Day 1: Monday

Unknocked!  We are still in the first knock-out, which means that even though we aren’t done yet, for sure we won 6 gold.  Progress in my quest for Life Master!

Now that you know the most important thing about Monday, let me give you my impressions of Gatlinburg and the tournament.  Even though I’ve heard a lot about how commercial and touristy this city is, and it is, I like it.  But then, I also like the Vegas strip and New Orlean’s Bourbon Street. Lots of people everywhere, but not so many that you can’t negotiate sidewalks.  Doug even found a free parking space not far from the Convention Center (but then, I hear he is a master of that).  There’s good food—we ate at Bubba Gump’s, where I saw Jerry’s license plate on the wall.  Most importantly, people are friendly.

In fact, that is a big difference I see between this regional and national tournaments.  At nationals, people seem more rushed and tense.  Here, there is a calmer and friendlier atmosphere.  Lots of people, but no pushing or yelling (not to imply that that behavior permeates nationals, but it does happen).  Also, Susan suggested that people are more relaxed because so many of them play team games, where they are with a group of friends.  Which brings me to the actual game.

I partnered with Doug; Kathy and Susan were at the other table.  Here’s what happened with one hand.  I had really nice cards—18 HCP with 5 spades.  I opened 1 spade, with all of the possible rebids going through my mind.  I was ready—or so I thought.  Doug responded 3NT.  Hmm, I thought, looks like slam to me but let’s double check.  I did not rush to rebid—oh no.  Are we playing some kind of weird thing where this would be weak?  Nooo.  Are we playing Jacoby 3NT?  Even though I like this convention, few of the people I play with do, so no again.  Okay, he must have opening, but I needed to check for the 2 missing aces.  I bid Gerber, my partner responded 4 spades.  I thought it through twice just to be sure, since I don’t bid Gerber very often.  Yes, I had located the 2 missing aces.  Nothing else to think about (or so I thought) and I bid 6 NT.  Doug played it for down 1.  Apparently we DO play Jacoby 3NT, and he had tried to correct to spades after the Gerber bid.  Our opponents at the other table were in 6 spades, making.  Oh well.  We made up for it by getting to 2 games that they did not.  As Susan said, “It doesn’t matter.  We won the round.”

As I write this on Tuesday morning, we are preparing to leave for my first compact knock-out.  This time, Doug and I will be teaming with Cristi and Barb (their team, with Julie and Dee, also won yesterday) while Susan and Kathy will be with Don and Karen from Kalamazoo. This will be followed by afternoon and (hopefully) evening sessions.  I usually just play 2 sessions a day, but I’ve already gotten sucked in to the whole Gatlinburg experience.

Hello Again, Dear Readers!

What momentous occasion has brought me back to you, you ask?  After all of this time, what has inspired me to write again?  It must be something big, you muse.  Hmm, bridge in mid April…newly retired with free time in the spring for the first time since she was 5 years old…can it be…is it possible...she must be in…GATLINBURG!

Yes, for the first time I am able to attend the Gatlinburg regional tournament.  We haven’t started playing yet, but the fun has already started.

No, I am not here with Julie and I didn’t even drive here with her.  But you will not be surprised to learn that we texted en route.  We shared our locations (the car I was in was 3 ½ hours ahead), what we were talking about (more on that later), and our plans upon arrival.  Wait, you say.  You are leaving out something important …whose car are you in?  With whom are you playing?

As you know, the Gatlinburg tournament is known for its team games.  I am pleased to announce that my team includes Doug and Susan Minder, and Kathy Woudstra.  With Doug driving and Susan navigating, we did not make one wrong turn!  I really enjoyed the drive—and since I am not a car person, this is really saying something. 

The 11 hour car talk ranged from a stinky favor Doug once did for his father-in-law to how to bid and play certain hands to the meaning of historical sites (is seems they have some kind of history).  We sang the Daniel Boone song, the tune being oddly reminiscent of The Beverly Hillbillies.  We researched the origin of common terms such as “going to hell in a handbasket” (related to beheadings during the French Revolution).  When the car finally grew quiet I texted Julie.  My group is fading, no one is talking, I told  her.  I’m asking questions, she replied, like, What was the worse job you ever had? “Okay,” I said to my group, “Let’s take turns asking questions.  I’ll start.  What was the worse job you ever had?”  That got us going again without any more lulls in the conversation.

Now it is Monday morning.  The Minders are off for a walk, Kathy is sleeping, and I am drinking coffee and looking forward to my first Gatlinburg knock-out!  Keep your fingers crossed and I’ll let you know how we do.

One More Difference

"I'll try not to aggravate you," I promised Dave.  He's an A player and this was our first time playing together.

"I don't get aggravated," he solemnly assured me.

"That's good," I replied.  We'll see, I thought. I can be pretty aggravating.

Thus started our partnership.  I proceeded to do some good things and some not so good things; Dave did some very good things.  One of the not so good things I did was defensive.  I was on lead and my partner had bid hearts.  I hadn't supported his bid since I only had 5 points, but I did have two hearts.  I led one.  Dummy came down and I calculated that declarer only had one heart, so when I got in again I led a different suit.

That may not sound particularly interesting to you, but I was a bit proud of myself.  It's not easy for me to keep the bidding in mind once play begins and to put that information together with the cards in play to figure out who has what.  In fact, I recalculated several times wondering if I should again lead a heart, but every way I looked at it the declarer had to be out.  I thought about leading a heart anyway to draw his trump, but in this case that didn't seem like an especially fruitful idea.  Even so, I had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

At the end of the hand I was relieved to see that declarer did, in fact, have no hearts left in his hand.  My partner was not as relieved.

"Do you still have hearts?" he asked me.

"Yes, one," I said and showed him.

"Why didn't you lead it?"

"Declarer was out, he would have ruffed," I said with confidence born of confirmation.

"You still should have led it."

"Even though declarer would have ruffed it?" I asked, bewildered.

"Yes.  Since you didn't support my hearts and didn't lead a heart a second time, I thought you were out and declarer had hearts.  I would have kept my clubs and thrown off the hearts if I had known declarer was out."

Wow, what a great lesson to learn.  It seemed obvious once Dave explained it, but I hadn't thought about it that way.  This was one more example of a difference between the thinking of an A player and a C player (but no longer this C player).

And as you would expect, Dave stayed calm and unaggravated throughout.

The Patient Died

Recently I was declarer in a particularly tricky contract.  I strategized, I finessed, I thought about where the king was (and was right), I counted cards, I set up a suit...I did it all.  At the end, I was down one.  I looked at what was left of the dummy and what the opponents held.

"Are those two spades good?" I asked my partner, horrified.

"Yes," Julie replied.

"I lost track," I apologized, hanging my head.

"But you played it brilliantly!" the opponent kindly said.

"How good could it be if I didn't make the contract?" I countered.

"Well, that happens.  But it was masterful the way you played it.  Really, it was perfect!"

I appreciated the comments, but it made me think of the old saying "The operation was a success but the patient died."  Later, Julie had a recommendation for me.

"If I'm not sure if something is good or not, and that's the only way to make the contract, I just play it," she suggested.

"That was the problem," I explained.  "I WAS sure that the spades were NOT good."

"Oh."  She laughed, I didn't.

Although this is not a perfect example of doing everything right and getting a bad board, since obviously I didn't do everything right, you get the picture.  Then there's the other side of the coin, when you do everything wrong and somehow it works.

I was recently in a 4 spade contract with a new partner.  When dummy came down I could see right away that it was going to be difficult.  I had a singleton ace of diamonds in my hand with several diamonds on the board but missing the king.  The opening lead took one entry out, leaving just the ace of trump as a way back to all of those beautiful diamonds.  Hmm, what to do?  I led the queen of diamonds towards my hand, my opponent covered with the king.  I played my ace and -- ta dah!--the diamonds were all set up.  I made the contract.

What's the problem, you ask?  Well, during a sit-out we watched John and Joanne bid and play the same board.  They reached the same contract after a wildly different bidding sequence, and made the contract without ever playing the diamonds. I commented on this, and Joanne had a little talk with me.

"Do you see why you should never cover the queen in this type of situation?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.  (I would have said "yes" even if I had meant "no".)

"If your opponent had held up, you would not have made it."

"I can see that now."

I won't even go into how we stumbled into the right contract (mostly because I don't remember), but bridge is definitely a game where you can do everything right and get a bad board, and do a lot wrong and come out on top.  Sometimes.

Sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells"

Dashing through the snow
Remembering what I read
All that I don't know
Ringing through my head
Four dollars I will pay
To get beat up again
What fun it is to count and play
I have to say Amen!

Let's play bridge, let's play bridge,
Let's play every day.
Oh! What fun it is to go and even play far away.
Let's play bridge, let's play bridge,
Let's play every day.
Oh! What fun it is to go and even play far away.

Turkey Trot

Today was a good day--I partnered with an A player.  I like playing with A players for a number of reasons, and contrary to what you cynics may think, the main reason is not because I do better when I play with them (although I do like that).  No, it's because I get to see how A players think when they bid, play, and defend.  It's just amazing.  And although I'm getting better at figuring things out, it is still nice to know for sure if we are in the right contract (usually) or if I could have made an extra trick (no, I was doomed to go down one).  I also like the feeling of security--I know my partner will tell me exactly what's in his hand during the auction, just like I know he'll lead the exact card I need on defense.

Today was the Turkey Trot, when C players (like me) draw the name of an A player (in this case, Bruce).  So I was not alone in this type of mixed partnership.  In fact, it was interesting to look around the room and not see any regular partners playing together. I have to say, the atmosphere seemed more congenial and calm than usual.  Hmm, what was that about?  

Of course the main objective when playing with a better player is to learn from the experience.  Here's one of the things I learned today:  South opened a diamond; I overcalled a spade.  My partner bid 2 diamonds, telling me he had spade support and at least 10 points.  South bid 3 diamonds.  I figured that since my partner only knew my range of points (8-15), that I should let him know that I had opening count.  I bid 3 spades.  Mistake.  I didn't know it at the time, but by bidding when I didn't have to, I was telling him that I had a bigger hand than I did.  He went to game and I went down one. Unlike A players, C players don't always tell their partners exactly what's in their hands, although we try.

I think we'll be having another Turkey Trot kind of day, maybe a Bunny Hop (or Bunny Bop if your partner isn't cooperating).  But what about the A players, you may be wondering.  What do they get out of this? Even though I hesitate to speak for them, I will anyway. 

A players have the chance to give back to the game by mentoring a less experienced player.  I could go on about this, but there are other benefits as well.  For example, while we all enjoy competition, the pressure is off during this particular game.  After all, no one expects even the best players to get a 70% game with a C player, so they can relax and enjoy.  They get to "show off" their expertise without anyone arguing with them (A players sometimes argue among themselves).  And, best of all (I think) would be that when something goes wrong, as it usually does, it's most likely not their fault!

So A players, what do you think?  Did you enjoy the Turkey Trot?

Grand Haven Tournament

I missed the first day of the tournament because I was teaching, and boy did I miss a lot.  There were rumors flying about marriages (all untrue, as far as I know), loud disagreements (no one got hurt), other sundry tidbits (I don't want to gossip), and, finally, some stuff about bridge.  Julie filled me in on most of this on the drive to Grand Haven Friday morning.  Funny how we used to go over bidding and bridge questions during these rides; now it seems we have other things to talk about.

When we arrived in Grand Haven, I subtly followed up on what I had learned (What?!?; I've got your back; Interesting!).  Then it was time to play.  We struggled through the first session, ending up with a 40% game.  But here's the interesting part:  We placed second in B!!  40% got us silver masterpoints!  We did better in the second session but didn't place at all.  Gotta love this game.

During the afternoon we had an interesting hand come up.  Unknown to me at the time, my bid posed a dilemma for my partner.  Tell us what you think she should have bid.

First, my perspective:  I had 10 high card points, 7 pretty good clubs and not much else, so I opened 3 clubs.  To my delight, everybody passed, I played and made it.  (A side note:  Our opponent got mad at her partner for his defense, so maybe I shouldn't have made it.  I'll have to look at the hand record.)

Now, Julie's perspective:  She also had 10 high card points.  Her cards included 6 really nice hearts (just missing the queen) and 2 clubs, one of which was an honor.  She knew we had nine clubs, obviously a good thing, but also knew it would be better to play the hand in a major--if we could.  She really wanted to bid 3 hearts, but what if I didn't have any?  Then we would end up with a minus score instead of a likely plus.  (It turns out I had queen, little of hearts.)  As you already know, she decided to pass.

Should Julie have passed my 3 clubs bid or put us in the superior contract of 3 hearts?  Do not look up this hand to see if 3 hearts makes before you answer!  I could do that myself, even though I haven't and I am kind of curious.  No, I want to know for future versions of this hand.  Should you switch your partner's opening preemptive bid from a minor to a major when you are going from a sure fit to an unknown fit?

Inquiring minds want to know.