Boasting?

I have to come back to the topic of slam bidding and indulge in a little self-congratulatory behavior.  I realize that at first glance this may not appear proper, but let me explain.  Not that long ago I was completely confused not only about how to get to slam, but especially about how to stop the train once it had left the station.  If Julie or I was so bold as to initiate Gerber or Blackwood (now we use 1430), signing off was almost impossible.  We inevitably stopped only when we reached 6 hearts or spades or NT, and probably would have gone on to bid grand slams except that was simply too scary.  We often didn't understand what the other was bidding; who am I kidding, we didn't even understand our own bids.  Afterwards, kind opponents would explain what we should have done and it always made sense . . . until the next time we had big hands.  It was all very intimidating and I could feel my heart start to race if it even looked like we were heading in that direction.

On Monday evening we played a hand where I ended up bidding 4 clubs, Gerber, to see if slam was a possibility.  I saw by Julie's response that it wasn't and I was able to make a bid that Julie actually passed.  We were both quite pleased, especially since we made the contract (one trick less than slam).

This afternoon was even more exciting.  Julie opened and I held 17 HCPs.  After the bidding showed that we were missing one key card, I had to decide what to do.  Julie's suit was diamonds, but I had only 2 little ones and otherwise a balanced hand.  I bid 6 NT.  My pulse was normal and I looked forward to trying to make this contract -- which I did.  Not only that, we were the only ones in the game to bid and make slam on that board!        

There seem to be so many opportunities to feel badly about how we bid and play.  Someone else almost always gets to a better contract, makes one extra trick, or defends more successfully.  At some point there is almost always a memory or counting slip, or simply a lapse of judgment.  Add to that the occasional rude comment -- like the one I experienced a couple of weeks ago -- and it would be easy to be negative and discouraged.  Boasting at the table is of course frowned upon, but I think it is important that you celebrate with your bridge partner when you two are the ones who reach the best contract, make that extra trick, and defend most successfully.

Thanksgiving

The turkey is in the oven and all is under control, so I have a few minutes to give thanks for duplicate bridge.  Following are my reflections, in no particular order of importance.  (I have a few minutes, not all morning.)

I am thankful that we will soon be getting electronic scorers and automatic shufflers.  I'll have to see if Julie will let me sit North sometimes so I can score; I like electronics.

Last week when I was in a slow line in Meijer, the man behind me said that he didn't mind waiting because he didn't have anything else to do anyway until the paper came at 4:00.  He sounded lonely and bored as he continued to chat, and I was thankful that I will never be in that state of mind because I can always play bridge.

I am thankful that we have four games a week in Grand Rapids and games in nearby cities on the other days.  There is always a game that fits my schedule.

Sometimes I am thankful when there are only 2 boards a round.  This gives me less time with grumpy people as well as less time with players who tend to give us low boards.  Usually these two groups don't overlap.

I am thankful for all of the interesting, intelligent, and friendly people I've met at the bridge club.

I am thankful for the Flight A players who give me games, when I know they would rather play with partners at their own level.  (Although I have to say that I am a fun partner.)

I am thankful for all of the snacks that people regularly bring to the games.

I am thankful for the people who read my blog and leave comments, both in writing and in person.  I am also thankful for those who click on ads on this blog.

I am thankful for our well organized, fair directors who calm down disputes and put people in their places when necessary.

I am thankful for the benefactor who paid for everyone's game several weeks ago.  (I hope s/he does it again.)

I am thankful that we often go out for drinks after bridge.

Even though I knew Julie before we started playing duplicate bridge, through bridge we have become extraordinary friends.  I am thankful for that.

It is now time to once again baste the turkey, so I will end my list here.  I invite you to comment on what you are thankful for, bridge-related or otherwise.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Good Things

A few weeks ago on a Friday evening, Julie played bridge with another partner.  A player from Kalamazoo, used to seeing the Julie-Margaret partnership, wondered what was going on.

"Where's Margaret tonight?" Beth asked.

"She's doing something with her boyfriend," Julie replied.

"Her boyfriend!"  Beth was astonished.  "I've never heard anything about a boyfriend.  I've heard and read about her cat, but nothing about a boyfriend."

Apparently they then discussed that Randy should get at least a little print time, especially considering all of the Halloween pictures I posted of Amadeus.  I'm not sure that this conclusion is valid, since he's been in the Grand Rapids Press a lot lately (he's a musician) AND he did not dress up for Halloween, but here you go.  I bring this up now because yesterday evening I was again out with him instead of playing bridge.

However, I did play bridge on Wednesday afternoon.  Julie and I had a good game, coming in first in C and first in B in our section (you know how much I like being first!).  Some things come to mind about this game.

First, I thought that one of our top boards was the result of making an extra trick.  I was the declarer on this particular hand and one of our opponents, a top player, made a mistake in defending and threw off the wrong card.  How clever I am, I thought, in playing all of my trumps at the end rather than just giving up my loser.  This way, my "loser" became a winner.  While this was a good thing, when I checked the scores I discovered that this extra trick was not the deciding factor in giving us a top board.  It turns out that we were just in a better contract than everybody else.  Also a good thing.

Second, we learned another nuance of the never-ending rules of bridge.  Julie was the declarer and was on the board; however, she pulled a card out of her hand.  "You're on the board," I said, but I didn't say it quickly enough.  Both of our opponents said, "I accept it."  We didn't really want it accepted, since playing out of her hand cost us an extra trick, but we had no choice.  It turns out that if the declarer has the card in the played position, meaning almost on the table (or on the table, of course), the opponents can accept it and it is then considered played.  If the card is still sort of in front of the declarer, even if the opponents see the card it is not considered played.  Good to know.

Finally, the idea of mental toughness continues to haunt me.  I think that one of the reasons I played better on Wednesday is because I was often the declarer.  My mind didn't have a chance to wander or get lazy because of this, so I stayed sharper.  I have to learn to keep my focus even if I get bad cards.  That would be really good.

Slam

Julie and I played bridge last Friday, which can be a tough game.  We did all right, though, coming in first in C.  There was one snafu (well, one that I want to focus on) that comes to mind:  we missed bidding a slam.  Here's what happened.

I opened 1 spade, even though I only had 10 or 11 HCPs.  My suit was solid and my hand met the "rule of 20" guideline.  I don't remember the exact sequence of bidding anymore, but at one point very early on Julie bid 4N.  Oh oh, I thought.  She thinks I have more than I do.  Nothing for it but to tell her that I had only one key card.  She signed off in 5 spades but I made slam.

"Did you bid slam?" an A player asked us later.

"No," we replied.

"Why not?  You were only missing one key card."

"I was chicken," Julie admitted.  "We were on the right track, we just didn't get into the station."

This scenario stayed on Julie's mind and was almost the first thing she referred to when we met up earlier today for a Sunday afternoon of bridge.

"I'm bidding slam today!" She was determined to not let that bid get away from her again.

"If it's there or not!" I joked.

These turned out to be prophetic words.  Julie bid and made 2 slams.  I think before my next game I'm going to try that strategy and say something like, "I'm going to bid game if it's there, not bid it if it isn't (unless it would be a good sacrifice), and bid and make slam."  The power of positive thinking.

It Worked!

It worked this time!  Once again I was in a bidding war with our opponents and they went to 5 hearts.  My suit was spades and I knew I couldn't make 5, but we weren't vulnerable and I could count on a little something from my partner.  On top of that, my hand would be worthless defensively.  I put last week out of my mind and bid 5, opponents passed without doubling, and the play started.  We went down 3 for minus 150.  It looked like they could have made game, but I did not (mentally) celebrate.  What if none of the other east-west pairs bid game?  Then it would once again be a low board.

As you can tell from the title, this time my sacrifice was successful.  We got a top board.

In case this entry sounds a little too self-congratulatory, don't worry, all of my bidding was not on target.  I had learned how to bid this next type of hand during my first few weeks of learning to play bridge almost three years ago, but I still managed to mess up.  My RHO opened a weak 3 hearts; I was holding a 5 card spade suit and 20 points.  DOUBLE DOUBLE DOUBLE . . . but I didn't.  Instead I bid 3 spades, everyone passed, and I made 6.  I think it was the weak opening that threw me.  As soon as I saw my cards I was formulating a plan, but that went out the window when my opponent bid.  I have to learn to be more flexible.

First Wednesdays

The first Wednesday of every month we play boards that have been made ahead of time, and then after the game we get hand records.  Most people who refer to these, I suspect, use them to learn and improve their games.  Sometimes I do that, too.  Not this week.

When I've had a not-so-great game I like to focus on what I did right.  Wednesday we scored in the low 40s; not all that long ago I would have considered that just fine, but no longer.  So to help bolster my bridge ego, I checked on our top boards rather than the bottom ones.  It was nice to note good defense on one board, getting to the right contract on another, making an extra trick on a third.  I did need to take a detour from self-congratulation, though, to check on at least one low board.

Two days later I can still remember all of those red cards in my hand.  I didn't have much more than opening, but I had seven really nice diamonds and at some point in the auction my partner showed me that she had support.  So when our opponents went to 4 spades, I decided to bid 5 diamonds.  If they go to 5 spades, I reasoned, maybe they'll go down.  I thought that if I got the bid and they doubled me (vulnerable), it would still be okay.  The opponents opted for the latter and even with those beautiful diamonds I went down for 500.  When we looked at the cards, though, it seemed like it was going to be a good board for us because they clearly could have made 4 spades (also vulnerable).

In fact, the hand records showed that they could have made 5 spades.  Apparently a good sacrifice isn't good if none of the opponents in the field bid game.  Rats.

Slam

Yesterday I played bridge with Lee.  The last round was interesting because I opened with only 10 HCPs.  I held five very nice spades along with five okay clubs, and using the Rule of 20 I took a breath and bid 1 spade.  My LHO passed and I watched with increasing unease as Lee pondered what to do.  She bid 2 hearts.  Yikes!  I should have known better than to open, I thought.  Now what?  I had to bid clubs which put us at the 3 level with my partner thinking I had more than I did.  Lee responded with 3 diamonds.  Well, at least my next move was clear.  For better or worse--probably worse, I thought--I said "alert" and bid 3NT.

Imagine my astonishment when Lee next bid 6 spades.  She will not be happy to see my measely 10 points, I thought.  Then in a flash I realized that I would be playing the hand--yikes again!

My LHO led the ace of diamonds and dummy came down.  Lee had nice spade support and 21 HCPs; slam was a cinch.  While the auction may have been unorthodox, it got us where we needed to be.  We came in first in C (yippee, first!) and I will again consider opening a two suited, 10 point hand.

On another note:  I thought I was done with posting pictures of Amadeus, since Halloween is over and he is out of costumes.  However, I had a special request from JP for just one more picture.  Here you go, Jim!