Auction high-lights

Preface

The world moves fast, and the Auction world is not a step behind the rest of it. There is needed, therefore, a further chronicle of the recent growth and development of the game. If you want to be up-to-date, your Auction, like your motor-car, must be "this year's model."

It gives me distinct pleasure to be able to say that in these pages I do not find myself obliged to alter, or contradict, a single statement made in either of my former books, The Fine Points of Auction Bridge, and The Development of Auction Under the New Count. Numerous questions were under discussion when I wrote them; but, in each instance, I was sufficiently fortunate to take a position which time has justified, and from which there has been no occasion to retreat. Nor do I repeat here any of the information which I have given before. I merely record the growth of Auction and the additional matter which a year has brought forth. My previous books form the base of which this is the superstructure.

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IV

Preface

Much of my material has already appeared in The New York Times. The test-hands have been sent me from all parts of this country and several of them came from Europe. I have selected those which have aroused the greatest interest and discussion amongst readers of The Times on both sides of the ocean.

To the best of my knowledge, this is the first book to treat of " Nullos. " " Nullos " form the latest and most absorbing question in the Auction world to-day, and the demand for " a book about them" would, in itself be sufficient reason for the presentation of this little volume.

F. L

Contents

CHAPTER

I. LATEST DEVELOPMENTS

II. NULLOS

Chapter I

Two great questions have recently shaken the Auction world. Taken in chronological order, they are " High Spades " and " Nullos. " Placed in accordance to the degrees of their importance, I should unhesitatingly reverse that order.

To the fascinating subject of " nullos, " I shall devote a later chapter. "High spades' ' I have already discussed in an earlier book, but I have a few additional words to say. By "high spades, " I mean all spade-bids higher than two — "three spades," "four spades," "five spades," "wsix spades," and "seven spades."

It is obvious, at the outset, that such bids are, of necessity, false bids. No sane person would bid three, four, five, six, or seven spades, and mean what he said. If he had a good spade-

i suit, he would, of course, be bidding it as "royals." The high-spade bids are therefore a system of set artificial bids.

The bid of "one spade," to show a poor hand, is a necessary result of the dealer's forced bid. If he must bid, and cannot bid, it would be ridiculous to demand that he bid legitimately. If he does not hold the material for a legitimate bid, he certainly cannot make one. By forcing him to bid on a hand which does not warrant it, we drive him to the only defense possible, — a bid which is the lowest one he can possibly make, which shows on its face that it means nothing (else he would bid "a royal") , and which gives his partner the least possible difficulty in extricating him. As long as the dealer's forced bid remains, the bid of "one spade" on a poor hand must also remain. It is not illegitimate; it is merely defensive.

The bid of "two spades" has existed as long as Auction. It was a necessity under the old count, and became too much a matter of habit to be dropped when we adopted the new count. Although I do not use it, and do not consider it necessary any longer, yet I should never dream of trying to dislodge it from its vantage-place in the affections of Auction players. I shall devote a later chapter to its proper use. // is 9 according to my opinion, the only conventional call for which there is the slightest excuse.

Long ago, the great game of Whist was nearly strangled by the complicated " systems' ' put forward by various would-be authorities. Nothing but a strong reversion toward simplicity saved it. Artificiality almost dealt its death-blow. Let us not deliver Auction into the hands of the Philistines!

Three months prior to the launching of the tabulated " high-spade' ' bids, several of those bids came to me from a source entirely different from the one which eventually sponsored them. They were told me more as a joke than as anything else ; the men were using them occasionally at the clubs, but laughing while they used them. I mentioned them to my classes and in the columns of The Times , but not seriously — because I did not consider them a thing to recommend. I have never changed my mind about that!

I am told that several years ago, the exact "five-spade" bid of to-day (when bid over an adverse suit-bid) made its first appearance in a book of the day. It was tried as long ago as that, evidently found wanting, and abandoned!

In playing with persons from other countries, I find constant relief and approval when I say that

I play entirely without artificial conventions. It would be impossible to establish any one artificial system universally; if one is permitted, thousands may arise. A couple of hours' conversation on the subject of "systems" would not be too much to establish a mutual comprehension between two prospective partners who had never met before, and who came from different localities. Is that desirable?

It is not my intention to explain all the " high-spade" bids here; I have done that in a previous book. The players who sponsor them do not stop at high spades. They have also an elaborate system of suit-bids — showing combinations that call for opening-bids of one, two, and three, respectively. Taking it all in all, there are seventeen artificial conventions. Seventeen totally unnecessary burdens to carry (for who will deny that good team-work existed between partners before these conventions arose?)! Seventeen stumbling-blocks placed in the path of sane and natural bidding! And with no ultimate change of results to warrant them! If four players all use these conventions, they cannot all play more hands by this combining of cards. If one pair of partners gets one desirable declaration as the result of a jack-suit "call," their adversaries will capture the next desirable declaration by precisely the same means. Thus everything is equalized, the Mecca is not attained, and the ultimate result remains the same though the beauty of the game is lost in attaining it,

I have seen players who thought themselves extremely important and well-posted because they knew all these seventeen conventions. Why? I learned them in a half -hour; any average player can do the same. Can you not commit a poem to memory? Or a r61e in a play? Or a set form of rules on any subject? I am sure you have all done that many times and thought nothing of it. I can play "high spades' ' at one table half the evening, and then go for the other half to another table and dispense with them and be glad of the change. It is like saying your little prearranged speech or poem, or not saying it. That is all!

I have spoken of "capturing desired declarations' ' by making conventional "calls" on jack-suits; those are the happy occasions when your partner's hand fits your demands and he responds as you desire. But think, oh think, of those awful (and numerous) times when his hand does not fit ! When he has absolutely no material on which to respond, yet does not dare to pass! Those are the times, the awful times, when the fallacy of the conventions is shown up.

Suppose you have six spades to the jack and but one other possible trick in your hand; I say that it is far safer to bid "a spade," than to call for royals by bidding "four spades." With a hand such as yours, your partner must have general strength, or a good suit, to get you out of your call (by which you are committed to a contract for four-odd tricks) . If he has general strength, or a good suit, let him be the one to make the declaration. If he has neither, you are both in a box, and put there by your opening declaration. Oh, the "calls" that I have seen fail, provided the adversaries have had sense enough to pass!

There is the crux ! No adversary should ever be sufficiently obliging as to bid against a conventional call. Let the partner of the conventional bidder be the one to relieve the situation! Sometimes it does not inconvenience him, and then the adversaries can bid later. Sometimes it inconveniences him seriously — and that is the adversaries' chance for penalties. Never bid against an adverse conventional bid. Wait till the partner has lifted that burden!

The success of conventional bids depends largely on the bids of the adversaries. If each player is so anxious to bid that he would rather mention a little two-penny suit (by which he may manage to score six, or twelve), than leave his adversary "in" with a false bid, then the conventional bids are not a serious inconvenience to their makers and to the partners of those makers. But suppose a dealer opens with a conventional call on a jack-suit; suppose the adversaries hold all the high cards in that suit and every other, and are blessed with sense enough to hold their tongues ! Then what about the dealer and his partner?

The success of conventional bids depends largely upon the inability of the adversaries to hold their tongues. Grant them the wisdom to do this, and you number the days of the conventional bid!

Let me illustrate by a few particular instances. Some show how dangerous, and others how unnecessary, are conventional calls.

Z dealt and made the royal-call of "four spades, " on this hand:

That, you see, is a perfect royal-call — if you use calls: six spades to the jack, and an outside ace. It is the kind of hand that conventional bidders consider "too good to waste. "

A was wise enough to "pass" on these cards :

A could bid "a royal, " or he could bid "a no-trump" — but why should he? All the conventional bidders I have met would take it for granted that any player holding A's cards would bid against a royal-call. This A did n't. He saw Z with a ten-trick contract that he could n't possibly keep; to beat it was worth fifty a trick for all tricks over three; to bid royals was to make nine a trick for every trick over six. The thing is not to play the most hands — it is to make the most you can on your cards. A might have doubled, but it would have been useless, for no conventional bid stands. He had the chance of his life — he took it and left the responsibility up to Y.

Y held this lovely combination (and his bid was demanded) :

Was n't that an enviable position? Anything he attempted was doomed to failure.

If Y allowed "four spades' ' to stand A-B could make 400. That, you see, is better than bidding and going game — even with a slam! It is better than two games — 150 points better than a rubber !

And if Y made a bid, as of course he must, it would be heavily defeated. B's hand, you see, held these cards :

Suppose Y tried a bid of "two clubs." B could double and make 500 — the value of two rubbers. Hearts and diamonds would also be disastrous, and Y could hardly be expected to io Auction HigH-Lig'Hts

say " a royal" without a spade in his hand. If he did, B might bid and relieve the situation for him ; but if B passed A could break the rule against doubling one-bids — he could double the royal, because he could see that Z-Y were in a desperate strait and could be defeated at anything.

I have repeatedly seen similar situations! Try passing the high conventional bids when your adversaries make them; let your own bid wait over till the second round, no matter how good it looks; if the third hand bids you will have your chance to bid over him, and the third hand is absolutely forced to bid.

One of the worst points about conventional bids is that they absolutely presuppose luck — the luck that your partner may hold what you want him to hold. Granting luck, you can win with high spades or without them; failing luck, you are far safer without them.

Here is another hand that shows how easily the "five spade' ' bid can be dispensed with. The dealer opened with " one no-trump/ ' on the following hand :

£ AQJ764 AKQ

* AK

Latest Developments II

Second hand and third hand passed, and fourth hand said "two hearts." This killed no-trump for the dealer, because he did not stop hearts. The stock conventional bid for a situation where you want to play no-trumps but fail to stop the adversary's suit is "five spades." To begin with, the bid is inadequate, — which only goes to show that it is impossible to form a table of stock bids that will always bridge over difficult situations; you might as well stop before you begin. But this dealer did not use conventional bids anyhow; he would not have bid "five spades" even if it had been possible. See how he handled the matter! He said "three clubs," — showing that he was perfectly willing and able to play that bid, but that the heart-bid had killed his no-trumper. But the point is that his bid was legitimate and meant what it said; he could be left with it, and could play it.

Second hand passed again, and the dealer's partner, having the hearts twice stopped, overcalled with "two no-trumps." Thus perfect concerted action was attained independently of any false bids.

This is only one of the many positions that may arise. But to all of them there are solutions that will be very evident and very satisfactory to the expert player, — and which will give far more scope to his subtlety than will the use of false bids made in set forms of words quite foreign to the meaning they convey.

I say that there are always ways to solve these difficulties; ways that are delightfuly delicate and that require thought and skill. In comparison with them the dull use of a set speech prepared by some one else and repeated like a parrot seems singularly primitive, artificial, and devoid of personal thought.

There is another point about conventional calls; they give a " photograph' ' of the bidder's hand to two adversaries and only one partner. The advantage of this specific information to clever adversaries, who are wise enough to pass and to take advantage of what they have been told, is sometimes very great. Witness this proof:

Z dealt and made the "royal-call" of "four spades." A was wise enough to pass; he held some clubs and a singleton king of spades. Y (third hand) could n't pass, yet he did n't care to bid royals; he held the three smallest spades in the pack, and knew that his partner lacked the ace and king, possibly even the queen. He had a much better line of hearts than his partner had of royals, and his hearts were better as trumps than as side suit, because they were long and scattered; with a short, compact suit of hearts, Y would have used them as a side suit to the royals ; but with six scattered hearts that dropped from the ace-jack, he felt that they should be trumps. He bid " two hearts."

B sat fourth, with the king — queen — small of hearts, and four spades headed by the ace and queen. He knew that Z must have made his opening "call" on a jack-suit, and he reasoned that if Y had held an honor in the suit he would have responded to the call. He therefore placed the king in A's hand — and rightly. He led a small spade to that king, a thing he would never have dreamed of doing, failing Z's opening calL A took with his singleton king and led a club, which B took with the ace. B then led his ace and queen of spades, on which A discarded two losing diamonds, first the nine and then the six, to show he had no more. B immediately led a low diamond which A trumped and led trumps through Y, enabling B to make both his king and queen. Thus the bid of " two hearts " was set, simply because of the information furnished to B by Z's opening royal call. It positively denied the king of spades. Had Z opened with "a spade," A would have passed and Y would have bid "one heart," but B would never have led as he did. No one leads a small card from ace- queen and two small as an original lead.

14 Auction Hi^K-LigKts

Failing that lead, A would never have made his singleton king and would not have been able to discard his two losing diamonds.

That, you see, is the reverse side of the picture. By endeavoring to give his partner specific information (that proved valueless after all), Z gave his adversaries a tremendous advantage.

But it is in the name of sportsmanship that I voice my chief objection to set calls. From time immemorial it has been conceded that in a card game " specific information by word of mouth' ' should be barred. Such information is supposed to be given by the play of cards; that calls for skill, and it also demands that the necessary cards shall be held. There is always the sporting chance that they are lacking, and then it is a play of wits to counteract that lack. Nothing but sudden paralysis of the tongue could inconvenience the player who announces his combinations by speech.

Of course, when you lead a king it means you hold the "ace, the queen, or both." But that information is given by the play of cards. There is also the chance that you are leading " short. " Of course, again, when you bid "a heart," your information is conveyed by word of mouth, but it is not specific. Your suit may be headed by the ace, or king, or both, or (possibly) neither;

it may be short and strong, or long and scattered. You are giving no " photographs. " And you are able and willing to play your bid!

How would you like a system by which a bid of u one heart," would mean " partner, I am headed by the ace, " and a bid of "a heart," would mean " partner, I am headed by the king?" How would that appeal to your sporting instincts? Yet it would be quite fair if all four players understood the signal. But would n't it strike you as rather flat? That is the way conventional bids always strike me.

I ranged myself against them in the beginning, and have never had the slightest cause to regret my position. They are played locally, — notably in the city of their birth. I do not believe that they will ever be universal, or even that they will spread greatly. I know a number of players who were rather taken with them at first, who have now discarded them entirely. The proportion of well-known experts who are ranged against them is tremendous. At one time I considered them a serious menace, but they worry me no more.

At the time when the discussion of conventional bids was raging, I was opposing them in the columns of The New York Times. I received hundreds of letters congratulating me on the position I had taken, and hundreds of criticisms of the new bids. One person after another, one letter after another, reiterated the opinion : "That is n't the way to play Auction !" I have chosen a few extracts from these numerous letters which I append here.

The first was from Boston: "If ever there was a timely discussion invited, it is the question of the new form of bidding. At our club it is difficult to tell whether one is playing Auction or football — the signals gradually getting to be about equal. I strongly advocate the cutting out of all signals. ... It is up to you and the other Auction writers to advise decisive action now, as otherwise you will have independent rules made by clubs. In our club we are considering the posting of a notice that signal bids shall not be allowed. All our best players are disgusted with the way the game is going, and feel disposed to cut away from the rule writers. Therefore, help the cause along!"

This came from New York: "I was very much interested in your discussion of the proposed spade conventions in The Times. I am heartily in sympathy with your attitude in the matter, and my vote on the matter is the same as yours.

From New Bedford : "You may put down our circle here, 'as agreeing with you about the high-spade bids. We have used four of them constantly and while they averaged fairly well, not sufficiently well to tack on to a game that is sufficient unto itself. If Auction keeps advancing (?) I, for one, am going back to tiddledywinks. . . . The more there is of it, the less there is to it."

From Connecticut: "You are quite right. Discard the whole outfit of conventions, and make it a real game. "

From New Jersey: "Our coterie has been testing the high-spade bids, and beg to agree with you, 'dispense with all of them.' Your lucid discussion might well tempt to that final verdict/ '

This correspondent went on to speak of the frequent inconvenience caused to the partner of the player using the high-spade calls.

11 1 desire to submit what I consider the logical development of the conventional spade bid; if this is to remain a feature of the game, the latter is surely in its infancy, and it were well for us to hasten the evolution to its destined issue.

"There are five suits. If we have a 'make* in any of these, we declare it. But if we have not, we may have an 'assist' for one of them; or we may have a hand that is an ' assist ' for two of the five . . . That is, we may hold, besides definite makes in the five suits, any one of fifteen possible combinations. If we discard the club assist, and the diamond assist, as being of least value, we still have thirteen different hands requiring signals, or conventional bids. . . . Thirteen, or even fourteen, conventional bids! This cannot fail to satisfy the most ardent supporter of the new game. I almost fear that the advancing of this suggestion may cause the more fanatical devotees of the conventions to seize upon it seriously as the ultimate solution of their problem.

"The game of Auction is much too interesting to be mutilated in its simplicity by a complicated system of 'wigwagging' — a system evolved for the purpose of allowing 'better' bidding! How absurd! And if it is logical to have such a system it is perfectly logical to develop it as above, to cover all possible combinations. I really wish that my suggestion would be seized upon, because I believe that it would soon show the absurdity of conventional bids, and cause them to die a natural (but accelerated) death.

"Perfection in combining hands is easily attained by laying all the cards on the table, and the conventional bid is a positive step toward that ideal (?)!"

Isn't that delightful? And logical? And conclusive?

I could continue indefinitely to pile testimony upon testimony against the use of the high-spade bids, but I will close with what I consider one of the best quotations I have ever seen on this subject. It was in a booklet sent me by a member of the National Club, Toronto:

"David Harum's maxim, i It is a good idea to be willing to let the other fellow make a dollar once in a while/ is as useful in Auction bridge as it is in a horse trade. "

Chapter II

Auction has justly been called "a game of aces and kings." No matter what degree of skill you may possess, you cannot win if Fate insists on giving you all the poor cards ; you may see the victories going to players whom you know to be your inferiors, and you will have to admit that all the skill in the world is no match for luck. Of course, with skill you make more on good cards and lose less on bad ones ; but you cannot beat luck.

This is discouraging, and it is the one blot on an otherwise perfect game. For some time we have felt that there was a certain lack in what has been aptly called "the defensive side of the game." We have longed for a means to discount luck and to give skill its proper chance.

Of all non-athletic games, I suppose that Chess is the most perfect for the reason that it is ioo per cent, skill and no per cent. luck. It depends on no throwing of dice or dealing of

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cards, no outside element of chance exists and the outcome of the game lies solely and entirely with the skill of the players.

Roulette, on the other hand, is ioo per cent luck and no per cent skill; but I do not think that any one would claim much mental stimulus for Roulette;- excitement there is, naturally, and the chance of " getting something for nothing, " and that is all.

I once read an article by an Englishman who attempted to place the percentage of luck and skill in various games. To Baccarat he allowed 2 per cent skill to 98 luck; and for " Whist, Bridge, and all their children/ ' the percentage was placed at 20 for skill and 80 for luck. Personally I should place it at 40 for skill and 60 for luck; a few players of my acquaintance (who, by the way, are proverbially good holders), reverse these figures, making it 60 for skill to 40 for luck; and the general run of persons whom I have asked put it at 50 and 50.

In any event, it is certain that the luck percentage is too high ; to spend hours in thought and practice, to use every effort to perfect your game, and then to be forced to yield all your advantage simply because aces and kings refuse to come your way, is extremely discouraging, to put it mildly.

Any innovation which tends to increase the advantage of skill and to decrease the advantage of luck should be welcomed by Auction lovers ; any movement toward equalizing the value of the cards would certainly help to bring the game up to the Chess level.

It has long been apparent that the advantage of good cards over bad ones is the one drawback to Auction. It has been possible to sit an entire evening at an Auction table and never play a hand — when luck has run very badly. Even to the two partners who held all the cards this sort of victory was flat and tame.

Which do you like better, a " pianola' ' hand or a hand where you have to tussle and fight for every point, and where the play of every card is vital? The latter, naturally, if you are a good player and prefer skill to luck. With a long run of pianola hands on your own side (hands that play themselves) , your skill is not demanded and your victory loses its savor. With a long run of such hands against you, there is nothing to do but to allow yourself to be walked over, and your interest naturally flags. It is when the game is "nip and tuck" that every player is keyed up to proper pitch.

Would it be very interesting or very flattering for a tennis expert to win a match from an adversary who had equal skill, but who, in this particular match, was forced to appear with his right arm in a sling and three fingers broken on his left hand?

Would you want to shoot against a man who had a thick bandage over both eyes?

Certainly not. There is no satisfaction in beating a lame man or a cripple in a race. To beat adversaries as well equipped as one's self, by sheer force of skill, is a satisfactory victory.

Does any one question the fact that the new count improved the game inexpressibly, when it brought the suit-values closer together and destroyed the undue advantage of red suits over black ones? Can any one doubt that an innovation that would make, "bad" cards valuable, and leave "good" ones equally so, would bring the game almost to the point of absolute perfection?

And this is precisely what nullos will do. s

They are the greatest equalizers I have ever known. Every time I use them in playing, I hug myself in sheer delight at the beautiful balance of the bidding. It is an artistic triumph. If one side holds all the high cards, and the other all the low ones, both sides are equally advantaged as to bidding; no contracts are captured