An old partner – I’ll call him Stu – has a reputation as a good but sometimes temperamental player. At a long-ago club game, we had an uncontested auction to 4S and Stu, who had considered making a slam try, decided to be conservative and stop in game. This elicited an unexpected double from his left-hand opponent.
Stu, who was still steaming about how this opponent had “fixed” us on the previous board, promptly redoubled, grumbling that it was probably “free”, as surely no one else would double this contract.
He was wrong. Although we had 29 high-card points and a 9-card fit, the doubler held two aces and ♠QJ109, so we were minus 400 for a zero. Passing would have been an average, as every table reached 4S and every opponent made the obvious penalty double.
Bridge players are naturally competitive, so it’s not surprising that emotions can run high at the table. They occasionally surface in the form of verbal sparring with partner or the opponents, but internalized emotions are just as distracting. Even if you maintain a calm demeanor on the outside, these feelings can interfere with concentration and cloud your judgment.
Frustration is built into the game of bridge. It’s a natural reaction to setbacks, especially those that you believe were out of your control. The feeling itself is harmless unless you allow it to affect your bridge decisions, as Stu did when he made the vendetta redouble. The temptation to make up for the previous bad board – and make his opponent pay for the “insult” – obscured the logical conclusion that she could have a legitimate penalty double.
Here’s a similar trap that most of us have fallen into:
LHO Partner RHO You
1S DBL Pass 2D
2S 3D Pass Pass
3S Pass Pass 4D
4S Pass Pass ?
None vulnerable, what’s your call holding ♠J5 ♥4 ♦K87532 ♣Q1073 ?
Perhaps you’re wishing you could take back your 4D bid, but now you’re stuck with an unexpected dilemma. There’s nothing more demoralizing than pushing your opponents into game and then guessing wrong about whether it’s making. Do you panic and bid 5D, even though the vulnerability isn’t right for a sacrifice? Or do you choose the vendetta double to punish your opponent for his silly bidding?
Those are both emotional reactions that put you in the dreaded “last buffoon” position, where you force yourself to make the final, potentially fatal guess in an auction. If you can get past your annoyance with yourself and your opponent, you’ll realize that you don’t have to be concerned about whether 4S is making. If 4S happens to be the normal contract, passing will get you a near-normal result. If it’s a ridiculous contract, you won’t have to double to get a good score.
If 4S is abnormal and cold, you have to take your bad score, forgive yourself and regroup for the next board. As obvious as that advice is, it’s extremely difficult to follow in the heat of battle.
You’ll find insights into this aspect of the game
in the 1996 book At the Table: The Autobiography of the World’s #1-rated
Bridge Player by Bob Hamman and Brent Manley. It’s a fascinating look at
Hamman’s life and how he developed the winning habits that made him a bridge
superstar. A recurring theme throughout the book is how Hamman and his partners
recovered from bidding disasters. Right after I read it, I started thinking
differently about the psychological elements of the game -- and discovered that
I was bouncing back better from my bad results.
© 2017 Karen Walker