Memory

When I first started playing bridge and listened to other players talk about their hands after a game, I was amazed at their recall. They remembered not only their own cards, but knew what everyone else had held as well. On top of that, they discussed the opening lead and what would have happened if someone had done this instead of that.

Julie and I would look at each other in wonderment. I couldn't remember my own cards or bidding, much less what others at the table had held or did. Sometimes I couldn't even recall these things immediately after the hand had been played, while I was still sitting at the table.

"It'll come," we were told.

"When?" we wondered.

"It takes time."

Well, it appears that the time has come. This week I was amazed that Julie and I could reconstruct the bidding and then analyze what happened for almost every hand that we had played that afternoon. Granted, I couldn't tell you what cards everyone held or what the opening lead was for every hand, but it was still a break-through. Maybe motivation had something to do with it.

Julie and I were east-west and our friend Dee had sat in the same direction. This was especially interesting to us because her partner was a Flight A player and we were eager to compare our moves with his. We didn't end up with a very good game and hoped to discover where we had gone wrong. Following is what we learned about one hand.

Me: What did you do on board 1?

Dee: 4 hearts in the west, down 1. That was a good board for us.

Me: We were 2NT in the east, down 2. Bad for us.

Julie: That's the hand where I bid 1 heart.

Me: Right. I opened 1 diamond because I had 18 points but no suit.

Julie: I didn't really have enough points to bid, but I couldn't leave you in diamonds because I only had 2 of them. I had 6 hearts, though, so I bid a heart.

Me: I only had 2 hearts, so I jumped to 2NT to show my points.

Julie: And I left you there. Should I have just passed?

Me: I don't think playing it in 1 diamond would have been any better. Dee, how did you get to 4 hearts?

Dee: Well, Jim opened 1 diamond and then the opponents bid. I wanted to show him that I had hearts, so I bid 2 hearts and then he went to 4 hearts.

Me: He had 18 points, so even if it had been a 5-2 heart fit he would have been confident because you had bid at the 2 level.

Dee: Right. I should have bid 3 hearts to show I was weak.

Julie: If our opponents had bid, it would have turned out differently for us.

I'm not really sure what we learned about this bidding sequence, other than the whims of our opponents--to bid or not to bid--can really affect what happens. Not exactly big news. Still, it was fun to compare and analyze. It was especially good to be able to remember enough of what had happened to be able to compare and analyze.

A Conversation

Yesterday Julie and I played in the NAP finals in Lansing. Following is an approximation of the conversation we had afterwards as we sipped on drinks in a sports bar in Grand Rapids.

Julie: It's odd how we played so much better in the afternoon but we got about the same score in the evening, when we made more mistakes.

Me: I think everyone is tired in the evening; we should always play in the evenings at tournaments. We just have to make sure that we're rested.

Julie: Agreed. We did get some gifts.

Me: What about that guy that threw his cards when I went to 3NT and made it?

Julie: What was up with that? Then he acted all friendly.

Me: He was strange. Okay, what should I write about in my blog about this experience?

Julie: What was the theme of the day? What stood out?

Me: I've been thinking about how much I enjoy the process of learning something new. Once I get to a certain point, when I've learned what I wanted to, I quit and go on to something else. It's the journey that most interests me.

Julie: That's very Aquarian. I'm the same way.

Me: But with bridge, I'll never get to that point where I've learned everything I need to know. This may be the activity that I never quit. Even though I want to get better scores and win, I am very aware that where we are right now is a good place to be. One of the A players said that playing at tournaments at the higher levels isn't fun because if you make a mistake, everyone is on it. People expect us to make mistakes.

Julie: But are we getting better?

Me: Yes.

Julie: But how can you tell? There's not a way to measure it. Are we like greyhounds, going in circles chasing a rabbit?

Me: I have a friend who adopted two greyhounds. They couldn't climb stairs and freaked out when they had to walk on different surfaces, like grass.

Julie: Those poor dogs are really abused.

Me: But we're not like greyhounds, we're making progress.

Julie: We would make more progress if we hired someone to teach us and play with us. But that wouldn't be as much fun.

Me: Exactly. That's what I was getting at earlier . . . we're both competitive, but the journey is enjoyable too. But maybe we should see if John and Joanne will play with us again on a Friday.

At about this point others joined us and the conversation turned to other things. Our tournament scores were in the mid-forties, nothing to get excited about but not embarrasing either. Since my time for bridge is limited these days, we're probably going to play in Kalamazoo on Saturday. Stay tuned!

Mistakes

Julie and I continued our mini-trend with another good game today. We didn't get many good cards, though, and Julie was declarer only once. She should have played at least twice, but one time when she opened 2 clubs I accidently stole the bid and had to play it out of my weak hand. Rather than go on about that, though, I would rather describe a couple of other mistakes I made. Those were much more interesting -- mainly because they turned out much better for us.

Here's the first one: Julie opened 1 Club and I studied my hand. I had 12 or 13 HCPs but no suit, so I planned to bid 2NT. Before I could do so, however, my RHO overcalled 1 Heart. Now what? I didn't have a suit and I couldn't bid 2NT over interference because while I'm not sure what that would mean, I am sure it wouldn't mean that I had 12 points. I had hearts stopped with Kxx so I bid 1NT instead. As soon as I made the bid, I sent a mental message out to everyone at the table: bid again, bid again, bid again, somebody bid again. Please.

My LHO passed. My partner passed. My RHO paused . . . and bid 2 Hearts. I calmly bid 3NT, which was a big surprise for everyone, and they all passed. A heart was led and dummy came down. I was happy to see the diamonds, which would set up beautifully, but was concerned about the lack of good hearts. MY RHO ducked and I took the first trick with my king. I knew I couldn't afford to lose the lead, so I played with that in mind. And I never did lose the lead--I took all of the tricks.

I learned later that I should have cue bid the hearts.

The other interesting mistake I made was against a top pair in the club. As I waited for the bid to come around to me, I looked at my hand and thought "I have nothing to say." I had 6 sad points and had already mentally passed when I realized that I had to bid something. Julie had opened 1 Club and my RHO had passed. While I wanted to pass as well, I realized that with 6 points I had to say something. I bid 1NT and everyone passed.

I don't know if it was at the moment I bid 1NT or if it was when the last person had passed that I realized that I held 4 little hearts in my hand. Yikes! I hoped there wouldn't be any hearts in dummy, but of course there were. We should have been in hearts, and I knew that this fact would not escape anyone's notice. I did the best I could but went down 1 and got ready.

"Why didn't you bid hearts?" My RHO asked, perplexed.

"I don't want to talk about it," I replied. Of course I talked about it anyway, and everyone was very kind. They even figured out that I was better off in 1NT than in hearts, and indeed I was. We got an above average board.

It's a beautiful thing when a mistake works out for the best, but it's better yet when I learn something from it. Hopefully both will be in play on Sunday.

A Positive Attitude

Since school started and I am back teaching at the community college, I have less time for bridge and less time for writing about bridge. I am still trying to figure out a way to get around this, but so far no luck. There has to be a way to make a living with bridge that does not involve being a Grand Master, because even with my positive attitude--and I am positive beyond what's reasonable--the way things are going, I will be at least 124 years old before that happens. (And I may need a few years beyond that.)

Anyway, I played yesterday afternoon with Julie and we had a good game. I made two unusual bids--one worked for us and one did not. First the one that worked: My RHO opened 2 clubs. I had less than 10 points but I did have 7 spades. Hmm . . . what the heck, I thought, even though nothing will come of it maybe I can mess up their bidding. So I bid 2 spades, making this the first time I overcalled a 2 club opening. (Again, my positive attitude shows--I had jack high.) My LHO doubled (stolen bid) and everyone passed. Everyone passed! I was not thrilled with this development but I was not horrified, either. At least I knew where all the points were, and since they were not with me and my partner this would most likely be a good sacrifice. I went down 300 and we got a top board.

Now for the bid that did NOT work: My RHO opened 1 NT. I had 16 HCP in my hand and was itching to bid. Unfortunately this is the one situation that falls by the wayside when you play DONT, which is what we play. I should have passed but I just couldn't do it. I took a breath and bid 2 NT.

"Alert," Julie promptly said. The opponents looked at her.

That's interesting, I thought. I wonder what she'll say; DONT doesn't cover this bid. She didn't have to say anything right then because no one asked. Everyone passed but then the opener came back to it.

"What does her 2NT bid mean?"

"We play DONT." Julie paused, and along with our opponents I waited to hear the explanation that would follow. "It means . . . well, it might mean . . . actually, I'm not sure what it means."

"Doesn't it mean she has both of the minors?" One of the opponents tried to be helpful.

"No, I don't think so." Good job, Julie, I mentally congratulated. Just then the director came by and saw what was going on.

"Yes, that means she has both of the minors," he said, agreeing with our opponents.

"No," Julie said, "It would only mean the minors if the opener had bid a major." That's right, I thought. Don't let them confuse you.

The discussion went on for another minute or so while I sat there quietly, looking down so as to not give anything away. Once play started everyone figured out that I had an opening no trump hand, and it did not go well for me. I went down and got a low--although not bottom--board. Next time I will just pass.

To return to the title of this entry and my positive attitude, next week Julie and I are playing in the NAP finals in Lansing. I cannot imagine why I think we might win, but maybe the stars will be aligned and our opponents will be tired/hungover and we won't make any mistakes. You never know.

Top Ten List

This afternoon I played bridge with my brother. He just learned how to play this year, and since I started two years ago I'm the "senior" person in this partnership, even though he's older. Here are the top ten reasons that I play bridge with Ed:

10. He asks me.

9. He's good natured and easy-going.

8. People are tickled when they realize that we're brother and sister, playing as a team.

7. It reminds me of when I first started, and it gives me a boost to realize how much I've learned.

6. He doesn't tell me what I did wrong.

5. I don't have to be diplomatic when I tell him what he did wrong.

4. He says "you're right" when I comment on the bidding or play.

3. Intead of me asking a more experienced player to be my partner so I can learn from the experience, I get to be the "expert" for a change.

2. I can blame him if we get a bad board.

1. No matter how our game ends up, we're rated the #1 brother-sister bridge partnership in Michigan! (Okay, as far as we know, we're the ONLY brother-sister partnership in Michigan.)

Electronic Scorers

A while ago Julianne (aka Julie) and I played bridge at another club, and upon returning to Grand Rapids we met her husband for dinner at Thousand Oaks Golf Club.

"It was a lot more expensive," I said. Phil, who had spent that afternoon playing golf, looked interested.

"Really? How much was it?"

"Five dollars!"

"You played all afternoon for five dollars?" He chuckled, probably thinking about the expense of playing golf. "What does it cost in Grand Rapids?"

"Three-fifty."

"You can't beat that," he said.

This conversation came to mind because our club has just raised the playing fee to $4.00. The extra fifty cents will go toward electronic scorers and a duplicating machine. I am really looking forward to those scorers, which should help keep my emotions stablized. Let me explain.

It seemed like Julianne and I were doing okay at yesterday's game. Not outstanding, but decent. Twice I was able to use a bidding strategy that Darryl had recommended a couple of weeks ago, and both times this put us in the right contract. Another time I ended up playing five diamonds, doubled, and I made it. We were using "travelers" to keep score, which meant that after each board we could see what others had done up to that point. All three of these boards were looking good. Some of the other hands were also good and some not so good, which confirmed our feeling that were were doing okay. For us, that meant a percentage somewhere in the mid-forties.

Imagine our dismay at the end of the evening when we were at 38%. Discouraged and baffled, we reluctantly agreed to go out with the group for drinks. As we all sat around the table at the restaurant, chatting and talking about the hands of the evening, I decided to bring up the jewel of my evening. Five diamonds, doubled, had to be a good board, I thought. If I hear what others did on that hand, maybe I'll feel better.

The print-out showed that we had minus 550 points instead of plus.

"Joanne!" Upon this horrifying discovery I immediately called the director, who was sitting at the other end of the table and into a different conversation. "There's been a mistake!"

"We can fix it. What's wrong?" Joanne spoke calmly, apparently in an attempt to soothe my panic. I explained what had happened. "I've already adjusted that. In fact, there were two mistakes. Your score went up."

Our percentage ended up in the mid-forties, which is okay for us on a Friday evening (those are tougher games). So I look forward to those electronic scorers, which should make things easier and keep my pulse stabilized by being more accurate.

Although, now that I think of it, the numbers do have to be put in manually so there's still the possibility of human error. Hmm . . .