WELCOME TO MARK BLUMENTHAL, one of our newest bloggers

Forgive me for double dipping on the site today, but I wanted to introduce my old friend whom I first met in Philadelphia in the sixties, the great former Dallas Ace, who has a wealth of stories you will be enjoying. His latest blog, appearing at http://markblumenthal.bridgeblogging.com inspired what you are about to read.

For those of you who are old enough to remember Maurice Chevalier, I am compelled to steal his famous nostalgic song line … “I Remember It Well.”     Mark and I share a wealth of old Philadelphia Stories as so many colorful characters graced our local scene.   It was not uncommon for the top players to make frequent appearances at the daily duplicates.  They were visible at the Sectionals and Regionals and it was very exciting for us little people to rub shoulders with the big boys who were always warm and gracious and never too busy to answer a bridge question.

For my money, Bobby Jordan was the best bridge raconteur of his day.   I can remember countless times after a session at an ‘away tournament’ when we would retire to someone’s room for snacks and drinks while Bobby would willingly hold the audience captive for hours — recanting one titillating story after another.   Sometimes it was three a.m. before we found ourselves wandering back to our rooms — still laughing!   His repertoire seemed endless!  

Here is one of my favorites ….

Bobby (a fun-loving prankster at heart with a charming personality and enormous sense of humor) was playing in some innocuous Friday evening one session event at a local tournament.   His first opponents were a rather ordinary looking couple but as they approached the table it was apparent the wife was noticeably nervous probably because of her counterpart’s aggressive mannerisms and ferocious demeanor.   Bobby’s suspicions were confirmed on the first hand when the woman, faced with a difficult bidding decision, guessed wrong and her judgment resulted in a zero.   The husband’s condemnation of her bidding was relentless as he continued to scream, “All the way down from York, Pennsylvania, we discussed this sequence …” and the tirade never abated.  

When the round was finished (while the irate husband was still chewing out his wife), Bobby devilishly placed the same board on top (reversing directions so they had each other’s hands for the second go-round) and goaded the distracted pair into thinking they had not completed the round.   As suspected, the auction was identical and soon as the embarrassed husband realized what Bobby had done, he jumped from his chair and made a bee-line for the restroom.   However, Bobby who was a firm believer in tit-for-tat, followed the man and conveniently stationed himself at the adjacent urinal, reminding his red-faced opponent of his earlier refrain … “All the way down from York, Pennsylvania ……!”   It has to be over forty years since I first heard the story — but I can envision Bobby’s grin and his chuckling words still echo in my ears!