would not have allowed anything else were he directing.

 

That isn't to say that he didn't give me a truckload of grief when I bid a four card suit for the second time or on the two level.  He was my unofficial mentor those first two years.  Officially, his partner, Robert was my real mentor but Al played as my partner often.  I once asked him how it was for him, a major league bridge dude, to play with someone as low level as I was at the time. He answered, "Well, if you really want to know, it's boring".  That's probably because I didn't play Al and Robert's esoteric Italian Blue Club System.  The joke around the club was that no one ever knew what their bids meant and neither did they.  Not true, of course, since they often won.

 

He used to come over for dinner once in a while and critique whatever I had cooked.  He knew his way around a stove and, whatever I cooked got better if he helped - at least the critique improved.  Gradually, a couple of years ago, he stopped playing as much bridge and he didn't return my requests to set up games.  He said that he just couldn't think as well as he used to and, I think, was embarrassed when he made mistakes in our game.  He had volatile, unstable diabetes and, recently, kidney failure.  One of those things would mess up my thinking.  I can't even imagine what both would do.

 

Recently, he had come back to the club a few times to play and, just last week, had donated a bookcase and his bridge books to the club.  I asked him why and he said he was moving when his lease was up in November.  I assume that he wanted a ground floor apartment.  Those stairs he had to climb could not have been easy for him.

 

I am glad that he didn't end up on machines in a critical care unit somewhere.  He would have been pulling his lines out and hollering at everyone to get him out of there.  I have spent many years in those places and wouldn't want anyone I care about to end their days there.  He died in his apartment, probably with the two stray cats he adopted, hopefully, in peace.  I shall miss him and always think of him when I misplay yet another no trump hand.  That should be often.

 

How is Moving Like Bridge?

We have "moved house" as they say in England. I not only moved "house", I moved husband/partner and two cats. Surprisingly, the cats adapted better than husband/partner. This should not have been such a shock. After all, when I suggest that we look at Lebensol, his usual response is, "What's wrong stolen bid doubles? Everybody that plays Lebensol gets into bidding misunderstandings." You can imagine the response to "Let's sell the house and move." Are you kidding? However, like our wonderful partnership, he compromised and we moved. Actually, our old house sold overnight, and we bought our new downsized garden home the next day. For a guy who likes a nice, well planned 3 NT hand which rolls in an orderly, well thought out fashion, this was chaos. At warp speed, like my usual play of the hand, I was on the phone to vendors of all sorts organizing the moving out and in process. I like to think I play my hand in a similar organized manner but, my better opponents and partners point out that the warp speed factor often results in disorganization instead. Begrudgingly, I have to admit they are correct. The problem is, if I go slower, I lose count of something. I'm not going into what I misplaced in the move and still haven't found. I'm not sure speed was the total problem though. So, I haven't played much bridge for about 7 weeks. However, we did go to the Austin Fourth of July Regional for a few games. My favorite line of the week was in a Swiss game. After the first round, I went to our next assigned table where the previous occupants continued to reside. I politely pointed out that the assignments for the next round were on the machines. The guy looked at me and said, "You mean we have to MOVE??" He wasn't kidding.   I guess it was his first Swiss.

Obsession

People often ask me how often I play and, when this question comes up, I am a little embarrassed to admit that I have a game four or five times a week. I don't tell them that, when a day comes up with no partner scheduled, I feel a mild sort of anxiety. One of my friend/partners admitted that she is thinking about cutting back on her playing a bit. The conversation went something like this:

"I'm thinking of cutting back on bridge."

I answered, "I've been giving that some thought myself."

She said, "Maybe three times a week. No wait, maybe four. Except for tournaments of course. I want you and I to get to a twice monthly game. Then I have games set up for....."

Addiction? Obsession? It's hard to say. Certainly, the lure of bridge with its intermittent reward system works the same way that gambling does. We keep returning to the game thinking that next time we will do really well. Luckily, with bridge, I don't lose money like I do in the penny slots or the blackjack machines. If that were the case, I'd be totally broke after four years of mostly losing. However, I keep going back. So does my friend and so does husband/partner who is in a persistent slump. I think it is interesting that all three of us are thinking about spending less time at the bridge club at roughly the same point in our bridge careers, although my friend has been at it longer than I.

We talked about all the projects around the house we never seem to get to. We called each other yesterday when neither of us played and found that we had the same sort of day; cleaned out closets, puttered about in the yard; and thoroughly enjoyed the nice almost spring like day. We agreed that we should allow ourselves those kind of days more often than we seem to. Cut back on bridge time to do that? Yet to be determined.

Crabbiness

Here is the question of the day - does crabbiness violate zero tolerance?  The queen of crabbiness, Lucy, in the Charlie Brown comic strip, makes people smile.  So, when an opponent gives me an unasked for lesson as in, "You should have thought about cross roughing that hand" when I was down one, do you think it would make him smile if I replied, "When I decide to take lessons, I'll be sure not to call you"? 

When the opponent gets up to move to the next table and says, "We couldn't have made our five hearts.  Their six clubs was a bad sacrifice" wouldn't you think it might make them happier when I say, "If you could count your tricks, you would know you just got a bottom board"?  No smiles in either case but I felt better.

One of my opponents yesterday came to our table toward the end of the match, whining about the scarcity of good hands east/west.  She was right.  There were three slams north/south yesterday and only partial games east/west.  She admitted to being crabby.  In her case, even crabby, she is nice.  In my case, I turn into a sarcastic snarl machine.

It has always been a bridge mystery to me why opponents feel free to make comments about my game or give me lessons about what I should or should not have done.  In what other venue does that happen?  Do you think Tim Duncan, during a time out, goes to the opponents' bench to give them advice about their defense? 

 I imagine that bridge players think they are "helping".  I love the great players who say, "Would you like to know what you did wrong on that hand?"  I gratefully accept their mini lesson.  It is never the great players who, unasked, start to expound on what you should or should not have done.  It is always mediocre or poor players who do this and they are often wrong. 

Worse yet are those who say, "If she had led a heart we would have been down two" or "They could have made 5 on that."    Do I want to hear that?  No.  Do I know it already? Yes.  Does it sound like gloating which I hate?  Yes.  I often say, "There is a no gloating zone around this table."  The answer is usually, "I wasn't gloating, just stating a fact".  My answer is, "Go state it somewhere else because, if I can hear it, it qualifies as gloating". 

Have I violated zero tolerance?  Have they?  Maybe Lucy can tell me when the psychiatrist is in; five cents please.

The Bridge Clinic

Husband/partner and I have discussed hanging out a shingle in the corner of one of the clubs.  The men ask to see partner/husband after the game to talk about a variety of male related problems (think prostate) and the women often ask to speak to me to explain, in everyday terms, what the doctor has told them which they didn't understand.

One day, an elderly woman stopped play in the middle of the hand complaining of chest pressure.  Partner/husband attended to her and recommended that we call EMS.   She said, "It feels just like my last heart attack" and continued to finish the game, refusing any thought of EMS.  He recommended that she go to the nearest emergency room after the game.  She said, "I'm going home."  He said, "You may die on the way home."  Her answer?  "So what?"  She finally did go to an E.R. near her home where they plopped another stent into her chest and she is back playing, of course.

Another player asked me to explain why her doctor said that a cardiac ablation is more dangerous than severing the electrical connections in the heart and inserting a pacemaker.  That was an easy one, since I had that choice myself last year.

My former teacher,  Wayne, had serious heart problems and a very long recovery.  He is now back playing and winning, of course. 

Here is my point; sadly,  the bridge population is aging and with that, there seem to be more and more age related illnesses among us.  My Tuesday partner is in rehab for the foreseeable future and I miss her greatly.  I'm leaving my Tuesday's open pending her return.  I told her that everyone at the club misses her and wishes her well.  Her last words to me, as I left her hospital room, were, "Tell them I'll be back!"

I really admire the men and women who, through unbelievable adversity, come back to the game. If that is what keeps them going, then bridge is more valuable than I imagined.  I know that bridge is supposed to be good for the aging process; keeping the brain active and all of that hoo ha.  However, most of my exercise these days is playing east/west and walking table to table.   I really need to get back to working out to keep the bad stuff away as long as possible.  Oh well.  Off to Houston for the regional later today.  I hear they have a workout room at the hotel.  I wonder if I will use it?

Happy New Year 2012

Several readers have been asking if I have given up the blog.  Nope.  I just haven't written anything in about a month.  Blog resolution for this year:  one blog a month at least; more if anything funny happens.  Friends/partners Jay and Paula went to Reno again with us over Christmas week.  Club manager Laurie and her husband joined us.  The six of us met early at the airport and chatted before boarding the Southwest Greyhound bus in the sky.... I mean airplane.  We deplaned in Denver for a 2 hour or so layover and Laurie called to ask where we were.  Paula told her to come meet us in concourse B in an eatery for lunch.  Laurie said, "How do you have time for lunch?  Our plane boards in 20 minutes?"  It was then that we began to wonder why we hadn't seen Laurie and her husband on board or deplaning.  They were in Las Vegas.  Who says bridge players are brilliant?

I am about 20 points away from 500 and the dreaded B designation.  Along those lines, one of my fave opponents, Barbara, asked why I was still writing a newbie blog.  I gave her the Biig Al answer that I don't know much of anything about bridge so the title should stay the same.  Speaking of Biig Al, I was sitting in the club prior to the game today getting agreement on a card with a new partner, Terry.  Al wandered over and wanted to know where we were sitting.  I said, "I don't know Al.  When we get done talking we will take whatever spot is open."  Al wandered off.  Five minutes later he was back stating that he had saved us 8 North/South.  Of course, he and his partner were at 8 East/West and I am absolutely sure that he figured he would start against us with three good boards.  The first one probably was when I didn't bid a slam I should have known was there.  However, they went down one on the second board and my partner bid a 6 club slam on the third board and made it.  We aren't sure he should have but it made me happy and Biig Al not so happy.  He growled as he left, "You two should have a great game today since we started you off with three good boards".  We did.  Thanks Al.

Jeri, the mentor/mentee program maven, guilted me into taking a mentee.  I still don't think I am a very good teacher and don't really  know enough about bridge to help myself much less anyone else but she was in desperate need and I am delighted that there are enough new players coming into the game that she needs so many mentors.  I felt obligated to help out.  My mentee and I had our first game at a pro/am game last night.  We managed to get .22 part of a masterpoint so, that bodes well for the partnership.  I like mentee Mary Lou and I'm hoping that we both will have fun together this year and help each other out;  she getting table time and me learning to teach someone something (not one of my strengths).  So, today Mary Lou played with her regular partner, Laura, and came in first North South.  I told her she didn't need me as a mentor - she beat me.  She said, "If we tell people I came in first after one game with you, you will have newbies lined up down the street to play with you".  Uh oh.  Maybe no one will read this far.

It's the little joys like that which keep me coming back plus the absolute love of the game.  I wish all of my readers many masterpoints in 2012 before the Mayans do us in next December.  Most point getter by the end of the world wins.

Tom Sez

After pestering Director Tom for some time, he finally asked husband/partner and I to attend one of his series of classes.  People from his former classes drop "Tom says" at the table regularly and I wanted to hear what it is that Tom actually says.  I find, so far, that he is often misquoted. 

The thought that any bridge player can figure out where all the high cards are after the bidding and first lead comes down is mind boggling.  He has proven in class that it is possible.  Possible for him, anyway.  I can see it all so clearly in class.  I could get the same exact hand at the table though, and not figure out where the queen of clubs is.  You may remember that it is almost always the queen of clubs that is the problem card.  Okay, sometimes it's the king or queen of trump but, in my experience, I'd like to club the club queen for hiding out so often.

It's a work in progress but Tom is a great motivator for improving one's game.  I'm waiting for the results of his deductive reasoning system to show improvements in my game.  I wish I were a more patient person.

Bridge Kids

Zach is a bridge whiz at eight years of age.  I call him the Mozart of bridge. He and 92 year old Bill Scarpero, (bridge harem Bill), played knockouts together at the last sectional.  As Bill wandered by me later in the day, he mumbled, "that kid is the strongest player in the room".  Having played against Zach and his Mom, Christy, several times, I agreed with him. 

Zach has a seven year old sister.  She is a slip of a girl who can easily "slip" behind players packed back to back in chairs.  Therefore, she is the perfect caddy.  When Director Tom asked her to pick up the entry slips one day when caddies weren't really needed she said, "Do I get paid?"  Tom laughed admiringly and paid her.  During a Swiss team event, my Tuesday partner Carol asked her if she were getting paid to caddy.  She answered, "Do you think I would do this if I weren't?"  She may not have her brother's bridge skills but she has a great future on Wall Street.

I mentioned to Zach that, should he continue to become a bridge master,  people would pay him to partner with them.  He said, "Do you think Eddie Wold would pay me?"  "Well", I replied, "maybe not Eddie but someone like me would."  He looked disappointed.  If I had his skills, I'd look disappointed with that news too.

They are a lovely family with great kids.  If you haven't played against him yet, you are in for a treat.  Watch Zach fly.

Bridge Lessons Cont.

Seven year old, grandson, Noah, has had about 3 bridge lessons and downloaded a bridge training program on to his ipad.  Grandpa showed him how to take a finesse this morning.  However,  we heard when passing by an in progress ipad game, "I HATE no trump".  ahh - the kid has a great future.  He is a chip off the old grandmother block.

Recruits

The two youngest grandsons are visiting for a week.  The seven year old announced upon arrival that he wanted to learn to play bridge.  I laid out an easy 4 spade hand for him; explained that he had to "bid" to play the hand.  He grasped the concept of which card takes a trick fairly quickly but, when the lesson was over, he said, "That was really fun but I don't get the bidding part".  Yep - smart guy  - zeroed in on the problem immediately.  I'm hoping some day to "get" the bidding part too.  Five more grandchildren still to hook.  Maybe, when I'm in the home, 3 of them will show up and play a few hands with me. More likely not but what is life without hope?

Popularity Contest

Husband/partner and I become very popular when the Eight is Enough games are scheduled.  In these games, each player has a number, depending on the number of points which have been accumulated by said player.  The total number of points of all team members can't exceed eight.  This means that the killer teams of superA players don't exist.  It also means that players at our level, for once, become in high demand.  We are number ones (lowest of the low) and the number threes try to find good number ones to fill out the team. 

This is about the only time, at the bridge club, where we are actually sought after and have to turn down multiple offers from very good teammates.  I feel like the pretty, popular cheerleader in high school who turns down multiple cute guys who ask her out.  Since this never happened in real life, it's another new sixth decade experience.  I like it.

I Can't Get No..... Satisfaction

I have decided that I want to be the kind of bridge player who scores above 50 percent in every game.  I think, if I ever get to that point, that I will then find even that unsatisfactory and want more than 60 percent in every game.  I have to look back to the beginning to see that I have made any progress at all.  Unread bridge books are still stacked next to my reading chair.  I have sampled some of Mike Lawrence's book on doubles, finished Watson once, and, currently, I am making my way through Kantar's two books on defense but that is slow going.  One of my favorites, at the moment, is 25 Bridge Myths.  I like that one.  I have always loved mythology but, sadly, this one is trying to teach me when to blow off rules and what the bridge teachers have tried to drum into my head and when not to.  That is definitely a work in progress.

Husband/partner and I have decided that we get more bad scores defensively than offensively.  Maybe that is because we are such offensive people.  He is making his way through the first Kantar book while I am sampling the advanced one.  He communicated something arcane to me about leading a 10 to show a higher honor.  I, of course, immediately forgot it and heard about it from him when I didn't lead the suit, in which he had led the ten,  back through declarer's hand.  I thought the 10 showed attitude - i.e. he didn't like the suit.  Back to the books.

So, if I read everything we have on bridge which would mean doing nothing else for about five years, and actually managed to retain the knowledge and THEN actually remember to use it during a game, maybe I can make my 50 percent per game goal.  Probably not.

Pet Peeves

I have been playing long enough now to have developed some decided likes and dislikes; most of them petty.  I have been asking fellow players about their pet peeves but most of the answers I received are unprintable.

A list of mine and a few others follows:

1.     Following someone who leaves the bidding box a total mess.  These people hide the 4 heart card between the 1 club and 1 diamond card, bury the alert cards, leave the pass cards upside down and backwards and otherwise make bridge life miserable for the person behind them.  Okay, maybe I'm a little obsessive compulsive.  Okay, maybe a lot, but really, isn't bridge stressful enough without having to spend the whole round searching for the proper card?  Really? How hard is it to put things back where they belong? 

2.     Then there are the guys who throw their bids, the dummy, and their cards as they play them on to the table.  I don't mean just sort of toss them out there.  I mean they throw their stuff around with great forcefulness.  I was playing against a guy doing just that the other day so, I started pounding my cards down too.  He didn't notice.  Sigh.

3.     There are people of both sexes (just so you don't think I'm just picking on guys) who, when they are about to take a trick, arc out the Ace or whatever card is a winner as if they were opening the envelope and taking out the name to present an academy award.  Please; get over it.  Just put your card down like you usually do.  We don't need a trumpet fanfare or ruffles and flourishes just because you are winning the trick.

4.     The worst of my peeves are the gloaters.  I don't mind a "nicely played partner" - no problem.  I do mind hearing that if only the opposition had played and/or held on to a card, the contract would have been set.  I do mind the opponents saying, "Great board partner, they should have made 6".  Please; I usually know when I have screwed up since I do it often enough.  Saying stuff like that is just down and dirty rude. 

5.     Players who ask me, after the hand is over and put back in the board or worse, after we have played four boards, "How many clubs did you have on that first hand?"  Like I remember?  Are you kidding? I can barely remember the count during the hand much less three hands later.

6.     Players who go into the tank on every bid.  Why can't you think ahead?  If my partner or the oppostion does this, I will do that.  Admittedly, sometimes the hands are so odd and the bidding so mysterious, that a visit to the tank is needed but, really, 1 NT, tank; 1 heart 2 hearts, tank?  There are a limited number of options.  Pick one and get on with it.

7.     Players who leave empty cups, food, wrappers, iced tea, used napkins or, worse yet, Kleenex around their recently vacated chair.  They move on to the next table but their detritus remains behind as a not so fond memory of their presence.  I have often heard from the club managers that bridge players are slobs.  If I were a club manager I would say to the offender, "Your Mommy isn't around any more.  Pick up after yourself".  I guess I wouldn't have too many players at my club though.

Please add any of your fave peeves to the comments section.   Thanks for reading.  I feel better already!

How is Bridge Like Boxing?

One of my major character flaws is that I like big time wrestling.  Yes, yes, I know it's all an act but I used to enjoy boxing too.  My Dad used to say, "Hey Jude, the fights are on" and we would settle in to listen to Rocky Marciano on the radio and later on T.V.  Remember the show girl looking babes who, after the bell had done its clang, clang, clang thing and the boxers went to their corners, would stroll around the ring with large placards with the next round number on them?  As I recall, these chicks balanced precariously on 6 inch stilletto heels and didn't have too much clothing to get in the way of showing off  a whole lot of cleavage.  They fascinated me.  I figured that I would never look like them and I was correct.   I haven't watched a boxing match in a while.  I wonder if they still exist?

Club director, Jay, has a voice which, shall we say, carries well.  To call each round, he says, "EVERYBODY MOVE FOR ROUND SIX; ROUND SIX!!!"  For some reason, each time he does it I am reminded of the boxing announcers and I can see those strutting gals.  I have proposed to some of my female partners that we get some posterboard, ink in some numbers, and when Jay calls the round, that we take the appropriate number and march around the club.  Jay says we can do this only if we wear bikinis.  None of my chicken female partners agreed even when I noted that all of us need the exercise.  It was pointed out that the lack of exercise and eating too many club snacks is exactly why we shouldn't parade around scantily clad.  Maybe so.  Putting on a bathing suit to go out in the backyard is about my limit anyway.

The Harem

Husband/partner and 92 year old Bill have in depth baseball conversations about the Phillies and the Braves.  One day, as I was walking into the club and holding the door for Bill he said, "I have a question to ask you."  I replied loud enough for everyone inside to hear since Bill is a little deaf, "If it's about the Phillies, I can't help you."  Laughter from the audience inside.   "No", he said, "it's not about the Phillies.  I need a partner on Monday and wondered if you were free".

The rumor around the club is that Bill plays only with women partners.  These women were named "The Harem" by friend/partner Rebecca who is a member.  Rebecca has been spending a lot of time recently doing grandmother duty so, out of desperation I think, Bill asked if I were available to play. I, of course, jumped at the chance.  Even a substitute harem gig is better than no harem gig at all.

During the first game, one of the opponents noticed the new harem member and said to Bill, "I hear you have only  women bridge partners."  Bill said, "That just isn't true".  The opponent said, "Okay - what guys do you have as partners?"  Bill thought for a moment and then said, "I  like only to have nice people as partners".  What an interesting statement on so many levels.

Our first game wasn't great - in the 40s somewhere; very unlike Bill's usual 62 percent or so.  The second time we played, he gave me a talk before the start of the game.  He said, "I expect to score above 60 percent.  I will accept in the 50s as an okay day.  Any score in the 40s is a practice session."  We had another practice session.  Oh well.  He said he will be free again sometime in July so, the sixties remain a hope.

Meanwhile, the very computer savvy Bill had written up all his helpful hints from his years of playing into a Word file.  He printed it and  gave me a folder full of golden wisdom.  He is my shining example of everything a bridge player should be.  I was and am honored to be a part of Bill's harem.

Watch Your Phraseology!

The title is a line from the MUSIC MAN spoken by the mayor's wife to any kid who said, "darn" or "gee whiz" or whatever passed for kid curses back then.  I want to yell it at sportscasters and athletes who, on a regular basis, massacre my generation's English language.  I know that language evolves.  Otherwise the conversation at the bridge table might go something like this:

"Partner, thou dost not have any hearts?" or "I goeth forth with the knave of spades".  No, I'm not that olde that I want to go back to Shakespearean English.

However, when did the word disrespect become a verb?  My son tells me it is listed as such in the dictionary.  I object, but, sadly, no one asked me.  Worse yet is the prefix "dis" which also seems to have become a verb somewhere along the line when I was off the track and not looking.

My all time favorite word destruction is by our own Sean Elliott, now Spurs sportscaster.  If the Spurs are rolling, he says they are on a "Joggernaut".  Is that an astronaut out for a jog in space?  I think he means "juggernaut" as in rolling over the opposition. I don't have many jogger or juggernauts in my bridge game but I continue to hope for the future.

Sean also says, "The Spurs need to 'score the ball'."  What the heck else would they score? Does he mean take a knife and carve it up?  If we need to "score the cards" should we think about shredding the deck?  I think about that a lot after going down in no trump while the field makes three.

I'm delighted that most bridge players are my age and their English usage is akin to mine.  In what other sport can you hear the word "penultimate" as often as in bridge tournaments?  It's a great word.  You never hear a sportscaster say "We are in the penultimate quarter".  Nope.  Maybe I should watch less sports.  It would help my blood pressure if I just watched with the mute button on.  Maybe I should play more bridge instead.  I don't see how that would help the blood pressure issue though.

Until next time folks, watch that phraseology!

Toes

Husband/partner and I have been married for almost 23 years.  Strange things happen after that amount of time.  I am on some strong cardiac medicines which have many side effects; one of which is sleep disturbance.  I was awakened at 5 AM this morning extremely painful toes on my left foot.  I thought I had bumped them yesterday while working barefoot in the back yard.  The longer I laid in bed, the worse the pain became so I got up to examine toes.  They looked like my usual toes.  As I stayed up for a while, the pain gradually disappeared and I went back to bed and, thankfully, to sleep.

When I finally groggily got up, husband/partner was clanking around the bedroom.  I said, "Boy, do I have some weirdness to tell you about".  He interrupted (he always interrupts me) and said, "You know, the other night at dinner I wanted to tell this story and I didn't get a chance."  The dinner was with 2 other retired  nurses (friend/partner Paula, friend/partner Jay, and his mother) and we were trading medical horror stories.  Husband/partner proceeded to tell me this story:

"One day, I was making rounds with the residents and attending physicians.  We walked into a lady's room and asked her how she was doing.  She said, "I only have nine toes".  Sure enough, the medical student determined that she was correct.  She said, "I had ten yesterday".  Further questioning brought out the fact that said toe had been gangrenous black for a month and the lady was a diabetic.  It was presumed that the toe had died and fallen off somewhere."

It's called synchronicity when something so bizarre happens.  I said to husband/partner, "How did you  know my weirdness was about my toes?"  He replied, "What are you talking about?"  So, my weirdness with my toes just became even stranger yet.

What I want to know is, if he can subconsciously figure out that I had a toe problem during the night, why the heck can't he figure out what I'm bidding??

PREDICTABILITY

Husband/partner had a game with mysterioso Kim last Tuesday night and scored big - first overall with a 60 plus percentage.  Prior to the first hand, Kim provided a quick explanation of his unusual approach to the game which husband/partner absorbed and, obviously, carried out well.  After the game, he said to Kim, "I'll put our card into the computer program and print one out for you in case we play again".  Kim said, "Don't bother.  We will be doing something different next time."

Kim has told me in the past that I am too predictable.  I believe the advice went something like this: "Psych or something once in a while - it would be good for you".  My approach to the game has always been that sound bidding keeps partner from guessing what you might have and also, keeps partners.  I don't know how to psych anyway.  I play different systems with different partners but nothing as different as what Kim plays.  The conventional wisdom around the club is, ignore his bidding and bid your hand because you won't be able to figure out what he is doing even if you ask for an explanation.  I have found this to be true.

My stability has always been my greatest asset.  People have always said, "You have a good head on your shoulders."  For most of my life, I would have traded that for a "You look gorgeous" but, sadly, I would know it to be a lie anyway so I take comfort in my apparent stability.  Who knew it would become yet another bridge liability?

Kim wins way more games than I do.  I need to think about this.  I wonder if there is a program to teach psyching in bridge.  Off to google.

The Other Side

The good news is, your blogger made it through the procedure and out of the hospital, much to her surprise so, there is no bad news.  My doctor wondered why I showed up if I thought I was going to expire on the table.  The answer is, the same reason I play bridge; expect the worst, hope for the best, and be pleasantly surprised when things actually work out the way you want them to.

When I lay down a dummy with 5 points and 2 small trump, my partner, Paula, always says in a very delighted voice, "Thank you, partner, that's lovely".  I call her Tigger, after the always happy hyperactive tiger in Winnie the Poo.  I look at a dummy and, usually in no trump, wonder, sometimes aloud, how in the world I am going to make it.  Then, I roll 6.  She calls me Eeyore, after the clinically depressed donkey friend of Winnie the bear. 

Last week, my 99 year old (would have been 100 in July), mother in law, Reba Hoffman, died quietly in her bed.  She said she didn't want to be 100 and has been asking for the past few years why she was still here on earth to which partner/husband and I had no real answer.  We had to cancel some team games we had planned in the Kerrville sectional to take her back to Philadelphia to be buried next to her beloved husband.  Again, the good wishes and support from everyone in the bridge community meant the world to both of us.

Thanks to all of you and we are so happy to be a part of this group.

Support Doubles

Okay - all of you know that I don't really write about serious bridge stuff so you have probably guessed that the above title is a bit misleading.  The support I'm talking about is the care and love from the people in the bridge community which is at least double what I expected.  I am scheduled to have a small procedure on my heart next Monday.  I haven't  written much in a while because it has been weighing on me and I haven't felt particularly funny.  However, my bridge friends and foes alike cheer me up no matter what.  Friend/partner Rebecca always knows exactly when to listen and what to say to help me put things into perspective.  Biig Al says I'm too mean to die.  Dementor Robert wants to schedule a game so I have to survive.  Feared player, Tom, who always gives me grief both verbally and in the game, was unexpectedly sympathetic until I told him they only made a contract because his partner played it.  That was the end of the sympathy.  We were both kidding around....... I think.

What I am driving at, in this oblique manner, is that I cherish the bridge community and I feel truly fortunate to be accepted as part of it.  Do I like every person who plays? Of course not.  I don't like some, like some, and love others.   I have discovered that despite the likes/dislikes, bridge divorces, bridge wars etc., when one of us hits a bump on the daily trail, fellow bridge players rally round, if only to express concern and kindness.  What defines a community more than that? 

Word has spread through the regulars that I have this thing scheduled and, even players I don't know well, are wishing me the best and saying prayers for me.  I'm not much of  a prayer girl but as they said in WWII, there are no atheists in foxholes, and this is a big, giant foxhole so, all prayers are gratefully accepted.  I'm not counting on the bridge goddess to get me into heaven; not even the novice section.  I think I'll go look for those burnt offerings again; put up the hummingbird feeder and hope for the best.

Medically speaking, I am a double whammy - I am a nurse, married to a doctor - the worst of all possible scenarios for things to go wrong.  However, we are both retired so maybe that will mitigate the problem.  I won't even talk about my notoriously bad luck at just about everything.  Falling back on the "due to" theory - as in - the Spurs are "due to" win against Dallas tomorrow, I'm due to have some good luck after the two month masterpoint drought. 

Thanks to all for your good words and thoughts.  See you on the other side of this thing.

END OF SLUMP? Maybe?

A week ago yesterday, webmaster Steve and I came in first overall in C; respectable.  That night, husband/partner Steve and I won first overall in the tough night game.  I was hopeful but beginning to think that I could only score while playing with someone named Steve.  However, friend/partner Paula and I went to the very fun Rockport, Texas sectional and scored respectably in the first pairs game.  Since then, a few placings have started to trickle in.  It's probably better not to talk about it.

In other news, I have developed a little scoring method to asses where the partnership is during a pairs game.  I make a notation on my score sheet after each board, giving us a grade.  A zero to the right on the score sheet is a bad board, a plus is a good board, and a dash is an average board.  I learned to do this from Biig Al but with a difference.  He always has us above 50 or 60 percent while I usually have us in the basement.  Sadly, I'm usually right.  However, my little scoring method has been remarkably accurate - I'm rarely off our one round to go score by more than 3 percentage points.  It has given me something to do during the slump.  Of course, travelers take all the fun out of it.

Feb. 28th coming up.  Another milestone in the countdown to the end of days.  I guess, if I am lucky, I will end them at a bridge table.

The SLUMP

February is my birth month and when despicable, slumpy January finally ended, I celebrated, expecting the post life master slump to also end.  Not so fast bridge newbie.  February, so far, bridgewise, has been worse than last month.  I have been trying very hard (and not very sucessfully they will tell you) to avoid whining to my partners.  Husband/partner, to make matters worse, has been scoring every time he plays with anyone.  It's one of my more difficult marital duties to continue to be happy for him when he does well.

Husband/partner handed me the Bridge Bulletin and said, "Here, read this".  The editorial column was about being in the midst of a three month slump.  THREE MONTHS!!!! Oh no!!!! I feel like an albatross around my partners' necks now; I can't imagine more months of this.  The weird thing is, I don't feel as if I am playing badly.  Yes, I still make my share of stupid mistakes but I feel that my current problem is more a bad luck, bad karma thing. 

 I've been getting advice from my great partners about what to do.  Carol says, "Don't add anything new to your game."  I haven't.  Annie says, "Take some time off."  No bridge from now until next Tuesday.  Al and dementor Robert say, "You have to keep playing through it."  I will decide on Feb. 28th whether or not I will give up the game.  Phil says, "You need and attitude adjustment."

Re: the attitude thing:  I approach each new day at the club like a puppy waking up in the morning to a whole new world.  I always go to enjoy my time with my bridge friends, get more blog fodder,  and look forward to playing my best game, hopefully with an intermittant reward at the end.  Even going down 800 on the first hand doesn't do me in.  "Oh well", I say to myself, "we have 23 more boards to get some tops to offset it".  I learned this theory from Biig Al for whom it sometimes works.  Lately, however, by the end of the round, I know it's been bad and I am stuck in my black cloud of doom and trying very hard not to whine or cry.

I'm relieved to have the next fews days as non playing days.  I'll try to help an old lady across the street, stop to help accident victims on the highway, foil a robbery, or otherwise get some good karma stored up.  I can't think of anything else to do.  All suggestions are welcome.  Push the comment button and help the author.

All Kinds

The bridge world contains both the great and good and the bad and ugly just like the rest of life, I guess.  Yesterday, I was in a doubled 4 heart contract.  The last trick, which set the contract, was taken by left hand opponent.  As she presented her good diamond with a flourish she said, "HAH! Got YA!"  I said, "That isn't very nice".  Her response was, "Oh don't get so upset; IT'S JUST A GAME"; my least favorite way to describe bridge.  I asked her if she played rubber bridge since I had seen neither she nor her partner in the club before.  Her partner (who seemed like a decent person) said "No" and gloating woman said "Yes - I play all card games".  I said, "Well that figures.  That's the kind of behavior you get in rubber games".   Gloating woman became huffy and said, "I've been playing duplicate since before you were born".  The answer to that, of course, is, "Gee, I thought you would have learned table manners in 66 years" but I didn't say it.  Off she went to annoy the next opponents.  Ick.