The Denver Post - - LIFE & CULTURE - By Frank Ste­wart

I was in the club lounge when cheer­ing erupted from the penny game. “What was that about?” I asked a kib­itzer who came in for a drink.

“Grape­fruit got a taste of his own medicine.”

Grape­fruit, our mem­ber with the mood of an un­tipped waiter, be­rates his part­ners with­out mercy. He had been West, and when East-West got to four spades, South saved at five di­a­monds. Grape­fruit roared out a dou­ble, and all passed.

Grape­fruit led the queen of spades. South took the ace, throw­ing a heart from dummy, and cross­ruffed three spades and three clubs. He cashed the K-A of hearts and ruffed a heart with dummy’s last trump. Hav­ing won 10 tricks, South had the Q-J-9 of trumps, and Grape­fruit had his A-K-10. South then ruffed a club with the queen, and Grape­fruit had to over­ruff and con­cede the 13th trick. Mak­ing five!

Grape­fruit turned as pur­ple as a grape.

“Part­ner, you’re so dumb you’d re­turn a pack of M&Ms be­cause it was full of Ws. With a void in di­a­monds, bid five spades.” “Five spades fails,” East re­torted. “That would be bet­ter than their mak­ing five di­a­monds dou­bled,” Grape­fruit snarled. He told the kib­itzers that East was one neu­ron short of a sy­napse. Ed, our best player, was South. “Par­don me,” he said to Grape­fruit. “You know your side has most of the high cards, and we bid five di­a­monds on dis­tri­bu­tion. If you lead the king, ace and a third trump, I go down three.”

That was when the cheer­ing be­gan, and with good rea­son.

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