Footnote to Chaos

I pride myself that over my bridge career seldom have I gone for 800 in a part score deal. My declarer skills are such that I usually can hold it to 500. I have to admit I slipped up last week on the deal below, but it didn’t cost even 1 matchpoint. Usually idiotic performances contain little of interest to the thinking public, unless large amounts of money are involved. Money adds excitement to all facets of life. A Rolex makes even 5 past 3 in the afternoon seem exciting. Money enlivens a game of poker and adds to the tension in PGA golf tournaments – the more money involved the more poignant the short putt missed. I wonder if the same is becoming true of sex – the more it costs the more exciting it becomes for spectators and participants alike? (I believe the Supreme Court has ruled paid-for sex is allowed under the pursuit of happiness clause in the Constitution but subject to federal tax in every state but Utah, where any heterosexual act is considered to be, de jure, matrimonial, so exempted.) Money generates interest.

Any poker player who bets only according to the quality of the cards he holds is a bad player. That assessment has spilled over to bridge, where once it was assumed that a good player bids strictly according to what he sees in his hand. Past participants felt entitled to reliable information, but now it’s everybody for himself. Following established principles of Zen, professional coaches are teaching experts do what dumb players do naturally, create chaos. I attribute this, and most current human disasters, to the world-wide trend to self-centered individualism. Instead of stumbling in the dark, we can solve most problems collectively if we put our minds to it, competitive bidding included.

As noted in the previous blog, one approach to unreliable takeout doubles is to ignore them and bid as if they had not occurred, with the exception of the redouble which is reserved for showing strong hands with interest in game or penalty. So if the bidding goes, 1♦ – dbl – 1♥, this is a normal response with no immediate interest in game or penalty. It doesn’t even promise a 5-card suit. This is the expert approach to ‘competitive bidding in the 21st century’ according to Marshall Miles in his book of that name (p148f).

I was delighted to be given an opportunity to put this idea to the test. My partner, Thomas, opened 1♦ and my RHO doubled. She is a player who doubles on anything, so here was the perfect experimental set up – I ignored the interference.

Thomas	Bob	Thomas		Bob
♠ QJ6	♠ KT53	1♦	Dbl	1♥	2♠
♥  A963	♥ K742	3♥	Dbl	Pass	Pass
♦ 8764	♦T5	Pass
♣ AQ	♣ 965

I was too sanguine. The vulnerable opponents were out of their depth: 2♠ undisturbed would have been down 2, for 200, a top score. 3♦ if allowed to be played by the doubler would have been down 1, perhaps doubled. Thomas saw thing differently, thinking that the opposition held a good fit in spades, so there was a need to proceed with a presumed 9-card heart fit. Too bad I wasn’t able to go around the table and bid his hand for him. What would I have bid if I were my own partner? I would pass as quickly as is ethical. It always helps if you can see all 4 hands, besides which I don’t trust me so far as to double.

If West passes, he can lead a heart against 2♠ undoubled to set the contract by 2, in which case East’s 1♥ bid will not have proved disastrous. If West passes and North bids 3♦, will it be passed by South or will she think it is a cue bid in support of her spades? Against 3♦, perhaps sportingly doubled by West, East must not lead a heart, and is unlikely to do so.

One call that West must not make is 3♥. Bidding to the 3-level with the vast majority of points in the black suits and a badly held advertised suit is unwise, even if one hopes partner holds a singleton spade. Don’t support with support this time. As you have opened the bidding, your above average point count has been announced. The hand is balanced. If partner is short in spades and has a moderately good hand, he will bid again. Even if partner has 5 hearts, and he has not promised that number, can declarer stand a bad split in his trump suit? Clearly Thomas’s thinking is stuck way back in the 20th century.

The reader may feel Bob got no more than he deserved for his weak bid, which even Marshall Miles would find to be too much. Maybe, but I took into account the known unreliability of the opposition. We had reached a good position. Consider this: if I had the ♦Q or the ♣K to add to my defensive arsenal, bidding 1♥ would undoubtedly be the recommended action, after which raising to 3♥ would be an even worse decision.

Cooperative Doubles
In the above example one may assume for the purposes of defining a system, that NS have found a fit, even if they haven’t. In such cases a double by West is a cooperative double, showing extras and suggesting a penalty but not insisting on it. In the past it would be strictly for penalty. The more uncertain the bidding around the table, the more flexibility is required. So, North can be thought of a merely promising an opening bid of some sort, East has a hand that would respond 1♥ without interference, and South has spades and, perhaps, little else. West needn’t assume NS have in fact a spade fit, as the example shows. At best, he can offer an opinion, so he doubles on suspicion and substance. With length in spades, East can pass the double, if it comes to him, which it won’t. When North pulls to 3♦, the hand becomes an open book.

There is no compulsion to compete to 3♥ on the auction, as by not redoubling East has expressed no interest in game. Consider the uncontested auction: 1♦ – 1♥; 2♥ – Pass. Neither partner has gone beyond 2♥. If the opponents come in belatedly, there is no obligation to bid over their 2♠. Of course, one would strive to do so, but it would require something more than minimum opening bid and a minimum response, namely, shortage.

Thinking Numerically
One may discuss many examples of large swings due to random, chaotic actions and not get far, but that does not mean that chaos is not a fit subject for analysis. To make a science of competitive bidding we have to put numbers to it. In areas of high uncertainty probability is the key ingredient.  High card points lose much of their relevance, and shape takes over in the form of the division of sides, and its attribute, the number of total trumps. In the above disaster the division of sides was 8-7-6-5, so it was unsafe to compete to the 3-level, vulnerable. EW can make 7 tricks in hearts and NS can make 8 tricks in diamonds, so the Law of Total Tricks is close to the right number. The major difficulty in the bidding is that Thomas thinks there is a 9-card fit in hearts with a singleton spade opposite, making the probable division of sides 4=9=7=6 with a Total Trick Count of 18. If he passes NS may have stolen it at 2♠. They haven’t.

A blind guess can’t justify bidding to the 3-level on a flat hand. The general rule is that the player with shortage in their suit is the one who should make the decision as to whether or not to move to the next level. Let’s look at some numbers.

			I				II				III				IV
	W	E	EW		W	E	EW		W	E	EW		W	E	EW
♠	3	4	7		3	2	5		1	3	4		3	1	4
♥	4	4	8		4	5	9		4	4	8		4	5	9
♦	4	2	6		4	2	6		5	2	7		4	4	8
♣	2	3	5		2	4	6		3	4	7		2	3	5

 

 

 

 

Case I  Total Trumps equal 16, so don’t proceed.
Case II Total Trumps equal 17, but NS have only an 8-card fit.
Case III Total Trumps equal 17, but EW have only an 8-card fit.
Case IV Total Trumps equal 18 with double fits, so advance.

With no shortage in either hand it is best to go quietly without extra controls. West might consider bidding 3♥ in Case III on the assumption that East holds 5 hearts, but he can’t be sure. East knows there is no diamond fit. Only in Case IV can one say bidding to 3♥ is likely to pay off, and it is East who should make the move after West passes to show a flat hand. He can gauge the goodness of fit better than West. If there is no heart fit, there will be a diamond fit. He can bid 2NT for takeout. Another link to probability: passing to show a flat hand tells partner your hand is among the most probable of possibilities.