Tuesday, December 23, 2008

A Very 'Bridge to Nowhere' Christmas

Christmas carols are like the tabloid journals of the festive season. They reduce complex issues and situations to a simplistic verse-chorus structure for easy consumption by the masses, and they incorporate masses of errors in context and detail. Why, for example, did Good King Wenceslas carry heavy pinelogs down to the poor man who lived by the forest fence? – if he’d only picked out a pair of wirecutters and a sharp axe, he could have acquired all the wood he wanted on the spot for half the effort. Where is the land of Orientare, and what complex constitutional arrangements allow it to be ruled by three kings? And how could anyone have seen three ships come sailing in when Bethlehem is forty miles inland?

Such distortion has also affected that perennial favourite, “Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer”; but tonight, after literally minutes of tireless research, Bridge to Nowhere is finally in a position to reveal the true story behind this classic Christmas anthem! The other reindeer have been much maligned down the years for shunning Rudolf on account of his harmless physical deformity, even to the point of excluding him from their games. But Santa is an agent of absolute good! Could he really have such malicious and small-minded creatures in his employ? We find this hard to believe. The truth is, if the reindeer game was bridge, then eight players would have been sufficient for a competitive two-table game, leaving no space for poor Rudolf, who arrived on the reindeer scene too late to get a regular partner and, for his first few years in Lapland, got no closer to the game than Vugraph operator for the benefit of the thousands of entranced elves watching on BBO.

We are now in a position to tell you more. The event is the annual North Pole Classic, and until lately the only entrants were the same four reindeer pairs. Dasher plays with Dancer: Dasher plays at a blistering pace, relying on instinct to make up for his inability to think through complex endings, but is often saved by the thoughtful plays of Dancer, who can make the cards pirouette like ballet prima donnas. The next pair is Comet and Cupid. Cupid’s just a boy, really, but he’s completely in love with the game; Comet, a former international who blazed a trail through the bridge firmament in his youth, has taken him on as his protégé. Donner and Blitzen are a solid and dependable couple, though somewhat short on flair, relying on a bidding system that has been constructed with Teutonic thoroughness and similar inflexibility. Don’t go overbidding against them, though, as they exhibit astute judgement when it comes to swinging the axe (though some would suggest that the thunderous tones in which they boom “Double!” are perhaps a touch unethical). The last, and weakest, partnership is Prancer and Vixen, an ill-matched pair indeed: Vixen is a subtle player well-versed in the arts of deceit, but her shrewd traps are often unlaid by the heedless plays of her preening exhibitionist partner. The North Pole Classic is the prestige event of the Contract Bridge Association of Lapland. Each pair plays seven boards in partnership with each other pair, for each match playing in direct opposition to the other two pairs. All scores are IMPed against the other table, and the pair which wins the most IMPs by the end of the session earns the much-coveted prize of the lead position in Santa’s team, fronting the Jolly Fat Man’s efforts to deliver playing cards, pencils and scorepads to all the good boys and girls worldwide (and to the bad, no lumps of coal, but rather a guarantee that their finesses will always be off, and trumps will always be 5-0 offside).

Rudolph’s big break finally came one year when Cupid and Comet, returning from a Congress abroad, unexpectedly found themselves fogbound at Schiphol Airport, and Santa (the Tournament Director) put out an urgent last-minute call for substitutes. Rudolph eagerly volunteered, but finding him a partner was a more difficult task, until finally, with the utmost reluctance, Olive (the other reindeer) came forward. In the first set, they played against Donner and Blitzen, with Prancer and Vixen as team-mates. This was a baptism of fire for an untested partnership, and Olive’s attitude did not help matters: she laughed at Rudolf’s clumsy and unsophisticated bidding methods on the first few hands, and called him all sorts of names, such as “palooka” and “muppet”. However, on board 6 Rudolf finally had a chance to shine, sniffing out a vulnerable game that was missed at the other table, and on board 7 he passed a big red two-suiter on which Dasher took a phantom sacrifice. These two pieces of good judgement made up in some measure for the catastrophes they had suffered earlier in the set, and they managed to hold the deficit to 16 IMPs, a mountain to climb, certainly, but not yet out of touch, with Olive’s confidence in Rudolf’s play much improved.

In the second set, Rudolf and Olive partnered Dasher and Dancer, this time sitting down against Prancer and Vixen. Rudolf had by now hit his stride and felt good about his game, and unravelled many of Vixen’s most cunning traps. At the other table, Donner and Blitzen, with the same cards as Rudolph and Olive, produced workmanlike and accurate bridge, but were undone by the swings created by their team-mates, and were disappointed to come back with a 17 IMP defeat.

And so the stage was set for the last round: Donner and Blitzen (-1), no longer able to qualify but still playing for their pride, in harness with Rudolf and Olive (+1), who needed a big swing to be in with a chance; on the other side, Dasher and Dancer (+33) protecting a long lead, but this time handicapped by the clearly out-of-form Prancer and Vixen (-33). Few IMPs changed hands on the first six boards, but the ones which did moved in Dasher and Dancer’s direction, leaving them on +36 IMPs and Rudolf and Olive on -2 when Board 21 hit the table.

Board 21. N dealer, NS vulnerable

North Pole Classic, Board 21
DealerN
VulN/S
ScoringImp
A64
AK9
AKQJ732
QJ9752
75
T65
K8
KT3
63
QJ975432
8
QJT842
984
AT6


PrancerDonnerVixenBlitzen
 1♣(1)p2♥(2)
p5♣(3)p5♦(4)
p5♠(5)p6♣(6)
p7NT


(1) Strong & forcing
(2) 6 hearts, 4-7 HCP
(3) Exclusion Blackwood, asking for keycards outside clubs
(4) 0 or 3 keycards outside clubs
(5) Asking for heart Q
(6) Showing the heart Q, plus extra values in clubs (here clearly the ace)

At Donner’s table, Donner opened a strong 1C, and Vixen guessed to pass, outfoxing herself once again: heavy pre-emption would surely have worked out better. Thereafter the auction proceeded on conventional lines to the rock-solid 7NT, +2220 to the good guys. Nevertheless, the chance for a big swing looked poor: 7D was just as ice cold as 7NT, and even if Dasher and Dancer reached the heart grand played from the South seat, it was by no means obvious for West to lead the diamond. Not to mention that even bidding (and making) a partscore would still leave Dasher and Dancer well in front and with the prime view on Santa’s forthcoming rounds.

RudolfDasherOliveDancer
 233
p7Xp
pp


At the other table, Dasher (North) opened an Acol 2C, which Olive, in the East seat, overcalled with 3C. Dancer could do no more than show her positive with hearts, whereby Dasher, with no thought to the match situation or to the location of the club ace, bid the grandstanding 7H. Olive now found a Lightner Double, hoping against hope that Rudolf could diagnose the diamond lead. Perhaps Dancer could have converted to 7NT; but ignorant as she was of partner’s holding, she decided to pass in case partner had a spade suit that needed to be ruffed good. Dasher had misgivings about passing, and rued now his rash leap to the grand, but with his club void he really had nowhere else to go.

All eyes were now on Rudolf; it was the night before Christmas, but not a creature stirred as he pondered his lead. In the vugraph room in the Toy Workship, and online throughout the BBO community, the elves and the toymakers held their breath. Donner and Blitzen came over from the other table (where the play had been completed at lightning speed), and nervously chewed their antlers. Santa himself was caught up in the tension of the moment, and as he drifted over to the table and diagnosed both Rudolf’s lead problem and the number of IMPs that would ride on his decision, he called for a hearty swig of sherry to steady his nerves.

Rudolf himself was well aware of the eyes of the kibitzers upon him, and the rich red glow of embarrassment spread over his whole body at the attention that was focused in his direction. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to steady his nerves, and he opened them fully focused on the problem. What lead was Olive calling for? Clubs could be ruled out for certain: not only was Dasher well prepared for a club lead, but Olive herself could expect her partner to lead her suit, unless she issued a clear directive to do otherwise. Rudolf could also rule out the possibility of an ace in Olive’s hand. Certainly Dasher was one of the more... er, adventurous bidders to inhabit the Arctic Circle, but even he was schooled in the various species of Blackwood, and could be relied upon to apply Exclusion Keycard if he needed a bullet somewhere. That left a void with Olive, and mathematically her most likely shortage was in spades, Rudolf’s long suit. Rudolf unstretched his front legs, and reached for the 2 of spades with his right hoof...

...But wait! Luckily reindeer lack opposable thumbs, which affords them plenty of time for second thoughts. As he fumbled with his cards, Rudolf suddenly realised he had given no thought to the likely content of dummy’s hand, which was surely even more transparent on the given auction. By his count, Dasher had at least ten forcing bids available over 3H to learn more about Dancer’s hand. Why, then, had he chosen simply to jump to the grand? Because he could underwrite thirteen tricks on his own cards! And why would that be? Because he had a long, and solid, side suit of his own! What could that long and solid side suit be, if not diamonds? (it certainly wasn’t spades!) Grinning widely, Rudolf realised that the answer was as clear as the nose on his face: lead the red side suit! He picked out the five of diamonds, and when Olive covered it with the heart three, exchanged a jubilant “high one” (again, the physiognomy of hooves prevents a “high five") with his partner. +200 at Rudolf’s table, against +2220 for his team mates: +2420 points works out as +20 IMPs, just enough to overcome the deficit. Rudolf would be flying point tonight!

The rest is history, as we all know from the song, when Santa came to say,

“Rudolph, with your lead so bright
you can lead my sleigh tonight!”

Then all the reindeer loved him,
as they shouted out with glee,
“Rudolf the Red knows bridge, dear;
he’ll go down in history!”

Merry Christmas, and may all your finesses hold up!

Thursday, December 18, 2008

The dog who could play bridge

We heard the story recently of a man who walked into a bar and proudly said to the barman,

“I’ve taught my dog to declare a bridge hand! He’s no good at the bidding, but his declarer play’s pretty sharp! I bet if you set him up with a makeable contract to play, he’ll make it.”

The barman says, “You’re on!” and sets up the following hand:
9
AK765
8765432
AKQJT86
KT63
52

“OK,” says the barman. “The contract’s six spades, and the lead is the ace of hearts. Call your card from dummy.”

The dog says, “RUFF”.

The barman yells, “You’re a fraud, and so’s your dog. Get the HELL out of my bar!” and throws them both out on the street. Befuddled and dazed, they pick themselves up. The dog turns to his master, and says, “Do you think I should have left him on lead to rectify the count for a squeeze?”