October 4th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 8 Comments 
At most weddings, the bride is usually the uncontested star of the show. However, poor Chelsea Clinton had to settle for No. 3 (behind Hillary and Bill). Lucky me, I was only outshone by Charles H. Goren. However, mine was a historic gathering even if I played second fiddle at my nuptials to Norman in 1963. Charlie actually gave a beautiful speech which we savored on those old movie reels that will eventually turn up in my storage search.
If you knew Norman, he was extremely considerate and tried to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings. My poor father (both physically and literally) was presented with a list of 400 guests (of whom 325 accepted with gusto) but since he adored Norman, he took it all in his stride (once they revived him). Norman’s parents owned a large drugstore/pharmacy in a small community called Merchantville, NJ and it seemed that anyone who ever bought at least a candy bar was invited — plus Norman’s bridge partners, teammates, kibitzers and fans. You name them, they were there — although missing in travel were Philadelphians, Charlie and Peggy Solomon, whom I suspect in retrospect must have been vacationing. Just think: it could have been 327.
Wrong: it should have been 329. We were concerned about ‘no-shows’ Loy and Albert Morehead. Morehead was Allan Truscott’s predecessor as New York Times Bridge Columnist. We eventually learned Al had emergency oral surgery that morning that went awry and they were not able to reach us to cancel but it had a happy ending…
The other day I was leafing through my wedding album and discovered three photos worthy of Kinko’s glossy copy process. I contacted Linda Lee who has been doing such a phenomenal job attaching marvelous photos to her own blogs and she graciously agreed that upon receipt of the selected shots, she would insert them in this blog (since photography is one of my weak suits) and become my partner in crime.
Philadelphia was a hot bed of bridge in the early days — boasting of many world-famous natives. I understand more top bridge players (per capita) were born in the City of Brotherly Love than any other metropolitan area in the country. Besides Goren — there was B. J. Becker, Johnny Crawford, Norman Kay, Peter Pender, Arthur Robinson, Sidney Silodor, Helen Sobel Smith, Charlie Solomon, Sally Young, et al.) and with apologies to those I overlooked.
Let me try to give you a quick rundown of the three photos seen below and some of the highlights which I vividly recall almost half a century later. If you don’t recognize the faces, many of you will be familiar with a number of the names and hopefully will enjoy some of my tales out of school.
 Charles Goren and Co. Photo #1.
Center stage was Charles H. Goren, Mr. Bridge himself!!!! On his left sat Ethel Nathanson (the first Mrs. Benedict F. Gimbel). Incidentally, Ethel came from the Snellenburg clan and the marriage marked a merger of two celebrated Philly department store families. Also, her son was the famous Ted Nathanson, Director of TV News and Sports Shows. I knew Ethel, a frequently discussed student of both Victor Mitchell and Arthur Robinson, who could have collaborated on an incredible bridge best seller. I say ‘incredible’ because no one would believe the episodes they experienced with her.
I liked Ethel, but no doubt she was the proverbial piece of work. One day, while having lunch with her, I admired a gorgeous ‘rock’ she was sporting. It was a knockout but I went ballistic when she whispered curiously in my ear, “Oh, dear, the real one is in my safe. I make copies of all my jewelry but never wear the originals.” Haven’t figured that one out yet.
On her left was Peggy Rotzell, an aggressive, rather pushy decent woman player who always snared top fellas for the Mixed, but when Norman and I got engaged, we got the ground rules straight. On her left was Dr. Russ Storr seated next to his favorite partner, Olive Peterson. Olive was a respected player and teacher and worked closely with both Milton Work and Charlie Goren.
Next to Olive, you no doubt recognize Alvin Landy (with his wife Elaine). I must digress and tell you my UNfavorite Alvin Landy Story. While still newlyweds, I was struggling to attain the 300 point LM status. I was so paranoid about my fractionals getting lost — would you believe I sent them Registered Mail, RRR? Alvin was ACBL CEO at that time and the Landys joined us and the Solomons for dinner one weekend in Philly.
In the course of normal conversation quite casually someone (possibly Charlie) addressed Alvin, asking if it was true that the BOD was considering upping the LM requirements from 300 to 400 — at which point I almost gagged on my appetizer. I had 296 points and I was counting the days till I finally made the grade. It became obvious by my rare silence that I was appalled and suddenly everyone burst into laughter. It was all a pre-planned set up to send me into a tizzy and indeed it did! That was Norman’s sense of humor.
Back to the rest of the guests at the table. Somehow out of order was Olive’s husband, Pete Peterson; and the last pair on the right front side were Marie and Eddie Cohn. Eddie and Charlie were very close friends and often played together in their early days before Charlie made it big!
 Bobby Jordan and Co. Photo #2.
Most of you will recognize a close up version of a young Bob Jordan (holding hands with his wife Phyllis). I worked as a paralegal with Phyllis and, at Norman’s urging, introduced her to his recently widowed best friend, Bob, and they beat us to the altar by six months. On Bob’s left are Nettie and Fred Karpin. Fred was co-author of Norman’s Duplicate Bridge Book with Sidney Silodor, and noted also for achievements in other literary fields.
Seated to Fred’s left, Marion Stein Harmon and her bridegroom, Lenny. In fact, Marion, who lived in Detroit, had recently lost her husband of many years and Jordan sang the praises of the joys of marriage to bachelor Lenny. Before he knew what hit him, he was donning a wedding band.
Continuing along were friends of Norman’s, Aileen and John Lisberger and sitting directly in front of Norman (standing with me in the background) was Wanda Gabrilovitch alongside of her charming husband, Andy. Rounding out the group were Carole and Dick Moscotti. Actually, Carole was Norman’s former girlfriend, but I forgave her and we were close friends for many years until she divorced, married Jessel Rothfield and enjoyed many delightful, productive years in Australia.
 Arthur Robinson and Co. Photo #3.
Undoubtedly, the superstar at this table in the dark suit is a youthful Arthur Robinson with his wife, Harriett. On Arty’s left are Isabelle and Al Friedman, one of Norman’s Cavendish pinochle buddies. Al, a big fan of Norman’s, was often quoted. saying that “Norman is an even better pinochle player than bridge expert.” It was a tossup which he loved more.
Next to Al (with eyes half shut) was my first duplicate woman partner and my Matron of Honor, Helen Smith, no relation to THE Helen Sobel Smith, who hung in with me as a beginner and kept hammering away that Norman is a ‘keeper,’ hounding me .. “Don’t let THIS ONE get away!” as I was obsessed with the game only. As these photos bear witness, I was a good student and succumbed to her words of wisdom.
Seated on her left was Harlow Lewis, another popular Philadelphia expert; the other two couples were Norman’s ushers Merle Moskowitz and Gabby Coren (seated beside their respective wives Trudy and Lorraine). Gabby’s pride and joy was that he served as the matchmaker between Billy Eisenberg (whom he had played against in his travels to New York) and up-and-coming Philadelphia star Bobby Goldman, who formed a partnership with Billy and began performing for the rising Dallas Aces in the late sixties. (Somehow or other — my Bobby always gets into the act)!
I must conclude by confessing I gave a lot of thought to canning this blog with historic snapshots as I didn’t want to come across as a name dropper. But, after lengthy reconsideration, I opted to hang in because gazing upon several of these superstars, not normally sitting North/South or East/West was definitely newsworthy — especially at a shindig hosted forty-seven years ago with THE CHARLES H. GOREN as the featured attraction! Also, I wanted to quash the circulating rumors that I was never svelte with dark hair! So be it!
October 3rd, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 14 Comments
I just read (or admittedly angrily scanned) an outrageous blog on an associated site complaining about all the people who had problems getting into the U.S. for the world championship. Perhaps (since most people know well in advance of their expected attendance), it would not be unreasonable (in fact, in my eyes, mandatory) to seek advice how to assure that their papers were in order and acceptable. Maybe this should have been investigated prior also by those at the helm here in the States – suspecting that in these times of terrorism (not threats – but terrorism in living color), some would be refused admission without formal pre-arranged documentation.
After 911 and the dozens of other successful and foiled plots, I was proud to hear that the United States is so overprotective of its citizens, residents and visitors. To even suggest that no other world championships be held here is PREPOSTEROUS. What our government did (or didn’t do) was in the interests of the safety of all those are on our shores – which is their first and foremost responsibility.
September 19th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 1 Comment
THE 2010 BUFFETT CUP by Judy Kay-Wolff on September 12th, 2010 drew 20 comments to date. Because of my statement that it was refreshing to see an event made up of truly top expert class players, it evoked a series of back-and -forths about professionalism between “Mark” and my husband Bobby explaining how times changed (along with the administrators, the jurisdiction, those in command, the rules, the amendments to the requirements of the partnership obligations, etc.). Professionalism took on a new twist and for those of you who are interested in how it affected championship events, I suggest you read comments 15-20.
September 18th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 6 Comments
Back in July, I was inspired by an extremely clever and topically humorous set of plays on words by Michael O’Connor which were very impressive. We had exchanged emails as he enjoyed my poetic "kidding on the level" called Advice to My Female Partners and asked if he could print it on his side of the ocean. Of course, I was flattered.
At one time (back some thirty-five years ago while I was teaching Women’s Bridge at the Country Clubs in Philly), I always offered something unusual at the closing luncheon — either an amateur show or some type of bridge-related quiz or crossword puzzle which would make the gals don their thinking caps. I had told Michael about them — but never got around to posting anything.
As you’ve read, I have been plowing through old memorabilia for weeks and stumbled upon hundreds of hours of work to reorganize, re-box, sort, save or toss out. Apropos of Michael’s fabulous ‘definitions of famous terms in bridge,’ I discovered my own original (ancient) creations (which you can tell by some of the proper names used). So, if you are looking for a change of pace from squeezes and end plays, try these for size. I’ll list twenty of the forty. I am warning you — some are simple; most are difficult — and they are all common bridge terms. In retrospect, I can’t believe I came up with them, as I am not so sure if today I would produce so many of the answers. If you like challenges, try them. If not, just move on. Look for the answers on Tuesday (and by the way, I wouldn’t be shocked if some had more than one answer). Have fun (?).
1. Scrambled Twosome
2. Untimely Thrust
3. Fatal Opening
4. Impoverished Fortification
5. Brooks Brothers Choice
6. Frail Pairs
7. Synthetic Offers
8. A Midget’s Bat
9. Charlie/Charlie; McCarthy/McCarthy
10. Conclusive Covenant
11. Imaginary Rescue
12. Dumb Dwarf
13. Pike’s Peak/Death Valley
14. Evil Fracture
15. Folger Residence
16. Incomplete Denture
17. Ideal Enumeration
18. Cranky Bird
19. Pinnacle of Zero
20. Starched Royalty
September 12th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 23 Comments
According to Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia,
“The Buffett Cup is a bridge trophy which is awarded biennially in an event between teams from Europe and the United States.”
“The tournament is modeled on the Ryder Cup golf competition and is held in the week preceding the golf event at a nearby location. The competition was first held in 2006 and is named after its sponsor, American businessman Warren Buffett. Teams are selected by invitation and must contain at least two female players. The competition format is a mixture of team of four, pairs and individual sessions with point-a-board scoring throughout.”
The record, to date, stands even – with Europe winning in 2008 and the United States taking the honors in 2006. The Third Buffett Cup runs from this coming Monday through Thursday at the Miskin Manor Hotel in Cardiff, the capital of Wales.
The 2010 contestants will be:
EUROPE: Sabine Auken and Daniele von Arnim (Germany); Boye Brogeland and Erik Saelesminde (Norway); Giorgio Duboin an Antonio Sementa (Italy); Fulvio Fantoni and Claudio Nunes (Italy); Jason and Justin Hackett (England); Geir Helgemo and Tor Helness (Norway). Paul Hackett as nonplaying Captain.
UNITED STATES: Jill Levin and Jill Meyers; David Berkowitz and Alan Sontag; Bob Hamman and Zia Mahmood, Geoff Hampson and Fred Gitelman; Bobby Levin and Steve Weinstein; Jeff Meckstroth and Eric Rodwell. Donna Compton as nonplaying Captain.
This form of competition (sponsorless from a glance) is an exhilarating and refreshing change of pace to all other ultimate world bridge championships where money plays a major role. However, I have two questions and if anyone can answer with certainty, I would appreciate it:
1. WHICH INDIVIDUALS MADE THE FINAL DECISION AS TO WHAT PLAYERS/PARTNERSHIPS WOULD BE INVITED TO PARTICIPATE?; AND
2. ARE THERE ANY MONETARY REWARDS INVOLVED (PAYMENT FOR PLAYING, EXPENSES, PRIZE MONEY, etc.) OR JUST FOR THE DISTINGUISHED HONOR OF REPRESENTING ONE’S COUNTRY?
September 11th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 1 Comment
At first glance, it looks like a casual remark, but to me it means mountains more. NO PASSING FANCY was the title of a popular book written in 1977 by Sue Emery, Editor of he ACBL Bulletin for 24 years, a top flight regional tournament director and possibly the most popular person (male or female) employed by the League.
According to most who were privileged to know her, she had a unique array of attributes – besides being a good player, a writer of rare talent, a painstaking researcher and a fastidious analyst – her worldwide contact with bridge players qualified her as “encyclopedic” in her knowledge of bridge trivia! Quite an impressive list of credentials.
Coincidentally today, plowing through more books in my storeroom (for junking, saving or passing on to my Unit), I happened upon the red and white cover and recognized it immediately. It covers fifty years of bridge (1927-1977). If you don’t have it, buy it; if you can’t buy it, borrow it. It is really a bridge player’s delight.
As I glanced through the chapters, visions of the old-timers and happy occasions raced through my head, but one particular caption hit my eye that I want to share with you It was captioned, “The Origin Of Kibitzer by M. J. Greenebaum, and I quote:
Several months ago, Rabbi Newman of New York wrote an article in which he mentioned the fact that so many words of Jewish origin find their way into general American speech, referring particularly to the term “kibitzer.”
Whereupon Rabbi Freehof of Chicago wrote him to the following effect: “If it true that the green plover is a very inquisitive bird which likes to watch other birds building their nests, then the word ‘kibitzer’ is not of Jewish but of German origin, the German word for green plover being ‘kibitz.’ “ (See German Dictionaries).
Dr. Newman then took the matter up with the ornithologist at the Bronx Zoo who said, “It is quite true that the green plover is a very inquisitive bird and I assume that the word “kibitzer” virtually means ‘plover’ and is a German word referring to any inquisitive bird.”
So now you kibitzers know what you really are.
(Taken from the Contract Bridge Magazine, October, 1933)
However, Sue, in her inimitable way, added:
“The above article was perhaps the first to explore the origin of the bridge-related word ‘kibitz,’ whose etymology is now generally agreed. Note this entry from Funk & Wagnalls Standard College Dictionary (1968): kibitzer n. Informal. One who meddles in the affairs of others; especially a spectator who gives gratuitous advice to card players.”
You see how we are seen by the outside world! Seriously, if you are a bridge historian, you will just love reading No Passing Fancy!
September 8th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 12 Comments
As I continue to pillage through the stacks of mile high boxes in my storeroom, every now and then I spot aged ones worth saving. They are usually labeled Norman Kay, et al. When Norman and I first started going together, he escorted me to his parents’ house in Merchantville, New Jersey where his mother proudly took my hand and led me to an upstairs attic that was replete with dozens of black, horribly tarnished trophies of all sizes and shapes plus boxes of printed clippings celebrating all of Norman’s great bridge accomplishments. That was some 48 years ago — and nary a clipping, though quite yellow with age, has been discarded. Being an enthusiastic relative beginner, I was starry eyed until I realized the work that lay ahead for yours truly. It eventually required a couple cases of Wrights’s silver polish to get the trophies in presentable shape – at least enough to read the inscriptions.
In 1963 we got married and moved to a moderate sized apartment in a lovely Philadelphia Center City High Rise. I safely stowed Norman’s keepsakes in our three basement storage units until we moved into a suburban ranch structure with decent sized rooms. It was there I found time to eventually polish the glorious Reisingers, Spingolds, Vanderbilts, et al. and spent months sorting through the clippings beginning in the late forties, compiling numerous scrapbooks. Eventually I arranged to have a magnificent showcase designed for the trophies and serve also as bookshelves for the countless albums. The trophy room at our home here in Vegas is now shared by evidence of Norman’s and Bobby’s abounding bridge successes and I am sure their joint array lays claim close to a world record number of some of the more prestigious ones. I never did finish the clippings as they were sooooo voluminous and I did have other responsibilities and interests. And, lest we forget, I had joined the neighborhood group of addicts trying to amass those fascinating fractional points – in daily dribs and drabs.
With this convoluted background of medals and clippings in mind, yesterday, not shockingly, I came upon box after box of these tributes to Norman with hundreds of clippings, ACBL front page Bulletin photos, personal letters from close friends and unknown fans, postcards, tearful notes expressing condolences on Norman’s passing and so on. They sit there patiently, once rediscovered, so I can savor them in leisure when time allows to enjoy re-reading them. But make no mistake – they are known in today’s world as “keepers.”
Somewhere in the middle of the debris were two files — one marked Judy Kay — but the other – a much more enjoyable one — labeled Robin Kay. It really brought a smile to my lips.
Our daughter Robin had chosen UVA from where she graduated in the mid Eighties. One night she drove home for mid-break and happened upon my bridge-teaching partner, Joan Weinrott, sorting through papers strewn all over our kitchen table — preparing for our next lesson at the local Country Clubs where we taught. The subject was “Unusual NT.” With that, Robin chirped in, “Oh, Mom, I learned how to play bridge. Do you think we can drag Daddy out of his TV room and play with Aunt Joan for an hour. I’d really love it.” Norman always found it hard to refuse Robin and before you knew it, the four of us were dealing out the cards. That night in the privacy of our bedroom, Norman remarked, “Robin is very bright — but it’s amazing how these kids really believe that what they are playing is ‘BRIDGE.”
After graduation, Robin got a job in New York and Edgar offered her temporary ‘free’ lodging in his lovely brownstone’s fourth floor bedroom (where she camped out for four years as the price was right)! She spent her time socializing, working on the AMEX and both playing and teaching bridge (besides feeding Edgar’s cat when he was out of town). Luckily for her, she had fallen heir to some of her daddy’s bridge genes, and it became apparent she had a lot of natural ability and was in much demand. As I reported in an earlier blog, at Norman’s Hall of Fame Induction (coincidentally and fortunately held in our home town of Philadelphia in 1996 attended by local friends and family), he related a darling story. Said Norman proudly, “Robin was very active in the Greater New York Bridge Association (GNYBA) and had been working 24/7 — far too much for a young gal.” One day Robin telephoned Norman and said, “Dad, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Being a born optimist, Norman replied, “The Good News.” “Great,” she retorted. “I am no longer President of the GNYBA Unit!(Incidentally, at the age of 29, she was the youngest in its history). Norman, concerned she was burning the candle at both ends was so relieved, then indiscreetly asked, ” What is the Bad News?” never suspecting her reply ……… “I am now President of the District.”
…….. which all brings me to the reason for the blog (and please forgive me as I despise bragging parents): I came across the file referred to above which bore Robin’s name. Several were clippings from the columns of our late, dear friend, Alan Truscott. Since Robin has forsaken bridge (a confirmed ex-bridge player) and turned her interests toward poker, it was amusing and thrilling (though frustrating) to see some of Alan’s captions from The New York Times, the long standing Number One Recognized Bridge Column in the World!
October 17, 1993 (“Robin Kay and teammates reach the final of the Von Zedtwitz Team Championship”)
March 31, 1994 (“Like father, like daughter, Robin Kay displays family skill as a declarer”)
July 24, 1995 (“Four teams headed into the semifinals of the Von Zedtwitz Double Team Competition”)
August 21, 1995 (“Von Zedtwitz double knockout Championship narrows to a three-team final”)
January 6, 1996 (“Robin Kay, daughter of a famous father, takes two titles in a Manhattan Regional”)
As a confirmed non-poker player, I cannot help but display disappointment that someone with such inherent sensational genes would forsake bridge for poker. Allow me to take poetic license (and subject matter) from the Bard of Avon by crying out …. “Alas, poor Robin, she is no more.” How sad to lay aside such enormous natural ability and potential big time success that most people would kill for! But – what’s a mother to do?
(P.S. Fear not! Robin [though now residing in California, a hot bed of poker] is alive, perky and happy and is actually visiting Bobby and me this week here in Vegas as I write)!
September 6th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 14 Comments
Following up with Part II of “Tossing out the Trash” ……..
Below you will find Bobby Wolff’s straight-forward/take no prisoners response to a mistakenly self-proclaimed and unknowledgeable mis-interpreter of many passages of The Lone Wolff.
Dear Mr. _____,
Your response is appreciated by me (G-d knows why/JKW), in spite of the extreme negativity in which it is given. My comments reflect my beliefs and overall attitude to our wonderful game.
The incident in ______ where two of your best teams unfortunately played the same direction and reported the match a tie is one that has happened before many times, even though in almost every other instance the reports were truthful — "We sat the same direction as our teammates." The law regarding that is clear — both sides either get a 0 in Won-Lost or both get 0 Victory Points in a Victory Point contest. To say that not one of the 8+ players on the teams didn’t know that law is stretching the truth enormously, and even if they didn’t, why wouldn’t they report what really happened instead of reporting a tie.
My memory also tells me that either one or probably both (if they were playing each other in the 7th match) were in contention to at least place highly if not to win.
Jim Jacoby (and his lovely wife Judy, still alive and enjoying life) was one of my closest friends, in addition to being my first expert partner on the ACES. My report was 100% true as to what happened to Jim during those long ago years (1968-72). I am sure you remember me saying how well he played for an important time period in the development of the Aces, playing better than his famous father Ozzie, ever played. He then, after the breakup, went back to the playing circuit and mixed it up with a too-fast-lifestyle and swish, away went his bridge expertise.
I think it is proper now to mention that during the early days of Hitler’s Holocaust in Germany (which extended to most of Europe) one of his first public acts was a book burning where much of Germany’s significant and important literature were destroyed. It doesn’t take an intellectual to realize why that was done — "Destroy the truth and the future belongs to you". Books, at least to me, because of their unchangeable nature, need to report only the truth in order for them to be worth printing; otherwise they may as well be random political policies or probably more descriptive, comic strips.
Competitive sports such as football, basketball, baseball, hockey, tennis, and golf all have tons of statistics available enabling any devotee to get a good feeling about the difference in players and recently, with so much media coverage, their personal ethics. In bridge, the only statistics kept are events won, masterpoints earned and in some cases what the particular media writer tries to convey about various abilities. It leaves the door wide open for propaganda (another of any dictator’s stealthy specialties). Also worthy of note, until the public learned of Barry Bond’s possible steroid activity or Michael Vick’s "dog fighting" — both men were heroes. Should we blame the messenger for that?
One specific episode in the book reported what happened in London in January 1998 when Jeff and I played against each other during the MacAllan annual invitational tournament. He doubled the final contract after his passed partner studied a long time before passing the 2d time saying "I am going to do what I was always going to do." After the hand, after I looked nonplused, he asked me why and I retorted "I don’t think anyone else at this tournament would have doubled after their partner had studied the way his partner had". To me that was well worth reporting, especially since the cloud of suspicion has been so great on that famous pair in many possibly shady episodes.
As to Bob Hamman dumping me because of bidding disagreements, that is Hamman’s story — not mine –and lately it seems to be the widely accepted reason. While a small part of that is true, I think the major part was Meckwell’s wanting me to not be sniffing around while they went into their magic act. Before I leave this subject, there is little doubt in my mind that they are one of the best pairs in the world today and cheerfully have also cleaned up their disclosure to the opponents, making them a much more honest pair to play against. Shouldn’t the bridge world, at the very least, be treated to what my observing has seen through the years or should this book have been burned before it was released.
Congratulations, Mr. _______, on being on the______ International Team in ____ in ____ to compete for the World Open Team Championship. Without unduly antagonizing you, let me ask you — "Do you think _____ was doing the right thing to be sending you (perhaps you are overly modest and in actuality are a wonderful player, but assuming neither you nor your teammates are world class)? That is not what World Championships are about in any competition. If you were from Botswana and the event is the World Bridge Team Olympiad (every member country sends a team) and Botswana only has about 20 bridge players in their whole country, perhaps there would be a reason for it, but _____has proven it can compete against the best teams in the World — so why shouldn’t your administrators have the pride to make sure that their players have a chance to win the whole Megillah. I am happy that you thoroughly enjoyed it but what about the integrity of the game and the Championship itself? Do you feel right being there as a puppet player just for the thrill of being there? There is nothing wrong with getting a thrill, but what about the inept, probably political and obviously out-of-tune administrators who sent you? Please do not give me the excuse of not being able to have your best players because they couldn’t afford to go. If that is even remotely true, then _____ should not send anyone. ______ should mean more to you than that.
It is very doubtful that after reading this letter you will change a thought about my book or about me, but one day, perhaps after you die and go to heaven — you may think it through and understand how important this bridge chronicle is, if only to set the record straight.
The famous Italian Bridge Blue Team cheated their way to 14 World Championships and until this time (and after a World Bridge History to be released [allegedly/JKW] in Beijing later this year at the next World Championship) there has never been a proper disclosure of what happened? Many of the world’s best players have died, never having won one world championship because of their cheating. Norman Kay, the late husband of my current wonderful wife, Judy, was one of those. What kind of justice tells you that the Italian cheating should never have been revealed? It is also true that the Blue team had three of the best all time bridge players (Forquet, Belladonna, and Garozzo) but the other players were about the same as everyone encounters in every bridge club in North America, certainly not world class. Just relating this makes me want to grieve for Eric Murray and Sami Kehela two of the finest players and gentlemen to ever grace our game.
Again it pains me for you to feel as you do. My only wish is that you would change your thinking a couple of notches and realize that every bridge player in the World is entitled to know the truth. Perhaps you think that I have over emphasized or even downright lied about many events. If so, all I can do is hope for you to "Seek the Truth and the Truth will make ye free".
Sincerely,
Bobby Wolff
September 5th, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 2 Comments
So many of us have trouble parting with old memorabilia, clippings, letters, photos, condolence notes, personal tributes, creative invitations, column hands, WBF and NABC bulletins, monthly issues, etc. — and I am one of those culprits who must plead guilty. Having owned trotters and pacers with my late husband Norman and operating a wholesale baseball card business for twenty years each, I have amassed a ton of unique sentimental collectibles (though not necessarily of any great monetary value). Besides, our trophy room houses momentous bridge reminders of both Bobby’s and Norman’s combined plaques, trophies and priceless other commendations. So, what is one to do with a an over-cluttered garage warehouse packed to the ceiling with dozens of boxes – including, among other things, cartons of cyberspace copies of emails on every imaginable subject — as Bobby says “from A to Izzard (izzard being the dialectic reference to the letter Z.)” You get the picture. It was really a sight for sore eyes – but that is going to change.
The first decision was to discriminate between the ‘worth saving’ and the ‘trash.’ It wasn’t as hard as anticipated (but I started only this morning and have made a miniscule dent). The first things I rummaged through were boxes of Super Bowl Party Decorations (saved and accumulated from Norman’s and my last four years in Philly) where we entertained and hosted up to seventy people with the customary casino propositions: “who scored first?” “who got the first penalty?,” “which team scored the first field goal?” etc .” We did have one fun-packed SB Party here in LV but I have neither the strength nor desire to repeat the ordeal, so I am awaiting a return call from a friend who has been throwing them here in Vegas — hoping 2011 (and my complimentary decorations offer) will elicit a positive response.
I made a painstaking decision to ‘get rid’ of the nonsensical collectibles I had been saving (but being an old legal secretary and the daughter of a lawyer, it is difficult to part with anything for fear of needing to produce it forty years later). But today I am proud to say I embarked upon my Project of Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish Campaign.
The first several boxes were an outstanding collection of email excretions concerning my abominable AWMW by an inept AC (based on an even worse case scenario where my opponents got away with homicide) and eventually Bobby appeared before some committee sixteen months later who voted to rescind the AWMW but not before sending my blood pressure skyrocketing — never to return to earth. However, I know I am not the only one who innocently suffered at the hands of some unqualified knuckleheads and I won’t be the last!
Now on to the actual inspiration (if you can call it that) for this blog (an ugly belligerent letter found isolated in one of the cartons), Following the publishing of The Lone Wolff, we received hundreds of calls, notes, letters and emails from ecstatic readers (plus handshakes, hugs, kisses and backslaps at tournaments) in appreciation for Bobby’s much called-for candor for unleashing so many of the bridge skeletons. In addition, the reviews from the columnists were astoundingly positive — except for one standout nit-picker who shall remain nameless. (You know there’s always one in every crowd).
Before copying and pasting this infamous email sent to Bobby two and a half years ago, out of the goodness of my heart, I was compelled to omit the writer’s name, country and other give-away references. However, when I checked with one of his countrymen, this was the reply:
“____ ______ is himself an angry embittered old man. He is a retired lawyer and probably one of the most disliked people in the ____________ bridge community.” (Not a great shock!). Incidentally, the complainant doesn’t believe in the use of capital letters, paragraphs or Spell Check.
It is a DOOSY, I warn you. So – with tongue in cheek — here goes:
dear mr wolff,
i recently read with great anticipation the lone wolff, expecting to be enlightened & enriched about many of the behind the scenes aspects of the bridge world of which many of us are not aware.
instead, regretably i was subjected to the ramblings of a bitter & obviously very angry old man who had so many negative things to report about so many people.
some of this negativity was in no way even related to the supposed spirit of the book. why you would shed criticism on the bridge abilities of your former deceased friend jim jacoby or the very famous charles goren. this
accomplishes nothing other than to portray you as a childish gossip. are you really trying to plant the seed that meckwell cheat or that hamman dumped you because of a few bidding misunderstandings? based on the way you portrayed yourself in the book it is a wonder that the nickell team coped with you as long as they did.
you may be surprised to know that there are so many of us who are ethical & contribute to the game only for its joy & not for personal gain or prestige. you are not its only saviour although it might be difficult to convince you otherwise.
you are particularly critical of _____s. i do not know if it is because of a ruling given by a _____ or because the inflammatory email originated in ______or if it is just general ignorance about who we are.
it would however be most helpful if, when reporting, you got your facts straight.
i was conduct & ethics chairman of unit ___ in the late _____s & had direct contact with you over an incident involving a regional swiss where 2 of our very best teams squared off in the 7th match when both were totally out of the event. they inadvertently sat in the same direction & out of ignorance reported the result as a tie. there was no incentive of master points or financial gain. after a long investigation i felt that the apology recieved was appropriate. this was discussed at great length with ________ & yourself & you both agreed with me. yet in your book you accuse the ________s of ulterior motives. the teams in question had some of our very best–____________ (eight names).
for this misrepresentation, you owe the ________s an apology.
you on a number of occasions criticize the quality of the teams represented by _____internationally. we are a much smaller country whose teams are not sponsored & whose players are for the most part not professional. yet we go through a gruelling & lengthy process to choose our international teams. i was fortunate enough to be on the open team that went to______ in ____. i consider myself a competent player but certainly not in your category & certainly not world class on any regular basis. the thrill of being there will never be forgotten by any of us & the ability & opportunity of any player to achieve this is one of the virtues that distinguishes bridge. from so many other games. i simply shall not allow you to belittle _____’s international accomplishments.
your book is totally silent on this issue. sometimes bridge appears to be your own personal game. we do not have a nickell or cayne or brackman to sponsor us.
for a moment i considered airing this letter publicly in the bulletin or bridge world etc but on reflection & at this late stage in life i do not wish to resort to your level of childish & immature behaviour.
yours sincerely,
____ ______
Tomorrow, I will follow up with Bobby’s magnificent teeth-clenching, self-restrained response — manifested by undeserved civililty. JKW
September 1st, 2010 ~ Judy Kay-Wolff ~ 25 Comments
With the passing of Harry Ross in Orlando, Florida on August 24th, 2010 (five days before his 82nd birthday), he left behind his adorable, vivacious wife, Susi Katz Ross — together with an incredible tale of trepidation, alarm, heroism, determination, frustration, love — and perhaps traces of karma.
Though many of us take so much of our lives for granted — beginning with our birth, childhood, rearing, schooling and all the normal experiences (including the many trials and tribulations associated with the bridge world), the individual sagas of Susi and Harry are beyond your wildest imagination. The many stories of their tremendous successes at the bridge table cannot hold a candle to their own individual personal struggles for survival.
They were born in the same city. What’s so unusual about that? Sounds rather mundane, until you learn the City was Vienna, Austria. Harry was welcomed into the world in 1928 and Susi eight years later in 1936. By the time Harry was ten, Hitler was on the rise and Austria was one of his first targets. Because of his astute parents, Harry left the city via the "Kindertransport" (a method where Jewish children were entrusted to sympathetic strangers to escape from Vienna, with no certainty for the parents they would ever see their children again). Harry was on the very last Kindertransport to leave the city bound for England where the lucky escapees would be house fed and taught English. In fact, the kids were treated so royally, they thought they were on vacation. He spent two years in Great Britain and was fortunate enough to have loving relatives in San Diego who agreed to raise him. Eventually, Harry (an only child) was reunited with his parents — when in 1956 he was able to afford to send for them and the family finally came together.
Susi was only two years old when the Nazis came to Vienna. Her father, a furrier, went to Belgium as an interim step to get Susi and her mother out of Vienna, setting his sights on America. It took two years before he could (believe it or not) bribe the Underground enough times to get his wife and daughter out of Austria heading for Belgium and the ultimate goal — a ship heading for America. Susi recalled being carried papoose style on her mother’s back through a dark tunnel but the light woke her up, causing her to cry and the border patrol (the Gestapo) were alerted and all were turned back. After three failed attempts by Susi (she was a pistol even then), the Underground made other arrangements for her to cross the border. She was transported on a train by a sympathetic non-Jewish woman whom her mother had prevailed upon to pass her off as her own – with no assurance they would ever cross paths again. However, like Harry, it had a happy ending and Susi’s family arrived in America in February of 1940.
Sadly Susi’s ordeal was not quite over after she reached freedom’s shores. She had been taken desperately ill on the ship, diagnosed as scarlet fever, burning up with an unbelievably high temperature and whisked away by ambulance to a nearby hospital as soon as she arrived at her aunt and uncle’s 6th floor walkup. However, when she recovered and was released, they found their suitcases on the sidewalk as her family did not want their children contaminated. As Susi added, "Understandable, but hard on your first day in America."
These are the stories you read about in books, watch on DVDs or see on the big screen — but this is a true, heartwarming story of staunch, heroic parents who knew no bounds for doing what had to be done to protect and save the lives of their children. That ended some sixty years ago when Harry and Susi were safely harbored on American soil.
Since their respective migrations to America, there was much water under the dam. Failed marriages for both played major parts in their histories — but when they came face to face in Reno in 1998, something clicked. Susi had been divorced for twelve years and loved single life — enjoying her passionate drive for bridge. They played a lot successfully together, Susi traveling up to Washington State and Harry flying down to Florida. Meanwhile — a bit old to be boyfriend and girlfriend (although obviously in love).
Susi and I have been exchanging emails for the last six weeks since the severity of Harry’s sickness was known and the other day, I asked her — "when did you get married?" "Funny story, " she belted. "Harry met my mother and she loved him." [And who didn’t? JKW]. "So after a while, knowing I didn’t want to ever get married again, my mother asked him .. now that you are so close to Susi, how should I introduce you to my friends since you aren’t married?"
The next week, Susi added, "Harry asked me to marry him and I accepted." He was very convincing and like he said so many times before, we were a ‘fit’!"
A sad ending to a short marriage but a very beautiful and deep love story.
Our hearts go out to Susi who was a real trouper through these last several weeks (knowing the end was so near — but taking one step at a time and having Harry savor and enjoy each of his remaining days and doing what he loved most – playing bridge and winning). Harry is now at peace and Susi’s cherished memories, unrivaled happiness and joys of her ten years with Harry will afford her much comfort and pleasure in the sunset of her life.
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