Matchpoints and Democracy

The matchpoint game is the most democratic form of bridge. Like it or not one finds oneself thrust into a mix of humanity of various abilities and mistaken beliefs. It is reminiscent of the week I spent in a hospital bed with a broken leg (my leg not the bed’s). There was ample time to observe a part of the world with which I had previously not been in close contact. We in Canada are very lucky to have a universal health care system, at the core of which are a group of hard-working professionals who have recently immigrated from all over the world to help us through difficult times and share in our democratic way of life.  I remember especially the Philippina who cleaned toilets 8 hours a day so that her 3 little daughters would have the chance of a better life in a colder climate. Like the surgeon, she is a necessary part of the system, a fact established by Florence Nightingale during the Crimean War.

On my last night in the hospital the bed next to mine became occupied by a young roofer who had had a 3-hour operation to restore knee ligaments torn during a foolish prank. Of course, it was the other guy’s fault. Who am I to scoff – wasn’t my predicament the result of a moment of careless inattention at the top of a step ladder? The next day I couldn’t help overhearing the conversations with his visitors: a comical brother, his bossy mother, his wayward father, and 2 dazed girl friends with whom he was been sleeping, their visits well timed so as not to overlap, his brother keeping an eye on the parking lot below just to make sure there wasn’t a further accident. These people live in a world quite different from mine. During one visit I was amazed to learn a woman can get a birth control rod with a 5-year warranty stuck in her arm. Was it 5 or was it 3? I sure hope she got it right.

Bill Clinton, twice elected president of the United States, once said that the American electorate always makes the right decision. Well, he would, wouldn’t he? (What does Al Gore think?) The theory is that the great mass of ignorant voters will split the vote evenly between Democrat and Republican, leaving the discerning few to decide the election after due consideration, presumably after having paid close attention to the boring TV debates. With regard to the numbskulls at the next bed, if the 3 males voted Republican, and the 3 females voted Democrat, that would leave my vote the all-important deciding one. It’s not a theory in which I find comfort – what if they all voted Republican?

The reader can see where I am headed: matchpoint scoring is like a democratic election. Just as the Wall Street banker living his golden pavilion penthouse has the same one vote as his doorman, a frightening concept to some, a false hope for others,  so too a humble +50 may carry the same weight as a stupendous +2220, and there are more of the former than of the latter. On every board each individual by his actions ‘votes’ for the best score. Some make a bad choice, some make a good choice – usually those whose actions closest conform to reality. Your score is determined by where you sit in reference to those diverse outcomes. It is normal to lie above the majority of the players who are worse players than you are, and below the majority of those who are consistently luckier. In other words, most of us belong to the middle class. The process is subject to random fluctuations, but over several boards an averaging process takes effect, and one will normally arrive at the appropriate standing in the end. If one makes consistently sound decisions one can expect to do well. Sometimes the worst pair wins the session, but seldom does the best pair come in last. There is a distinct bias towards excellence.

In the previous blog I described how my partner played in 2 slam contracts and scored tops. In the end we achieved a mere 45% result overall. Terence Reese once warned against being overly concerned with pairs who outscore the field on isolated boards – these are not the most dangerous rivals, he noted. The best pairs work hard for their average plus scores and let the tops take care of themselves. The so-called swinging pairs give away as much as they steal. That being said, it can be annoying if a pair does the right thing against you when most of the field gets it wrong. Here is an example.

 

As he put down the dummy, Roy commented, ‘I know we have a 4-4 fit, but with 29 points you will usually score the same number of tricks in no trumps’. How true, as on a normal diamond lead Ewa had no trouble scoring 11 tricks to share a top with one other pair. All others were in 4♠ scoring the same 11 tricks. To add insult to injury, the spades split badly. Well, one might think that it was unlucky for us to play this particular hand on this particular round, but that would be wrongheaded. We should accept there is a great deal of randomness in the game, and not only in the lie of the cards. It is a game of probabilities in which good and bad things happen at random beyond our control.

As Nietzsche noted, winners don’t believe in luck. Some losers bemoan the effect of chance. We hear statements like, ‘if I could exchange the ♦7 in dummy with the ♦2 in my hand, I would have made it,’ or, ‘you were lucky dummy came down with such good trumps.’ Such statements border of self-pity. Why should we expect justice on every hand? The fact is that randomness is an essential feature of environment in which we operate. The player who acts against the field may gain on any particular hand, much to our annoyance, but by acting in this manner he gives us a chance at an undeserved bonus.

Defensive Signal
The killing opening lead has been made the subject of 2 books by David Bird and Taf Anthias which provide a survey of results from computer generated hands. Which lead is best when playing the hands double dummy? Of course, there are cases where the standard opening lead will not prove best. The idea is that by studying these exceptions a player may gather a feel for when on opening lead to depart from the norm. As one of our club members remarked, ‘how can you tell when partner has made an unusual lead?’ This gets to the heart of the matter of informing partner.

The common approach is to plug away unimaginatively on defence doing nothing unusual. Most likely there will be others doing the same. By falling in with the majority of players with your cards, you ensure a score somewhere in the middle.  Ayn Rand worshippers might consider this a major flaw in the matchpoint approach because it bears the taint of socialism. One doesn’t deserve a reward just because one has plodded along within the guidelines of mediocrity. Those who deserve reward are those who separate themselves from the masses. That’s the elitist creed as practiced by the Masterminds.

The Mastermind prefers an active approach where pressure is placed on the apparent weak spots, which Bird and Anthias attempt to reveal. Most players realize that if their partners must carry the bulk of the defensive load, it behooves them to try to cater to partner’s best assets on the opening lead. It may be the last time they will be on lead, so they try to make the best of it. Players generally realize that if they have most of the missing HCPs, they should be alert to the possibility of an unusual lead. On the following deal just in case partner had nodded off I left nothing to chance.

 

After 2 passes North opened 1♣, so it was probable that she and I held the majority of the points between us. I estimated that our partners most probably held 6 HCPs each. As you see this guess was accurate. I bid 1♦ as lead directing. Holding the vast majority of points I could direct the defence from an advantageous position. Of course, if partner had a major to show he could still bid it. The ♦9 was dutifully led, taken by the ♦K. Do you see any hope of beating 1NT?

At the table I switched to the ♥J. Declarer ducked, a mistake, so continuing with the ♦A and a low diamond was all that was needed to sever his communications and achieve the excellent 75% score for +100. What do you think went wrong?

Like Hamlet with dagger poised above the back of Claudius knelling in prayer I began to have second thoughts. Partner had signaled encouragement, so could it be he had excellent hearts? I wavered, then continued foolishly with ♥A and the ♥2. This had the opposite effect to the one intended, as South, thus helped, scored up 8 tricks, a top for him, a bottom for us.

Signals generated by selective carding are the way defenders exchange information. In the absence of a clear signal a defender plans according to what is most probable given the information contained in the bids, what he sees in his hand, and what has emerged in the dummy. It is my contention that partner should not have signaled encouragement with ♥Q75, no matter what he thought I held (he envisioned AJTx). One should indicate what one has, not what one hopes partner has. When the ♥J held the trick, it was obvious West held a high honor in hearts, but there was no need to rush to cash it. So, unless the message is urgent, a signal shouldn’t tell partner something he knows already.

A redundant signal contains very little information. It is like coming home dripping wet and telling one’s wife, ‘I forgot my umbrella.’ Maybe she’ll say, ‘oh, is it raining?’ but an understanding wife will say, ‘Stay there and I’ll bring down some dry clothes before you catch your death of cold.’ A good partner is like that. They can skip the hot soup bit.

One further thought on this hand: it shows I am not a true Mastermind. The 1♣ bid is the most suspect of opening bids.  Rather than thinking defensively from the start, I should have bid 1NT without a club stopper and let the opponents worry about the defence. Scoring 120 our way would have tied for top. Truly, it’s a bidder’s game, besides which it is easier, and sometimes merciful, if one player takes on the heavy burden of worry for both. One head is better than two, as the errors are reduced at least by half.