Hercule Mouse, King of Slams

Hercule Mouse was settling down for a quiet afternoon at home having just drunk the juice from a fermented blueberry that he has put aside for special occasions, when the phone rang. It was Ma Bear from the Friends of the Forest Bridge Club asking if he might be free to play a session with her beloved cub, Lyle, whose partner had called in with a sore paw. ‘There’ll be no charge, but you might teach him a thing or two about discipline,’ she suggested. Well, when a director invites, a wise player accepts, as it is always good to have the director on your side to assure that all fair rulings go your way.

Mouse knew that the burden of the play would rest on his shoulders, just the situation in which he thrived. Given Bear Cub’s inexperience, a 40% score could be forgiven, whereas a 60% score would all be to Mouse’s credit. The first board gave Mouse the assurance that an extraordinary effort would be required on his part.

Squirrel opened with her customary bad preempt, and Mouse did not hesitate to double, envisioning several favourable outcomes. Only when Lyle began to think did he start to have misgivings. ‘Pass’ he whispered under a blueberry soaked breath, but Lyle felt otherwise and bid 3NT. When Bear Cub went down 2 by mistakenly playing Fox for the ♣ A the partnership had got off to the worst start possible. No need to mention that 3NT was in contravention to the ‘direct denies’ Lebensohl agreement clearly displayed on their convention cards – after all, this wasn’t the finals of The World Mind Games for the Mentally Handicapped, although within Mouse’s agitated state of mind it was already beginning to feel like that.

To his credit Mouse blamed himself. Bears are not subtle. It is a mistake to thrust upon them the responsibility of deciding the final contract. Now if he had been playing with Cat, not that he would ever undertake such a partnership, but if he had, Cat would grasp the situation, take all factors into consideration (who was bidding, who was doubling), and pass. Mouse could only hope for some slam hands that were his specialty, while keeping Lyle’s involvement to a minimum. Actually Lyle subsequently made some competent defensive plays by wisely refusing to return his partner’s suit before this psychological test came along.

Peacock made a big noise after Lyle’s 1♦ opening bid. Hercule saw that Peacock felt his opponents could make game somewhere. He might pass 5♦ well content that we had missed our heart fit, but what would he do if he thought we could make slam? wondered Mouse. To find out, he bid 6♦. When Peacock bid 6♠, Mouse doubled for +800. Peahen complained, but Peacock pointed out that no one had bid 6♦, all EW’s were in hearts, making at most 5, so it was a bottom score whether he bid 6♠ or not.

Finally, thought Hercule with some satisfaction, we are above average, but thereafter they were weighed down by Lyle’s errant bidding that demonstrated all the accuracy of a piss into the wind, so much so that the auctions were often propelled in a direction just the opposite to the one intended with attendant dire consequences. They were badly in need of a well-bid slam.

Mouse	Cub
♠ 74	♠ AKJ982	1♦	1♠
♥ AT	♥ 63	2NT	4♣
♦ AKT93	♦ 87	6♣	6NT
♣ AQT6	♣ K53	Pass
5 losers	6+ losers

Hercule’s mouse-brain had never absorbed how one should bid these terrific 5-loser hands with 7 controls. 1NT was within the point range, but surely that was a bad opening bid for such a potent collection. As is so often the case, an overbid seemed the best solution. Having never encountered the Wolff sign-off, Lyle wasn’t sure how to proceed from there, so he resorted to a time honored method of asking for aces then guessing.

For his part Mouse got excited with the prospects when his partner was preparing to go to slam. No matter the meaning of 4♣ , he felt the most effective bid would be a natural 6♣ , showing the concentration of strength in the minors while hopefully steering Lyle in the direction of 6♦. The chances of that happening were slim to none, and they reached the wrong slam with a potentially huge downside.

Frog led the ♥K against 6NT. Mouse won, cashed the ♠A, guarding against the unlikely event of a singleton ♠Q on the right, came to hand with a diamond, and held his breath as he finessed in spades. All was well this time, and he scored 13 tricks on a marked club finesse for a clear top. Only one other pair had reached slam, that in spades, making just 12 tricks on a well-conceived trump safety play.

‘How do I ask for aces?’ queried Bear Cub.
‘4♣ was fine,’ replied Mouse gracefully, ‘except we hadn’t agreed we were playing Gerbil.’
What he really thought was, my Boy, never ask for aces when you don’t know what to do next. Leave that part to me, Hercule Mouse.

With Mouse-Bear in contention the final 3-board round proved decisive.

Eagle led the ♦A, ruffed by Mouse, who was soon able to claim 12 tricks when the ♥A was proved to be onside where it should be. Badger was vexed by the result.

‘Why did you double?’ Badger demanded. ‘If you pass I can double to tell you not to lead a diamond. A lead of the ♥A beats it.’
‘Not double! Don’t be ridiculous – I’ve got 3 quick tricks in my hand plus the queen of trumps.’ retorted Eagle. ‘For your part, it’s better not to bid when you don’t have anything. I bet no one else is getting to slam.’
‘No one’s getting to slam because it should go down,’ answered Badger, his sideburns bristling.
Fur and feathers, thought Mouse, feathers and fur. The signs were auspicious.

Although not a slam deal, the final board was another triumph for bad bidding.

Both bidders held 6-loser hands, but no game was makeable without help from the defenders. Badger led the ♣ 6 and Lyle went up with the ♣ A in dummy to lead the ♥K, covered by Bald Eagle and ruffed. Now 2 diamond ruffs, the ♥Q, and 2 further heart ruffs left this position with the lead in the West hand.

Eagle ruffed the ♣ K with the ♠8 and sighed, ‘you got me,’ as he cashed ♠A dropping his partner’s Queen. ‘What!’ he exclaimed, ‘2 singleton queens of spade in the same round, in the same direction! What are the odds of that? This wouldn’t happen with computer dealt hands.’
‘These were computer dealt hands,’ noted Badger wearily lifting himself from his chair.

When the scores were posted, Bear Cub ran to his mother, exclaiming, ‘Ma, I won, I won!’
‘You young fool,’ replied his mother affectionately, ‘don’t you think I know that. Go and thank nice Mr Mouse, who I’m sure taught you a thing or two about discipline, patience, and winning bridge.’