Bookworm Bridge Conundrums #53
This conundrum was written by Barbara Seagram's and was originally published in ...
This conundrum was written by John Carruthers and was originally published in the book, Bridge with Another Perfect Partner - you can find out all about it further down the page.
Selby and I were having an after-bridge drink with a few of the other earnest players in the bar. The bar had a lovely Pomerol, of which we were both rather fond. “What do you suppose your goal was when we defended six clubs?” he asked me.
“To defeat the contract,” I replied promptly.
“A laudable goal indeed.” He went on, “Then why did you not act upon it?”
“I thought I had,” I answered, though a little less promptly than before. Selby assumed his most professorial manner. “Did you? Let’s look at the deal and see if you did.” That sounded ominous.
Dealer South, NS vulnerable
Selby expounded, “The bidding was acceptable, although quite a mix of blunt force and science. North was a little unlucky that South’s hand matched up so poorly with his own, although, with most of his strength in the red suits, he might have favored four notrump, discouraging, rather than five notrump. You led the queen of diamonds, upon which I played the ten, as declarer won with his ace. How should he have played?”
I pondered. “I don’t see how he could have done better than he did. He won my diamond lead with his ace, played off the two high clubs and his heart winners, then exited from his hand with a club to my queen.”
“And what conclusions did you draw from his line of play?” Selby asked. This time he included our entire group in his query. The others were silent, waiting for me to stumble. They’d not long to wait.
I replied, “He had six clubs, his three red-suit winners and thus only four
spades. If he had more red cards than those three, the defense was finished.”
“So…”
“So, I needed you to hold either the ace or king of spades to beat the contract. I had to lead a spade and if you held the king, we needed declarer to misguess on my forced spade lead. When he guessed correctly to play low from dummy, he made his slam,” I finished.
Selby was smiling now. “We’ll get to declarer and his insulting play in a moment. First, let’s look at your play of the two of spades. You stated earlier that you had to lead a spade. That much was true, you did. A red-suit switch was unthinkable and would have allowed access to the dummy immediately.
You knew I had two cards in spades. To have a chance to beat the contract, one of them had to be the king or ace. Further, to beat the contract, we had to keep declarer from getting to dummy. Does that suggest anything to you?”
I was stumped. “I cannot lead a red suit and if I can’t lead a spade, I suppose I must lead a cup or a sword. Unfortunately, I was void of both of them.”
“Do you imagine that to be humorous?” Selby inquired. “I assure you it is not.” At least the others thought it a bit funny. Or perhaps it was Selby’s dissection of me they thought amusing. Selby continued, “What if you shift to the jack of spades?”
“That takes away declarer’s guess,” I replied, much too quickly. “Oh…”
“Yes,” Selby picked up, “the light finally dawns — jack, queen, king, ace
of spades. Declarer is left with his only remaining chance, that the nine of spades will drop under the ten. When it does not…” Selby paused.
“I see. He goes one off,” I filled in the blanks. “By the way, what did you mean when you said declarer’s line of play was insulting?”
Selby was positively beaming now. “When you were in with your queen of clubs and had to lead a spade, declarer played low from the queen. That meant he was playing you for the jack and me for the king no more than once guarded.”
“Yes…”
“Since the proper play from your hand, holding the jack of spades, was to play that card and you did not play it, that meant that you could not have it. The upshot was that declarer not only guessed that you had the jack of spades, he also played for you to have misdefended.”
I must remember to have a word or two with that insulting fellow
Bridge with a Perfect Partner, by P. F. Saunders, was published in 1976. Many read and delighted in Saunders’ articles in Bridge Magazine (UK), and Saunders’ character Wilson, according to the flyleaf of the book, is “…an austere character, whose scholarly discourses are enlivened by frequent flashes of mordant wit.” The anonymous narrator comments, “He is very kind in explaining, when I go down in a contract, just how I could have made it and, when he goes down, just how my bidding misled him.” We’ve all played with partners like that, though few of them have had Wilson’s devastating, articulate wit.
In this sequel, John Carruthers, one of the world’s top bridge journalists,takes the reader through a brilliant series of deals, collected from tournaments all over the world. The style is highly reminiscent of Saunders’ original and will give its readers just as much pleasure.
