My Least Favorite Deal

I'm sure we've all fantasized about being offered a chance to do one thing over again in our life. In my fantasy, when I'm offered this chance, I take out a pencil and paper and scribble down this deal, from the 1982 District 24 Semi-Finals of the Grand National Teams.

Even after a club lead, this contract didn't have much play. But I did envision one layout where I could make it. If West started with ace-seventh of hearts, a heart lead toward dummy would subject him to a Morton's fork. If he hopped, his partner's queen would drop, giving me two pitches for my spades. If he ducked, I could strip the hand and play for a favorable end-position in spades.

Accordingly, I won the first trick with the club ace and led a heart. Mike hopped and played a second heart. What would you do now? Careful. Don't play too quickly.

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"Yeah, right!" I thought. "I'm not falling for that one!" I went up with the king. Ron played low. When I threw a spade, Ron's jaw dropped, and all the kibitzers got up and went over to watch the other match. After we scored down one, Mike said to me, "You and I are both going to have nightmares about this deal for a long time." He had begun with AQxx of hearts, and it hadn't occurred to him that his partner's four club opening might contain a side five-card heart suit.

Yes, I know Mike really couldn't have ace-seventh of hearts, since he hadn't led the ace. But, since it was my only chance, I had to assume he did. And if my assumption was correct, there's no doubt in my mind that Mike would have defended exactly this way, hopping with the ace and playing a second heart to give me a losing option.

There's something weird about playing for a particular lie of the cards, then, when the play goes as it was destined to in that scenario, suddenly switching gears and playing for something else. If I'm going to do that, what exactly was I playing for to begin with?

Still, if I could play this hand over again, I think I'd finesse.