Gramma won the gold medal at Seniors Card Olympics in the mid 70s, so I’m from a rich lineage of card sharps. We all learned Kings on the Corner from her and won many a nickel while we were growing up. Thing is, my card experience never extended beyond that and I’ve always wanted to see if I could tap into her love of cards. Why not try Bridge?!
It had me remembering that, around the time Gramma was receiving her medal, an old friend of mine was getting busted by his mom for having a joint in his room. “You shouldn’t knock it if you haven’t tried it,” he lamented, in the age-old argument of teenagers. So she did – and she loved it! So much so that he rolled a joint every week thereafter for her and her Bridge Club to smoke when they gathered at her house on Tuesday mornings. Not sure if I can include this paragraph in the paper, but it’s legal now so I’ll give it a go!
The theme that keeps coming to me is that Bridge is more than shuffling a few cards around. Some of these Bridge Clubs have been going on for half a century, so it seems like a community to me. Time to give it a go, I figured, but then I made the mistake of googling if I could teach myself how to play. Lots of intimidating information blew back at me.
Like, there’s a self-learning site called No Fear Bridge. I wasn’t afraid until that came up. But the warnings kept coming: It represents a significant challenge to learn well; complex bidding systems and strategic thinking required; rules and partner communication are most difficult. But ‘the reward of learning Bridge is the deep intellectual challenge and social connection it offers’. That sounds better. Also ‘playing Bridge is not only fun, it’s challenging and can help seniors keep their brains sharp.’ Bonus!
But then came the prompts and rules: Motivate yourself; develop your trick-taking skills; plan the play as declarer; continue the auction; evaluate your hand. Whoa, this didn’t seem like something I could absorb by myself. Time to cross the bridge to an in-person game. Off to Wednesday afternoon Seniors Drop In Bridge I go. Hi Ho.
It was very quiet when I entered, although I had phoned ahead with the explanation of my quest. But then it stayed sort of quiet and serious, so it wasn’t about me. A chair had been placed alongside one of the five tables for me, as quietly indicated by a man who quickly gestured to it as he declared ‘redouble’ to the three others at the table. I quietly took position and found, from my vantage point, that no one looked like they were having fun at all.
I must be making them nervous, I figured, when not one of them glanced my way let alone offered me a smile of welcome. With military focus and minimal movements they watched the table, upon which very little was happening. There were a few additional monosyllables uttered and more time went by, and then all at once they were released from the Bridge grip and relaxed with smiles and pleasant (although still quiet) greetings to me. One of the ladies leaned over and asked if I needed any explanation and I quickly said no. Like, where on earth would she start?
They seemed to be hunkering back down, so I thanked them and made my way to the person who had caught my eye from the little kitchen where she was preparing coffee for the hardworking players. “Have fun?” she asked. “Um,” I answered, not wanting to be rude. I did thank her for opening the latch to the inner chamber for me, though. What a long tunnel of distance separated my Kings on the Corner experience from the depth and reverence these people were engaged in. Gave me yet another level of respect for my dear grandmother.
I did a quick check around the kitchen to see if there were any cookies, or maybe a joint, about to be rolled out. Seeing nothing, though, I quietly thanked her and made my way back home. Funny to walk away from a challenge so early into trying it – I hadn’t even lifted a single card! A poor-mesh, I figure.