A Final Win For The Blue

MODENA, APRIL 17—Pabis-Ticci visited me, and we went fishing in the mountains. As usual, not one trout would bite, but it was a pleasant trip for we were able to walk in quiet woods beside foaming torrents talking calmly and at length.

He is quite determined to retire from competitive bridge and informed me that Forquet, tired of successes and honors, also refuses to continue the strenuous life that he has led as a champion for too many years.

Above a certain level, bridge ceases to be a recreation. For those who become professional players, time is devoted to bridge in the same way that others devote time to their work. Hut for amateurs like the members of the Blue Team, who all have professions which in some cases are very demanding, it is not easy to find time for bridge.

So the verdict is definite: at St. Vincent the Blue Team will fight its last battle. Like Pabis-Ticci and Forquet, I, too, have decided to retire. For the Blue Team and the World Championship belong to an era that is drawing to an end. Perhaps this is the result of too many successes: eight World Championships in nine years, and five European titles.

It is a melancholy thought that this will he the last time. It took six years to build this team: I was appointed in 1950, and our first world title was won in 1957. How did I do it? Good luck and perseverance were needed.

First, I tried to create a team spirit, to develop a mystique, to establish a legend. Then I was careful to recruit only players who got along well with each other. There have been, perhaps, better individual Italian players than some members of the Blue Team, but I believe that including such a player would have cost us more in harmony, understanding and unity than we could have gained in technique.

In moments of crisis—and we had such moments in Como in 1958, in St. Vincent in 1963, as well as a very black Tuesday in New York in 1959—never a word was spoken that might have injured either our friendship or our fraternal spirit. When one player made a historic blunder, I saw, unbelievably, that his partner was trying to convince the culprit that he would have done exactly the same in his shoes. On two occasions, in New York 1957 and Buenos Aires 1961, when the title was virtually won, two pairs urged me to allow the third pair to play the last session so as to receive the final applause.

ST. VINCENT, APRIL 25—This year five teams are competing: Holland, Thailand, Venezuela, North America and our Blue Team. The Americans are, in my opinion, the strongest opposition. There are two exceptional individuals, Mathe and the Canadian Murray. Each has a perfect partner who is both skillful and disciplined. A great partnership does not consist of two stars who may tear each other's hair, but of a star and a second actor.

In addition they have Rubin and Feldesman, who, to the best of my knowledge, are as good as the others. This makes up three pairs—not two or one and a half, as on some previous occasions—that can play as well as the best pairs of the Blue Team.

Moreover, they want to win. We only wish to. This is the Blue Team's mood on the eve of the Championship. A tired Avarelli is contemplating his imminent promotion to section president of the county court. Our Walter is a leading figure in the Italian magistracy, and when he becomes president, bridge will be a pleasant and distant memory.