KJxxxxx
xx
xx
Qx

Partner opens 1N (15-17 HCP).

1. What do think everyone else is going to bid with this hand?  (In other words, what’s the “field” bid?)
2. What are some ways to shoot with this hand?  (I can think of at least three.)
3. What’s the best bid?

Answers to "Shooting"

Remember that.

This comes up a lot:

LHO opens 2D (natural).

Partner makes a takeout double.

RHO passes.

You hold:

Kxxx
Qx
Jxx
KQxx

What do you bid?

This is a no-brainer — of course you bid 4S.  Okay, maybe you’ll go down one, but is there really any intelligent alternative?

Partner tables:

xx
AKxx
Kxx
Axxx

After you go down 3, partner laments:  “I was afraid you might bid spades, but I couldn’t pass with 14 points…”

Really?  Why not?

The hard part to swallow is that maybe 1 in 10 times an off-shape double will produce a superior result (especially when it’s the opponents making the off-shape double).

But I promise you that 10 out of 10 times you will be destroying partnership confidence — you might as well be playing solitaire.

One final note — if you absolutely cannot bring yourself to pass with partner’s hand, at least try bidding 2N instead of doubling.

But I still think it’s worthwhile.  Consider:

1. How many times in your life are you going to be a Master of anything?  Okay, maybe it’s not on the same level as winning the Nobel Peace Prize, but it’s something.
2. Being a Life Master doesn’t mean that other players will necessarily look up to you, but not being a Life Master is certainly viewed with suspicion.  Oh, I know it’s possible to be a non-LM and play and pretty good game of bridge.  I just haven’t met too many people that fall into that category.
3. Once you make Life Master, they can’t take it away from you.  (At least not yet, anyway.)  In chess, if you make it to Master, you’ll lose the title if your rating falls below 2200.
4. There are people who spend years, decades even, trying to get those last few gold points.  Ask them if they think Life Master is a worthwhile goal!
5. It’s not a perfect system, by any means, but becoming a Life Master is probably as close as we’ll come to objective evidence that someone isn’t a totally hopeless bridge player. 

In case you missed it, the ACBL is raising the requirements for Life Master, as of January 1, 2010, to 500 masterpoints, of which 50 must be gold, 50 must be red (or gold), 75 must be silver (no substitution), and 75 must be black (i.e., no online points).  The other 250 can be any color.

However, if you are a paid-up member of the ACBL as of December 31, 2009, the old standards will apply to you, as long as you keep your membership in good standing:  300 masterpoints, of which 25 must be gold, 25 must be red/gold, 50 must be silver (no substitution), and  50 black points.

I know, I know…

Partner makes a limit raise to 3S, guaranteeing 4 spades and 10-12 HCP.

You cross your fingers and trot out Roman Keycard Blackwood (0314), but partner rains on your parade by bidding 5C.

You then sign off in 5S, praying for a minor miracle to save you from going down one.

But partner now shocks you by bidding 6S:

What’s going on?  And what do you do now?

Answer to What's Going On No. 1

There are a couple of reasons for this:

1. Some Life Masters (even ones with 1000+ masterpoints) are really terrible players.  I don’t want to name names, but you know who I’m talking about.
2. The correlative of Item No. 1 is that just about anyone who plays enough duplicate bridge will become a Life Master.
3. Even after you become a Life Master, you’ll find that the “experts” at your club still don’t want to play with you.
4. The way tournaments are flighted, after you become a Life Master you can still play in the “intermediate” section.  Unless you’re a real whiz or a total addict (which may be the same thing), it will take decades for you to have too many masterpoints to play in Flight B.
5. Almost 40% of current ACBL members have 300+ masterpoints.

Even so, I still think that becoming a Life Master is a worthy pursuit.

To be continued…

The same thing goes for Strong Two Bids, a 16-18 NT range, and players who insist on using the Foster Echo.

Then, when I get a bad score, I explain to partner how we got fixed.

The reverse situation is when I agree to play a convention that I don’t really understand and/or have a hard time remembering because all the “good” players play it.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve agreed to lead 3rd and 5th and a few hands later find myself staring at the 4th best card I’ve just laid on the table…

The number one rule about bridge conventions is:  Play what you know, and know what you play.  Winning or losing doesn’t depend on *what* you play as much as *how well* you play it.

The next time you find yourself looking down at an opponent’s convention card, take a moment.  Chuckle, if you must, deep down inside.  Then let it go and play your very best.

And the next time you find yourself filling out a convention card with a new partner, resist the urge to impress them with how many bridge books you’ve read.  Trust me.

The same thing applies at the bridge table.

You make a bad bid.  Maybe you’ve forgotten some wrinkle in your partnership agreement.  Maybe you were distracted, and didn’t notice that RHO had slipped in a double right before your bid.

Anyway, you’re staring at your last bid.  You’ve realized your mistake, and you’re sweating it.  But then it occurs to you that perhaps your bad bid might somehow lead to a good result, if only partner makes the right call…

Confused, partner goes into the tank and finally pulls out the one card from her/his bidding box that you didn’t want to see.  Disaster follows.

In the post mortem, you immediately pin the blame on partner, conveniently failing to address your initial contribution to the bad result.  Yes, maybe your bid was questionable, but partner’s bid was ridiculous!

Stop.

Apologize for your original misdeed.

Move on.

If you can do that, you’re a terrific partner.  (Better than me…)

Look at each hand as a separate thing.  Do your very best.  Give it everything you’ve got.

And then, whether the hand was a triumph or a disaster, move onto the next hand.  And give that hand your very best.

1. The auction dies out at 2H, so you make a close balancing bid of 2S.  The opponents wake up, and end up in 4H.  You are so irked by the auction that you double.  The declarer manages to blow an obvious ovetrick with inept play – yet thanks to the double the opponents wind up with a cold top on an otherwise flat board.
2. The next hand, you try to make up some ground.  White on red, you open 3D on a jack-high suit.  Swish.  What’s going on here?  Sure enough, you’ve preempted partner who has a pretty decent hand, but who made a disciplined pass with a stiff diamond.  Down 3 for another bottom.
3. On the last hand, you and your partner reach a confident 6S.  LHO doubles, and it comes back to you.  After sweating it, you finally decide to try 6N.  Guess what — 6S is cold, and 6N is down one.  LHO doubled because she had a club mixed in with her spades.

Okay, I’m exaggerating a little.  (And perhaps in one of these examples, I was on the “bad player” side…)  But you get the point.

Here’s my advice:

1. A certain percentage of the time you’re going to get fixed.  Them’s the breaks.  Deal with it.  I don’t care if you’re Giorgio Belladonna, you are going to get a bottom if the opponents manage to stop in 2N with 29 points between them and only 8 tricks are available.
2. The corollary of No. 1 is that you shouldn’t try for, or expect, a 100% game against bad players.  Aim for a more reasonable 65% based on sensible bidding and play.  If you get more than 65%, it’s gravy.  (And if you get less, well, them’s the breaks…)
3. Please, please, please don’t make bad bids and plays in an effort to mess with the opponents.  Believe me, they will have no idea what you’re doing.  The only person you will end up fooling (other than yourself) is your poor, suffering partner.
4. Be very careful if you try to draw inferences from opponent’s play.  Bad players tank in the strangest situations, and their carding is often downright mystifying.
5. Avoid close penalty doubles.  BTW, one great piece of advice I read in a book by Terence Reese is that as a general rule you should try to bid your own cards to their maximum level before thinking about doubling the opponents.
6. Whatever you do, be unfailingly polite to the opponents.  If they luck into a top, let them enjoy it.  It’s painful, I know, but you’ll get through it.  (If they give you a top through a hilarious mistake, save your chuckling for the car ride home.)
7. Finally, get over yourself and relax!  With few exceptions (and you know who you are), no matter how well you play, there are hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of people who play way better than you do.  Treat your weaker opponents as you would want your stronger opponents to treat you.