DAILY BRIDGE CLUB

People tend to judge a play by how it turns out: Whatever a play’s merits may be in theory, we are more impressed when it works. Bridge writers aren’t immune: It’s easy to praise a spectacular play that makes a slam.

A friend showed me today’s deal; his partner had been declarer at 6NT. West led a diamond, and South counted 10 top tricks; he needed at least two hearts to have a chance. At Trick Two, South executed a safety play by cashing the ace — and the king fell from East!

Dummy next led a low heart, “rectifying the count” for a squeeze. West won and led another diamond. Declarer took the ace of spades and queen of hearts, two more diamonds and, at the ninth trick, the king of spades. West couldn’t keep all four clubs and a heart, so South made his slam.

It was an impressive exhibition; my friend thought it was column material. Still, I wondered. If East-West had followed low to the ace of hearts, South would have come to his hand to lead a heart to the queen. But if the queen won, South wouldn’t know what to do next: Should he play for a 3-3 heart break or for a squeeze?

South’s “safety play” was wrong. He could instead lead a low heart from dummy, planning to finesse later (and tempting East to put up the king from K-x) or he could come to his hand and lead a heart to the queen. In either case, he could find out whether the hearts were breaking evenly.

Writing about bridge is hazardous. A slam played successfully beckons to a writer like a flower to a bee. But writers can’t be resulters. South dealer

N-S vulnerable