Oh, oh! The Three Gadgeteers were headed this way! I looked to my left and then to my right, hoping to dart anon. But there was no escape. In seconds I was surrounded. "So how was your game?" asked the clumsy one, Al Toews, as he stumbled and bumped against me. "We led the pack until the last three boards," I explained. "Three bottoms and we were out of the top ten." The oldest Gadgeteer, N.T. Thetic (known affectionately as "Pa Thetic") pressed me for details. I tried to duck the question, citing bad luck, but the Gadgeteers would not be dismissed. "Board #28," I started. "LHO opened 1S. Partner made a Michaels overcall of 2S, showing Hearts and a minor. Pass on my right. I held a 10-count with 3 Hearts. I had no way to invite 4H so I jumped there. Unilaterally. Partner held a minimum and the hand was played from the wrong side. Down two, minus 200." "Oh, yes," sympathized the old man, "that's the hand with the Hawaii trump split." "Hawaii?" I asked. "5-0." "Right." The Three Gadgeteers huddled briefly to discuss what had gone wrong on Board #28. "Lover's Leap," pronounced the third Gadgeteer, Ig Noremus. "Pardon me?" I asked, dumbfounded. "It's an integral part of the Michaels Cuebid. After this particular auction, 1S-2S-Pass, an artificial call of 3D should be used to invite 4H. Of course, you don't need 3D as a natural call since you could stop there by starting with 2NT, finding partner with Clubs, and then bidding 3D. And remember: this is only necessary after 1S-2S-Pass; after 1H-2H-Pass you could invite 4S by bidding 3S." "After 1S-2S-Pass-3D-Pass your partner would've stopped in 3H," Mr. Toews contributed. "3H would have been a reasonable result." "Why call it `Lover's Leap'?" I asked. "A bid of 3 Diamonds suggesting a jump to 4 Hearts," explicated Ig Noremus. "Get it?" I got it. And, with the help of a good antiemetic, I hoped to get rid of it. I tried to excuse myself, saying that I was expected in the Hospitality Room. "Board #29?" asked Ig Noremus, brushing off my attempt to flee. "Okay, if you insist. I held:
I opened 1D and partner responded 1S. I figure I'm holding a 2-and-a-half-Spade raise. I know from long and bitter experience that whatever I do here is wrong. If I raise to 2S partner passes with the magic hand that makes 4S. On this hand I made a double raise to 3S and partner passed with a wretched 6-count. Down one. And even with a mediocre hand, say, 8 HCPS, how could partner have evaluated her hand without knowing about my stiff Heart? I guess we were destined--" The Gadgeteers rolled their eyes heavenward, patronizing my obvious ignorance. "The Perverse Reverse," Pa Thetic intoned flatly as the others nodded agreement. "Heck," contributed Ig Noremus, "if you aren't playing Perverse Reverses you aren't playing bridge!" "Explain please," I prompted. "Holding a Natural Reverse, eight or nine running tricks with secondary support for Responder's major or a strong raise of that major Opener uses the Perverse Reverse," explained Pa Thetic. "To do so you would reverse cheaply at the two level. 1D:1S:2H. If Responder is curious she rebids the cheapest unbid step, 2NT in this example. Then you can rebid more or less naturally:
It follows that 1D:1S:3NT denies even secondary support for Spades." "And if Partner isn't interested?" I cross-examined. "She rebids anything except the encouraging 2NT, usually 2S or 3-of-your-minor. Next case." "Hold it," I interjected cautiously, "what if the auction had gone 1D:1H?" "Only a little more awkward," replied Al Toews patiently. "You could rebid 2S, allowing a curious partner to rebid 2NT. Then you can rebid:
Again, it follows that 1D:1H:3H denies a short suit." "Otherwise I'd use this Perverse Reverse thing, right?" I guessed. "Exactly!" chimed Mr. Toews. "And there are similar responses and rebids after 1C:1H or 1C:1S, I suppose." "Right again!" agreed Mr. Thetic. "Well," I said, "thanks for the advice. I'd really love to talk some more but my entire family is in the hospital suffering from infectious hepatitis and--" "They're okay now. We saw them at the shopping centre during the dinner break," said Ig Noremus, exposing my psyche. "Board #30?" "Well, alright. I'm West, holding:
"The age-old question: should I cash my Ace or not? If I do I'm invariably losing a tempo and setting up that whole suit for Declarer. I chose not to cash it. Partner had the KQ. Declarer wrapped up 12 tricks with the Diamond suit wide open." "Triple-A," quoted Pa Thetic cryptically. "Pardon me?" "AAA. As a general rule," Mr. Thetic began, "good players know what they're doing, lesser players don't. Against experts you are better advised to hold onto your Ace, hoping to capture a King with it. Otherwise..." "So what does `AAA' stand for?" I asked naively. "Aces Against Asses," replied Mr. Noremus. I'd have to remember to mark "AAA" on my convention card--if only for the fun of explaining it. "We don't suppose you'll be cashing an Ace against one of our slams," said Mr. Noremus. I felt a strong temptation to blurt out: "I'd break my wrist banging down an Ace against you clowns!" "No. Probably not." The Gadgeteers had me pinned up against the wall now and were about to review our session hand-by-hand. I didn't have time to listen to a complete rewrite of "Bridge Conventions Complete". "Wait a minute!" I exclaimed, pointing over their shoulders, "Wasn't that Edgar Kaplan, editor of the Bridge World magazine?" The Gadgeteers wheeled on their heels and disappeared in search of larger prey. I realize that this was a cheap ploy and that I really should feel guilty about it. So why don't I?