TALES FROM THE BRIDGE CRYPT (No. 1)

September 18th, 2008  ~  Judy Kay-Wolff  ~  4 Comments 

Bridge is a serious and difficult game to master. In order to succeed at any level, it demands our attention, energy and focus. Many will admit it has totally consumed them – to the exclusion of all else. It is an addictive hobby but a bit too late for many of us — as it has become a way of life.  I reflect upon more than five decades participating in the ‘circus‘ (my mom’s not-so-unrealistic term for the bridge world– as it seemed I was on the road every week). She wanted me to get a ‘real life’ but that was not in the cards. Perhaps to those on the outside looking in – that is how our hobby appears – but I wouldn’t trade my bridge experiences or friendships for all the tea in China (coincidentally, the site of this year’s WBF championship).

I remember the first (and only) time I met Helen Sobel.  When she graciously introduced herself and asked my name, I became awestruck and froze in my tracks. It wasn’t like she gave me a bridge problem – she merely wanted to know my name! It took a minute to recoup my composure, come up with the answer and recover enough to carry on a rational conversation with her until Norman scooped me up for game time. Bobby continues to recognize her as the greatest woman player of all time (a somewhat Chauvinistic classification – but quite a compliment as he is a tough judge of talent). In my travels with Norman to the Nationals and World Championships, I met and became close friends with many of the ‘idols’ of my earlier years. (Of course, Bobby Wolff never spoke to me or even acknowledged my existence for four decades – but if you read The Lone Wolff – you know that bizarre story).

My first tale from the bridge crypt is about Stoney (identified in the official Bridge Encyclopedia as Hall of Famer Tobias Stone – partner of the late Alvin Roth and co-inventor of The Roth-Stone bidding system popularized in the fifties and sixties).  Norman’s three-year partnership with the celebrated international player, Sidney Silodor ended with his sudden death in August of 1963. He had developed not only a great partnership with Sidney but a close friendship and his grief thwarted his moving on immediately. The following year, Norman and his former teammate Stoney decided to give it a try. As I write this, Stoney, who migrated from New York to Vegas many years ago, is slowing down at 87 – but very much alive and quite sharp! Bobby would never challenge his knowledge of sporting event statistics and I dare say he is a cinema buff with an amazing recall faculty for old movies and screen stars.

But – back to the impending Kay/Stone partnership. They decided to give it a whirl, compromising their estranged bidding systems, and Stony offered to come to Philadelphia for a practice session. Bobby Jordan and Arthur Robinson agreed to play set against them while they tried to launch this untried partnership. The Cavendish Club (then in the old Drake Hotel) was the setting, and after picking Stoney up at 30^th Street Station one Sunday morning, we motored directly to the Club to find about thirty kibitzers waiting for the show to begin. Of course, Stoney, being a great raconteur and accustomed to center stage, was flattered to have such a spontaneous welcoming committee. The kibitzers hung on every bid and play, making many comments (the majority being frivolous, irrelevant and inane) when Stoney abruptly arose from his chair and with a serious face asked, “Do any of you people play bridge?” Norman paled with embarrassment and the silence was deafening until Stoney smiled and everyone realized that was Stoney’s brand of humor.

My other Stoney story occurred at a NY Regional. Trying to acclimate himself to a new system with Norman, Stoney labored long and hard over a bidding dilemma although the round had been called. The players at the next table were impatient to retrieve the board from Stoney and after many unsuccessful attempts to speed him up, threatened to call the director. Stoney does not suffer fools gladly or get intimidated easily and when a youngster appeared at his table hovering over him, he assumed he was the caddy, trying to hurry him along. Stoney’s trend of thought had been interrupted and was annoyed at being monitored. Finally, Stoney growled, “Kid, get lost or go find the director.” The lad turned to him and with a resonant voice which echoed throughout the room, screamed “I AM THE DIRECTOR.” It happened to be a youngish Alan Messer, former 1960 Men’s Team National Champion who had pioneered the recording system for the Greater NY Bridge Association and served as a tennis umpire at major professional tournaments. Stoney was ‘messing’ with the wrong person.

Stay tuned.

CHANGING TIMES ….

September 14th, 2008  ~  Judy Kay-Wolff  ~  5 Comments 

The game has changed astronomically since my first duplicate experience over fifty years ago, though the lust for masterpoints hasn’t diminished. Back then, there was no glut as evidenced today where (even if you end up under average) you still might get some fractional token award for merely showing up, paying your card fee and playing all the boards. You beat the other bozos, didn’t you? What a contrived bonanza!

In my novice days, we breathlessly counted the hours till the monthly ‘Masterpoint Night’ rolled around, with overall winners being awarded one point. Yes, one whole point!!! Wow! Forgive my irreverence, but to the early fanatics, it was akin to a celestial happening. Many of you old-timers must remember being mesmerized by the lure of an entire point. In my neck of the woods, the fourth Monday night of every month was the appointed bewitching hour. No one dared to make normal social arrangements for that ‘special’ evening. Longstanding commitments made a month in advance were commonplace – for fear of losing your favorite partner to some interloper who might steal your bridge mate. Hail to the days when winning an entire masterpoint was a huge achievement. Today you can cop 250 points by capturing an NABC major team game — inflation at the consummate level!

I remember well the excitement of after hours entertainment. In today’s world, the scrutinizing of hand records (non-existent back then) and the holding of post mortems to determine what coulda/shoulda been done envelops one’s mind. In the 60s and 70s after the evening game – other mental challenges prevailed. Bridge was put to rest for the night. We would adjourn to someone’s suite where dozens of bridge players congregated till the wee hours of the morning playing charades, word games, anagrams, whatever! Dorothy and Alan Truscott would hold court and no one had a better repertoire of puzzles (both questions and answers) than those two. It was like playing three sessions a day (minus the detriment of a partner)!

The dress code was different back then as well. Today everything is more casual and just about anything goes. On weekends (especially Saturday nights) – many players dressed to the nines — unlike today where only shoeless and bare-chested males (and bare-chested females, I presume) are frowned upon.

My introduction to bridge simply included boards, table cards, travelers and rather mundane looking colorless convention cards. Non-existent were alerts, stop cards, seeding points, bidding boxes, screens (a cautionary tactic to prevent telltale facial expressions and gestures or foot contact to impart unauthorized information), recognized plateaus of life mastership, complicated artificial bidding systems and pre-typed suggested defenses, cell phone or text message concerns, zero tolerance, novices, juniors, seniors, timing devices to signal the end of a round and the newest revolutionary addition — electronic scoring boxes. This device allows you to post your result on the board just played and a performance percentage standing in the field magically pops up as one of your opponents hits the O. K. button approving the documentation. The latter has some serious advantages for calculating players, though the pre-scoring concept undoubtedly saves wear and tear on the director as his or her job has been done.

Just about everything today has been computerized. Perhaps we will all soon be replaced by robots! Historically alien to our game was on-line bridge, witnessing live matches via computer with expert (and some less than expert) commentators, sophisticated vu-graph, professionalism, sponsorship, grand national events, stratified competition, a League of Nations (evidenced by an influx of professional foreign experts into our major events lured to our shores by U. S. sponsors’ big bucks) – and more. With such lucrative incentives, many of our high caliber visitors either obtain Green Cards, eventually opt for dual citizenship or even take up permanent residence in the States. We still proudly represent the Land of Opportunity and their participation makes it a far stronger field and better event — but often compromises the caliber and expertise of a victorious team.

When I got my feet wet back in ’56 after finishing college, bridge contestants were like the proverbial melting pot!. Stratification had not come of age and everyone competed against everyone else. Of course, you chose the game you preferred but there was no way of dodging the bullet – playing against the best. It was a marvelous learning experience. I fell in love with the game on Day One but never entertained exalted aspirations (or delusions) of attaining greatness – merely enjoyment – and doing as well as my talents (or lack of them) permitted. As the diversification of events expanded, it separated the men from the boys (and I am not alluding to Men’s and Women’s Events) – but rather — the top, the middle and the bottom (perhaps inexperienced) echelons. My late husband Norman was very astute. He once approvingly said to me, “Judy – the best part of your game is picking your spots and knowing where to play.” I have followed my own advice to this very day and it has worked to my advantage. Content! Not everyone can be Norman Kays or Bobby Wolffs (but free lessons go a long way)!

The starting times underwent radical changes as well. I recall 1:30 and 8:00 events at the Sectionals, Regionals and Nationals (and even Midnight Zips for the hale and hardy at the NABCs). Today the schedules vary – depending upon the type of tournament. At one NABC, they experimented with 10 and 3 starting times — not well received on The Hit Parade. They are certainly a blessing to insomniacs who can’t sleep anyway and for senior citizens wanting to get a head start in the morning and hit the hay early – but less enticing for those who have real jobs and prefer (especially on weekdays) to at least show their face in the office – though perhaps for an abbreviated stay. It’s also a great incentive to some who have non-playing spouses or significant others — desirous of doing penance and joining them for a relaxing dinner in a timely fashion. However, those enjoying three sessions a day may have less than an hour before their last starting time and it could become stressful, bolstering sales of Gaviscon and other fast-acting stomach remedies.

Changing Times is a vast underbid!

FULL DISCLOSURE

September 10th, 2008  ~  Judy Kay-Wolff  ~  4 Comments 

WHAT HAS BECOME OF FULL DISCLOSURE?

I think it is high time the ACBL took one step back and looked at the mounting glitches on the tournament scene – and recognized their responsibility for finding a cure. A combination of the brazen improprieties of many of the players by deliberate failure to alert and withholding of pertinent information (plus the accompanying indifference of some of the directors) leaves much to be desired. It is the duty of those in charge to point bridge in the right direction with tact and diplomacy. If they do not have the time, dedication or inclination to right the wrongs and prevent recurrences in the future – then perhaps they should move on as they are not equipped (or perhaps trained) to do their job.

I recently attended a regional and Bobby and I privately spoke to the lovely, caring head Tournament Director who lent a very sympathetic ear to my complaints (and heeded Bobby’s vehement suggestions), promising to speak to the director involved. Several annoying director-related incidents occurred in a two day period. This was merely one of them ….

Here was the situation. You be the judge!

The auction had proceeded:

1C P 1D P

1NT P 3NT P

P P

Before I led, I questioned the 1D bidder if partner could have a four card major. The diamond bidder shrugged and innocently stated the NTer probably denied a major but she was not sure. They were a seeded pair, it was not the first time they had played together and not such an absurd question. The fact they did not have a mutual understanding is unacceptable. They should have had one as it is a necessary component of bidding.  Plain and simple.

How could she not be sure? Her partner sat there smugly and volunteered nothing. Why should she? She certainly did not have a four card major — SHE HAD TWO OF THEM. Yet – she did not offer to correct her partner’s misleading information. To me that is unconscionable! It may not be ‘required’ by law which perhaps suggests that our present day ACBL procedures need scrutiny and overhauling. To correct partner’s statement would, in my opinion, have been the decent and honorable action. In fact, Bobby felt much more strongly that the NTer had a moral responsibility to correct the wishy-washy response and come clean, confessing she had both four card majors. Perhaps that is radical and a bit much to expect, but she could have initiated: “I COULD have one or both of them.” Because of the failure to amend partner’s statement, I made an unfavorable lead and then discarded injudiciously, to boot, as I was totally in the dark as to declarer’s distribution and point count. Sadly, the setting was surreal – more like a poker jamboree than a bridge setting.

Even more distasteful was the nonchalant attitude of the summoned director who matter-of-factly (but not before prodding by us) reluctantly told the partnership to get their understandings straightened out and hurriedly left the scene of the crime. It would have served the game better had he explained their erroneous information caused the opponents to misdefend – inappropriately resulting in an undeserved bonus to the guilty partnership. It was clear he was avoiding a ‘reprimand.’

General policy leans toward keeping the customers happy by avoiding situations, thereby encouraging them to continue to patronize the game – resulting in increased attendance and more card fees. That criteria should not be top priority of those in charge – but until directors are better trained, these ill-handled situations will continue.  It should always be an overriding consideration that "common sense prevails."

After the smoke had cleared, I obtained the hand records – in readiness to nurse my wounds — but it seemed to be only the tip of the iceberg. To compound the errors of their ways, we learned our opponents must have been playing weak NT and not alerted as the opener’s hand was AQJ9 AJ52 8 A1095 and rebid 1NT with 16 high card points. Perhaps getting that stealthy high point message across (regardless of the distorted distribution) was more important than denying the fullness of the major suit holdings. We were none the wiser until the following day. Is this what directing is all about? I think not.

It matters not in which venue one is playing (whether it be a club game or NABC).  Our standards should not be compromised at any level. Let’s start participating in active ethics by allowing our opponents to enjoy a level playing field and force the directors to join the party. If the players won’t rise to the occasion, it is the moral responsibility of the governing body (the ACBL and its policy formulating committees) to recommend and sanction full disclosure when a misexplanation is rendered, placing the onus of clarification and enforcement squarely upon the shoulders of its representatives — the directing staff!

Rome is burning!!!!!!!!!!!