Doubles

Yesterday I started an informal survey, asking "What is your New Year's resolution in terms of bridge?"  I don't yet have enough responses for a full report, but one resolution caught my attention.

"I want to get clearer on doubles," Julie said.  "Take-out doubles, redoubles, all that."

"Not just when to double," Dee clarified, "but also what to do when the opponents double."

Doubling may seem quite basic to more advanced readers of this blog, but Julie and I have recently noted that more experienced players double a lot.  When bidding is below game level, how do you know if this is for take-out or penalty?  When I've asked just this question of my Flight A friends, the inevitable response is something like "just watch the bidding, it will be obvious."  Hmm.  My brother recently asked me this question when we partnered for a game, and my more helpful response was "if I double below the game level, it's for take-out; at the game level, it's for penalty."  He thanked me with a sigh of relief.

There is an even more basic issue in terms of doubles.

In my never ending quest to learn from experienced players, I had asked Sue for a game.  We played yesterday, and while I generally stay calm, I was a bit nervous.  Instead of just relaxing, I was trying very hard to do my best and not make stupid mistakes.  This, of course, was a mistake in itself.  About half way through the game, we sat down at a table and I picked up my cards.  I had nothing.  I passed, my LHO opened 1 club, Sue passed, my RHO bid 2 clubs, I passed again, LHO passed.  I mentally checked out; I had nothing, my partner had nothing.  Sue put down a card, my RHO threw down a pass card and started to gather up her bidding cards, signaling that she thought I was going to pass and the bidding was over.  I threw down my pass card and heard a gasp from my partner.  I looked up; Sue's bid had been a double.  Oh boy.

The opponents played 2 clubs doubled, making 3.  I was horrified, and it must have shown on my face because everyone tried to make me feel better.  "Everyone in this room has done that at one time," "I've made worse mistakes," and "Don't worry about it, not a big deal" were some of comments made by my partner and the opponents.  We ended up with a just below average board, so it could have been worse.  (Of course it could have been a lot better, too.)

So while there are many facets to doubles, the most basic thing is to notice when your partner bids one.

Happy Holidays!

"Are you playing bridge Friday night?"  Julie asked.  Dee stood next to her, and I wondered at their interest in my plans.

"Yes, I'm playing with Walt," I replied.

"You'll be the only ones there, no one else we've talked to will be playing bridge," they laughed.

We weren't the only pair at the club last night, but many of the regulars were absent this day before Christmas Eve.  There were only five and a half tables, so we did that movement where we end up playing almost everyone.  It's kind of fun wandering the room and switching from north/south to east/west.

Several weeks ago I had asked Walt to play and he had kindly agreed.  I'm not exactly nervous partnering with an A player, but not exactly relaxed either.  My number one concern is to not look stupid; a close second is the desire to learn everything I can.  My third goal--well, this actually supersedes everything--is to place somewhere near the top.  All three were accomplished.

Not looking stupid:  It helped that Walt ended up playing more than I did.  That said, while my bidding and play weren't perfect, I did have some good moments.  One hand in particular comes to mind, when I was declarer in a 3NT contract.  When dummy came down I saw that I needed to focus on the clubs.  I thought about and played that suit carefully, but in doing so neglected to unblock my spades.  Sometimes it is difficult to think of everything at the same time.  However, I made the contract and one of the opponents noted that I had done a good job with the clubs.  Thank you, Dennis!

Learning:  Walt took the time to explain about defensive signaling, which is huge.  I also learned that doubling a 4 spade opening is for penalty (oops) and that the take-out bid is 4NT.  I learned that when my partner opens to let him know that I have 10 points (not 6-9) even if I think it's a bad 10 points.   I learned that bridge is a bidder's game.  I've heard that before but now I'm beginning to understand what that means.  It used to seem like A players stuck in bids willy-nilly, but last night I saw a method to that madness.

Placing near the top:  We came in first in B and second in A.  You know that I like to come in first (who doesn't), and I just wrote how important it is to me to place.  However, my absolute number one priority in playing bridge is to have a good time.  And I did.  

Last week I arrived at the bridge club sporting a new hair style.  Of course Julie noticed immediately and complimented me.  We briefly discussed the salon, how long the process took, the price, possible alternatives, and where a mutual friend goes to get her hair done.  At that point it was time to start playing bridge, which we did.  Later that afternoon we were at a table in the middle of the room when Mike walked by.  He glanced over at me.

"I like your hair," he said.

"Thank you," I replied.  I was pleased and more than a little surprised.  "That was really nice," I said to the table.  "It's unusual for a man to notice."

"Yes, but Mike would notice," one of the ladies said.  Her partner nodded approvingly.  Julie was uncharacteristically silent . . . until last night.

"I shouldn't tell you this," Julie began over a glass of wine.  Although this opening may sound ominous, I have heard it before and so was not alarmed.

"Yes?" I asked, my curiousity piqued.

"You know when Mike said he liked your hair?  I told him to say that."

"What! And we were so impressed with him," I laughed.

Now for a word about bridge.  When I think about yesterday's game, what comes to mind is how many times I had to turn control over to Julie.  I opened several times, either with a very good hand or with a very good preemptive hand.  Sometimes I doubled because the opponents opened and I had a very strong hand.  Often, though, Julie then responded with a different suit that I could support.  I felt a twinge every time this happened, but bridge is all about teamwork so I went where we needed to go.  While being the declarer is exciting, I think I like the bidding process--when I hold interesting cards--even better.    

More on Slam Bidding

Slam bidding continues to be interesting.  Sometimes it goes smoothly, sometimes it goes awry, and sometimes -- like in yesterday's game -- we end up in the right place in spite of ourselves.  Here's what happened.  I had 23 high card points and opened 2 clubs.  South passed and Julie responded 2 hearts.

"Alert," I said.  We bid controls and so I started going through the possibilities: 2 diamonds means a king or less, 2 hearts . . .

"What does that mean?"  North interrupted my thought process and I was stymied.

"I have to think for a minute," I said.

"That's okay, never mind."  Both opponents seemed to understand my embarrassment in not knowing the answer and didn't want me to stress about it.

"I have to think anyway," I responded.  Even if the opponents didn't care anymore, I still had to figure it out and bid properly.  North reached for my convention card, which furthered my discomfort in not knowing.  Then it came to me.

"It means that she has . . ." I started triumphantly.  Both opponents interrupted and spoke over me.

"We don't want to know."

"But she was reaching for my card, so I was going to tell her."

"She can look at your card," South said.  "But when we say never mind, you can't say anything."

I apologized, and that's when I realized that they were not being sympathetic about my memory lapse.  They were hoping that I would come to the wrong conclusion and that Julie would be in the dark!  Well, I came to the correct conclusion and realized that we had all of the aces.  The next thing would be to figure out where to play.  I bid 2NT and started mentally going through the possible Puppet Stayman bids and responses.

Julie bid 4NT.

Hmm, I thought.  I don't think that's 1430 because wouldn't we do Gerber over 2NT?  Plus, I already know we have all of the aces and we don't have a suit.  But she bypassed 3NT so she must think slam is a possibility.  What the heck.

I bid 6NT.

"What do you think her 4NT means?"  South asked.  I thought it interesting that he didn't ask what her bid meant, but rather what I thought it meant.  I could see that he didn't have much confidence in our communication.

"I think it means she has a big hand," I replied.  "She's thinking about slam."

"What did her 2 hearts bid mean?"

"That she has an ace."

South's expression showed his confusion in trying to reconcile a big hand with having an ace.  When dummy came down, there was indeed only one control, the ace, but also other cards that fit nicely with my hand.  We did make 6NT, which was a good board for us. Others in the room got there as well, but not everyone did, and most likely not by the same route.

Counting

STaC week ended with yesterday afternoon's game; the results were light-years away from what happened last year.  At the beginning of this week a year ago, Julie and I were enthusiastic, positive, and looking forward to winning some silver points.  At the conclusion of that week we agreed that it was awful and hoped to never see it again.  This year, though, we placed in every game that we played in together and got enough silver for our next ACBL level (although we still need points).  Sometimes it is difficult to see progress, so this was an encouraging yardstick.

In yesterday's game I had the opportunity to work on my defensive skills.  Here's an example:  I was sitting South and defending against a 4 spades contract in the East.  In the course of the play I had taken a trick and was looking at a board with 2 trumps and no clubs.  I played a club; declarer played a low trump from dummy, Julie played a high trump and we won the trick.  The opponents went down one, followed by a discussion of what happened.

"I should have played the king," declarer said.

"I don't think that would have helped," dummy replied.

"No," Julie added.  "That would have just set up my jack."

"Maybe I should have..."

I listened for a minute as the three of them analyzed and conjectured before I finally chimed in.  "You know," I said, "not everyone is going to lead a club."

"Oh!"  They turned to me expectantly.

"I was keeping track."

"She's a counter," Julie said.

"You have to count," the opponents agreed.

That ended the discussion and it was time for the next round.  I did not disabuse them of their assumption that I had counted the clubs.  In fact, I had thought about the number of clubs in my hand and how the bidding had gone, and concluded that there was a good chance that Julie was out.  Since she was behind dummy she would be able to ruff higher or maybe one of her trumps would set up.  Not as impressive as actually counting, but at least I was thinking.

I am trying to count, though.  I start out okay but quickly become distracted and forget to keep counting.  I do better when I am the declarer, but even then I am not systematically keeping track of all of the suits.  I am going to keep at it, though, since I believe it is key to improving my game.

Deja Vu

Something happened at yesterday's game that strongly reminded me of a hand that I played over a year ago.  Just like the hand back then, one of the opponents was the director and I was the declarer.  We were in a game contract--5 diamonds this time instead of 3NT--but otherwise everything was the same.  When dummy came down I made a plan; everything worked and I made 6.  I was feeling good and looked over at my partner, Mimi, who gave me a happy smile.  I was thinking about how we might have bid slam when the director turned to me just as she had over a year ago.

"You should have been in spades," she said.

Sigh.  Of course she was right, both yesterday and a year ago.  I don't remember what happened last time, but this time I was in love with my seven beautiful diamonds.  I rebid them even though I had three of my partner's spades.  I need to keep in mind what Jerry Helms said at the tournament in Louisville:  It's not what you have and it's not what your partner has; it's what you both have together.  Easier said than done sometimes, at least for me.