Sick of playing those same old mortal opponents you get at your local bridge club? The folks in Mollo’s Menagerie had the spicy experience one Walpurgis Night (go on, look it up!) of playing against the Prince of Darkness and his consort, who had taken the assumed names of Lord and Lady Greymalkin (Destiny at Bay, chapter thirteen). Here’s my favourite hand, where the demonic duo get the better of perennial lovable muppets Timothy the Toucan, and the original Rueful Rabbit:
The Rabbit and Toucan bid the East-West hands to the unassailable 7H, and excitedly showed each other their cards. Unfortunately, they had forgotten to wait till the bidding was over, meaning that
all twenty six cards they held were now major penalty cards. South could now bid 7NT, and, since Law 50 allowed him to choose the cards the opponents played, this ludicrous contract romped home on a combined 1-count! I’ll leave it to you to work out the best sequence of play to ensure thirteen tricks.
But then, if you want to play occult bridge, there’s no need to wait for the Father of Lies to cut into your club game. The Bridge to Nowhere team includes our very own Necromancer, a notorious psychic bidder, who is adept at conjuring up the spirits of hands long since dead and bidding them in place of the thirteen cards he actually holds. (Thirteen cards? No wonder there’s a home for the occult in our game!) Now let’s be clear, though, what the Necromancer’s goals are, and what makes a good psyche. Our psychic pscientist once saw a junior pick up the following, third in hand, non vulnerable against vulnerable:
After two passes, would you ever open 1C? The Necromancer disapproves. Meddling in the spirit world is a risky undertaking, and the ghouls who inhabit the dark beyond play cruel tricks on those who interfere without fixed purpose in mind. You’re not eating any bidding space, you’re not directing a helpful lead from partner (do you really want him to lead from K-x in that suit?), and you’re not even picking off a suit where the opponents are likely to have a fit. This pitiable effort met with just punishment: for of course partner had a maximum pass, and of course he responded 2NT, and there are few forms of scoring where -200 on a partscore deal leads to a good result.
No, our Necromancer, instructor in the dark arts, has convinced us that the forces of the underworld will only side with our efforts when we have some evil, sinister purpose in mind. A psyche has a chance of succeeding when it can meet two objectives. Firstly, it has to envision an action from the opponents that will lead to their winning the board – finding a slam, or the right game, or getting off to the right lead against our best contract. And next, it must create an illusion, a diversion, that draws the opponents away from that successful action and leads them to their doom. It’s much like tempting someone to sell his soul – you have to offer in exchange a prospect that appears enticing at first sight, but only reveals itself to be smoke and mirrors when it’s already too late.
Here’s an example of how the Necromancer enlists the psychic forces of the Dark Beyond, from the Brighton Congress teams this past summer:
Holding the above cards, the Necromancer opened 1H first in hand, and was gratified to hear a 1S response from partner. What would your next bid be? 4S seems to sell the hand short, when as little as ten-fourth of spades and the ace-queen of clubs opposite would give a decent play for slam, but what is the best way to try for six? A 4D splinter would convey the diamond shortness, though would not get across the potential of that beautiful heart side suit, and would probably imply better clubs. The Necromancer also had a 5D bid available (Voidwood, or Exclusion Blackwood) which would ask for keycards outside the diamond suit, suggesting a diamond void, and would at least have the merit of avoiding a hopeless contract whenever the opponents could cash two aces on lead. What do you think the Necromancer did?
Rejecting all of the above bids, he tried for outright larceny, and bid 5C(!), showing a void in
clubs, and asking for keycards outside the club suit. Partner duly showed two without the queen of trumps, and shortly found himself in 6 spades. Turn now to St Jude (for it was he) in the East seat, and try to find an opening lead:
Obviously on the auction the club lead looked like one of Jude’s trademark Lost Causes, since not only would it be ruffed in the dummy, it might also allow declarer to take a ruffing finesse in clubs for a critical discard later in the play. Jude settled on a diamond, as dummy looked to have a few high cards in diamonds on the auction, and partner might have the offside king to establish before declarer could set up the hearts to get rid of his losers in that suit.
Partner did indeed come up with the king of diamonds, but to no avail, for this was the full deal:
| Dealer | S | | Vul | All | | Scoring | Imp | | Lead | ♦5 |
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With both dummy’s clubs going off on the diamonds, twelve tricks were now trivial for declarer, thanks to the Necromancer’s incantations. And who can say he didn’t deserve his luck? He imagined a hand where God intended that slam should go off, and with the assistance of the psychic world thwarted the best efforts of His humble agent St Jude once again. Good versus evil... the battle that began in the Griffins’ club among the Mollo menagerie continues at the card table to this day, and will not reach its resolution until the day the Angel Gabriel draws the Last Trump.
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