A friend of mine—call him Walter—thought up the idea. One evening several years ago he and I, along with Billy Eisenberg and Billy's girl Barbara, decided to play a few hands of rubber bridge. By the luck of the draw, I cut Billy. Eisenberg and I play bridge professionally, are frequent partners and, at the moment, are members of the U.S. team that holds the world championship. Walter and Barbara are, well, amateurs.
"We need a spot," Walter announced as we sat down. "A handicap of some sort."
"We'll give you 500 points," I told him.
Walter shook his head. "We can think of something spicier than that," he said. He pointed out that in golf, for instance, there are many intriguing handicaps beyond the standard one of so many strokes per nine or 18 holes. He said that Jimmy Demaret, a three-time Masters champion, used to bet that he could beat any member of his Champion Golf Club in Houston while standing on one leg. If a 90s shooter happened to be playing Tom Watson, he might challenge him to a match without handicap strokes, provided that once every hole he could pick up Watson's ball and throw it—anywhere. An 80s shooter might play Watson without the usual handicap, if he could name the club Watson had to hit on every shot—wedge off the tee, driver in a trap, and so on.
"We will play you even," Walter concluded, "but you and Billy may not mention the word spades during the bidding."
My first thought was that Billy and I could probably convert our four spade contracts into three no trump, both game bids, but on reflection I knew that the world was full of this kind of hand:
You hold:
[Ace of Spades]
[King of Spades]
[Queen of Spades]
[8 of Spades]
[7 of Spades]
[6 of Spades]
[Ace of Hearts]
[4 of Hearts]
[9 of Diamonds]
[8 of Diamonds]
[Queen of Clubs]
[7 of Clubs]
[6 of Clubs]
and you find your partner with:
[10 of Spades]
[5 of Spades]
[3 of Spades]
[2 of Spades]
[Queen of Hearts]
[3 of Hearts]
[2 of Hearts]
[7 of Diamonds]
[3 of Diamonds]
[Ace of Clubs]
[King of Clubs]
[5 of Clubs]
[2 of Clubs]