Winter Solace

It was a good news/bad news kind of day today at the Bridge Center. Well, I take that back...it was actually a good news/bad news/bad news day.

The good news is the Maya were wrong - the world didn't end as their calendar had predicted. It turns out the reason the Mayan calendar ended on December 21 is simply because they ran out of paper. Naturally the global population made much more of it than was warranted, as they usually do.

The bad news is a different story. Bad news #1 - my bridge partner and I came in last today and it mostly had to do with a math skill I do not possess called subtraction. What is it about 13 minus 8 that is so complicated? Twice I miscounted trump.

Bad news #2 is a little sadder. Having missed a bit of bridge lately, I wasn't exactly sure what the Christmas party schedule was this year. But it being four days before Christmas, I assumed there would be some gaiety and good cheer today.

So driving over to the Bridge Center on this cold and blustery winter's day - the roads thick with ice and the winds rattling my car - I dreamed of the food table filled with cake and pie and maybe ham. I danced and sang my way through the door and what did I see when I entered? Only an empty deviled egg container. No feast. No merrymaking. Just tupperware. I guess the party was held on Monday.

So I missed the Christmas party - the cake, the pie, the ham - and we were dead last in the game. But at least there will be a tomorrow.

2 over 1 - cliff hanger resolution

When spring was in full bloom, the fearless four walked out of class ready to dominate the bridge table with one more tool in the old toolbox - 2 over 1. I almost looked with disdain upon those less equipped as the flurry of games began again and classes were now behind us.

We got back into the routine of playing at the usual places - the Bridge Center, Woodstock and friend's houses - and Cindy and I would say before each game, and I mean EACH game, "Ok, remember to play 2 over 1." Ok! 

Weeks went by. Spring turned to summer and summer fall - 2 over 1 never showed itself. Fall was on the verge of winter and... still...nothing. We were Vladimir and Estragon waiting for Godot. 

Then one day, when the frost was on the pumpkin, we played a hand that made 6 hearts and we only bid 2,  Cindy said, "I bid 2 diamonds over your heart opening." I answered dully, "So." "That was 2 over 1!!" She said excitedly. I was dumbfounded. I'd not only forgotten about the convention, I didn't even recognize it when it was right in front of me.

Then the following week, Cindy opened a spade and I responded 2 diamonds, my heart racing but my exterior cool and calm. She passed. We made 4. It was Cindy's turn for dumbfoundedness. It went on like this for weeks until I had had enough. 

Now what I'm about to tell you is not only shameful, but inexcusable. And it is all true:

We are at Woodstock. I take my hand out of the tray. I count my points - 13. Cindy opens a spade and I have five hearts. My interior dialog: "OMG! Here it is. We are NOT going to miss this." I reach into the bidding box and with a flourish so dramatic I could have been on stage at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, I lay down the 2 hearts bidding card. She doesn't pass! She rebids her spades! We get to slam! SHE GOT IT! WE DID IT.  It was amazing. It was spectacular. It was... so illegal.

Would Cindy have figured it out without my attention drawing gesture? Maybe. Did I think I this was inappropriate? Not at the time, but was I at a point so desperate I would have tried anything? Apparently, but as I said earlier, it was inexcusable.

So 2 over 1 and I are not friends. It reduced me to the lowest common denominator (see, I was right - fractions were involved) and made me ashamed of myself. And I regret the day we met.

2 over 1 - is not fun

Late last year with the new year ahead of us and visions of many winning bridge games dancing in our heads, Cindy, Joan, Barb and I took a class called 2 over 1. At first I thought is had something to do with fractions and wanted no part of it. Then I was told, "Oh no - it's a very important game forcing bid. It will really help you get to the best game contract and explore slam possibilities." Well, I thought, who doesn't want to explore slam possibilities once in awhile??

So for eight intense weeks we went to class, took notes and studied. We learned: when 2/1 applies (not very often) and when it doesn't (more times than when it does); the advantages of 2/1 (not very many); 1 no trump forcing (messes up all you ever knew about a 1 no trump response); opener's rebid (too many to remember); responder's rebid (ditto); control showing bids (now it's definitely time to get out the gin bottle); the principal of fast arrival (sounds like some sort of sexual problem to me).

We duly completed the class and were sent out into the world. We were told we were ready- that everyone is playing this way, that more and more people convert every day and it would vastly improve our game.

Were they right? Were we ready to go out into that jungle and perhaps explore slam possibilities? Were we going to show them all what we were made of and take our game to the next level???

You'll never believe it when I tell you what happened...

To be continued...