Maine bridge

Occasionally, Kim and I are able to attend one of the Maine sectionals. For those of you who never play bridge far from a metropolitan area, you should give this kind of thing a try. The players are invariably friendly and over the years we have come to know many of them. The food is good and people are just, well, nice. And there's always a big welcome from Horace and Sonya who put on the tournaments. This weekend's tournament was in Bangor, about an hour's drive from Kim's mother's house.

This occasion was saddened by last week's death at 88 of Kim's aunt Helen, formerly a regular bridge player who sometimes played in the sectionals but mostly played in the non-sanctioned club game in Fairfield. Helen was more of a poker player than bridge player, though. She loved to go to Las Vegas whenever she got the chance, which was quite often. Invariably at these Maine tournaments, several people would ask after Aunt Helen when she wasn't there. She was a lot of fun to be around and we'll miss her a lot.

On Saturday, the cards were very much with us. It helps to be in control of the auction on a lot of hands. And, in particular, there were many opportunities for slam bidding in our direction and, because we are fairly regular partners and play quite a lot of gadgets, we usually do well in such circumstances. Of the 53 boards we played, we bid six slams and one was bid against us. We also missed a lay-down 6♠ on 23 hcp, but so did everyone else. It's true that one of our slams (6♦) didn't fare so well (down 2 for -100) but, as it turned out, 5♥ was always making the other way so we ended up with almost a top board. I will return to this board later.

Kim was also a demon, nay ruthless, defender, with the result that in the afternoon we went plus on 19 of 27 boards ending up with a personal best score of 74%.

Here's a slam from the evening session where our agreements were severely put to the test and, fortunately, were up to snuff.

Kim opened 1♦ as dealer (board one – none vulnerable) and RHO bid 1♠. My hand: ♠94 ♥J5 ♦AJT52 ♣KJ85. Although I dislike making a cue bid with two losers in the enemy suit, I chose to bid 2♠. LHO now bid 3♠. Kim bid 4♣ which, since she was going past 3♦ (our guaranteed contract in this auction) showed extras and, since it also bypassed 3NT (which I might have been able to call from my side if she had doubled), suggested at least a healthy interest in a slam. With nothing obvious to cue-bid, I had to mark time with a 4♦ call. Admittedly, I was minimum for my bidding so far, but my hand had improved significantly with the double fit and I had little wastage (the ♥J). 4♦ was forcing of course, because Kim would not suggest playing in slam and then pass in a part-score bid. I considered 5♣ but I try to make it a rule never to cue-bid a king if I'm not going to be the declarer – it's much too easy for LHO to double for a club lead, holding AQ or something else good in clubs.

Kim now made the key call of the auction: 4NT. I admit that it took me quite a little while to interpret this, although we've discussed it many times in the past. Since 4♥ would have been asking for key-cards (we play "Kickback"), 4NT now does duty as showing a heart control. Knowing Kim as well as I do, she couldn't possibly be still thinking about slam if she didn't have both clubs and spades controlled. But she still didn't have quite enough to be sure twelve tricks would be there (indeed, slam can't make in our other nine-card fit, clubs). So, with my surfeit of working cards, I was able to confidently bid 6♦. Twelve tricks were easy on any lead, but we were the only pair of 13 to bid the slam. Kim's hand: ♠7 ♥A92 ♦KQ43 ♣AQ732. Note that our opponents could have bid a quasi-profitable sacrifice in 6♠ for a loss of 500 instead of 920. But in that field, they'd have scored the same zero.

Here's an amusing auction from the evening session: 4♣¹ p 4♦² p 4♠³ p 4NT⁴ p 5♦⁵ p 6NT all pass. (1) "Namyats" showing a good hand with eight or more hearts (could be seven if solid) with typically an ace or a couple of kings on the side; (2) I think we probably have a slam; (3) I have the ace of spades; (4) how many key cards (for hearts) do you have altogether? (5) three. 6NT made exactly (on any lead) for a top shared with one other pair. Why do I think it amusing? Despite us having 11 hearts between us, neither of us ever put a heart bid on the table.

I think our only mix-up of the day was the slam that went down but which turned out to be an excellent sacrifice (mentioned above). With nobody vulnerable, I dealt myself ♠AT7 ♥4 ♦KJ873 ♣QJ63, and opened 1♦. LHO overcalled 2♥. Partner bid 3♥ and RHO bid 4♥. Since 3♥ took us past 3♦, this was clearly game forcing. Whether or not it was forcing all the way to five of a minor is not entirely clear. First, let's think about the calls that partner did not make: double which, if followed by a new suit, would be game-forcing; 2♠ which would be non-forcing (as would 3♣); 3♦ (simply competitive); 3♠ or 4♣ which would be fit-showing jumps showing a good fit with a good suit; 4♥ which would be a splinter raise of diamonds.

As with most cue-bids, there are several possible meanings for 3♥:

• Partner, please bid 3NT if you have the hearts well stopped;
• I have a diamond fit and am willing to play 4♦ opposite a flat minimum;
• I have a very strong hand and right now, I'm not quite sure where we should end up so please tell me more about your hand.

After the 4♥ bid on my right, I reasoned that we were now forced to play at least at the five-level. Therefore, I felt that an immediate bid of 5♣ would show the weakest possible hand, offering clubs as a second place to play and fulfilling the third interpretation of the 3♥ call. That is therefore what I bid. 

Kim assumed that this meant I had extras (I could have passed) and so bid 6♦. No double was forthcoming (we had confidently bid this with no suggestion of sacrificing). The ♥K was led and dummy turned out to be ♠QJ3 ♥J ♦A6542 ♣KT74. After winning the first trick, LHO switched to a spade. But diamonds were 3-0 offside and I still had to lose a club for -100. As mentioned above, the opponents could make 5♥ (six if a club isn't led) and our blunder actually earned us 7 matchpoints out of 8. 

So, what's the proper treatment? I'm not sure. But I'm coming around to Kim's way of thinking for the following reasons:

• she might have wanted to play 4♠ all along but didn't want to jump straight to 4♠ because that would tend to shut out the possibility of a spade slam – still, I'm not sure about this because double followed by a spade bid would have had a similar meaning albeit perhaps with fewer spades;
• she might have wanted to bid 4NT which, I think, would be a slam try with a heart stopper all along (5NT would be pick-a-slam).

I therefore invite your comments on this subject of bids by the partner of a cue-bidder. 

However, on a day when the bridge gods are with you and you can do no wrong, even a mixup like this one can turn out to be rosy!

R.I.P. Norbert

I don't get to play very often with my favorite partner, Kim. For some reason we don't always play our best together. Not because we argue at the table or anything like that, but there is something indefinable which seems to get in the way. I know other married couples have similar issues. Still, we each have a reasonable idea of how to play bridge and we often do well on a team, playing at different tables.

So, it was particularly satisfying to have a good game together in Bangor, ME on Saturday. We like to combine some family time with bridge and we always enjoy the Maine sectionals. They have great snacks, and the other players are invariably friendly and pleasant to play against. The games are run by Horace and Sonya and they do an absolutely fantastic job.

Our results up there vary but we always have fun. On this occasion, there were two sections of 11 tables (one section actually had 12 tables in the afternoon). We managed to go "North of 60" in both sessions, each time winning our "section". That was good for 2nd overall behind the perennial winners, Dick and Dottie. We were just slightly over a board adrift which could so easily have been made up. For example, we managed to start the day with only 1 matchpoint out of 16 on the first two boards: on the second of these, we were defending 3♥X and my hand was ♠J8 ♥Q543 ♦96542 ♣A7. Unfortunately, I don't recall the auction for sure, but I think it went something like this, starting with my RHO: 1♣ p 1♦ 1♠; X p 2♦ 2♠; p p 3♥ p; p X. After the ♥J lead, declarer won in hand with the K and led a small diamond to dummy's ♠T752 ♥A76 ♦AK ♣T962. Partner ruffed this with the deuce and led the ♣K. This is where I fell from grace. What would you do? Well, if you do any thinking at all you'll overtake with the Ace and shoot back a spade for +200 and 7/8 matchpoints (we might even get 500 but it wouldn't change the score). I played low, declarer ruffed the next club and then was able to pitch all of dummy's spades on good diamonds while I was forced to follow suit: -730.

But, we have really taken to heart the advice, dispensed by all the experts, on recovering from adversity: get over it and forget it. Unfortunately, in the early days of playing together I was sometimes replaced at the table by my sinister alter ego, "Norbert". On suffering a bad board, I would take on an expression "like my dog had died" and generally make my partner feel miserable. But several years ago, Norbert showed signs of ailing.

An example will be illustrative. Kim and I were playing at the Augusta sectional about three years ago. The afternoon session was going fairly well until we reached Dick and Dottie's table. On one hand they ended up in 6♥ which I doubled after Kim had made a very unusual (but incredibly effective) notrump overcall of 4NT (immediately over the opening bid). When 6♥ came around to me, I felt that the suits were not breaking favorably (and I was very short in partner's suits) so I doubled despite having no high cards at all. Exactly what I was trying to achieve is unclear. +50 would likely be a top on this hand. Anyway, partner laid down the ♦A and it didn't matter whether she continued diamonds, switched to a club or played a trump. All roads led to down at least one. Well, not quite all. Unfortunately, Kim inferred, very reasonably, that my double actually showed some values and reasoned that those values must be in spades. The resulting spade switch caused us to go from an 8 on the board to a zero. If ever there was a hand that might invoke bitter feuding it was this one. But, the actual arguing was all by our opponents. We stepped away to await the next round and didn't say a word. That hand really was the turning point (and the beginning of Norbert's end). We went on to win the event.

Finally, I think that this week we can safely declare Norbert's demise to be final and irrevocable. And not a moment too soon, I might add. Rest in peace.