Let’s chat about reputations.
Let’s start with me. We haven’t met but I’d really like you to think that I’m cool, maybe a little naughty. That all the tatty dark t-shirts and black filthy eye make-up means I might be a right laugh, a fun person to have a night out with. That I probably stay out late, hammering on the piano in a private members’ club at midnight while necking vodka. That’s certainly the vibe I’m trying to give off.
I can tell you now I’m none of those things.
Bridge’s rep, you could say, is also all wrong, a bit of a smokescreen. When I tell people I started playing in my 20s they look at me suspiciously. They think I might have got the right word but the wrong meaning. Do you mean you like to do gymnastics and create a bridge with your back after a couple of glasses of wine with the dancers from Strictly? Are you talking about extraordinary feats of civil engineering? Do you prefer a suspension, a truss or a cantilever?
When bridge the card game is mentioned it seems to conjure up for people images of old people, reading glasses round their neck, blanket on their lap, playing with a thimble of wine and some Ritz crackers. It’s just not true. Bridge is – and this is a massive statement but I’m sticking by it – simply the greatest game in the world. It’s not complicated, you don’t have to be clever, you don’t need to be good at maths (I’m numerically dyslexic, ask me to repeat a four-digit number back to you and I’ll throw up on myself in panic) and you definitely don’t need to be old.
The game consists of two parts – the bidding and the playing. I don’t know if you like spy stories, unpicking clues. I’m not sure if you fancy the idea of being Poirot or Columbo for an evening, if you inhaled Agatha Christie novels, but if this ticks any of your boxes then you’re going to absolutely adore the first round. No, you don’t have to dress up, it’s not a murder mystery party, no one needs to come to the table dressed as Colonel Mustard. Bidding is like being Bond (but less misogynistic and less interested in killing) as you and your bridge partner try to get to the perfect bid.
You go back and forth, you’re talking to each other using only two words – for example, ‘three hearts’ or ‘four clubs’ – you can’t give your hand away but through this coded chat you just might be able to work out if you can win this round. I’m not exaggerating when I say this is tense but terrifically addictive. There is no such thing as a bad hand in bridge. Whatever hand you’re dealt you can handle – either by winning your bid or taking your opponents down. This is slow, it’s stimulating, it’s nail biting and you know that feeling before someone you really fancy kisses you? The butterflies and slight giddiness? It’s like that. But there’s no rejection, plus you’re sitting down with snacks. Immediately better.
You find your bid. Everyone exhales. The next part is the play and this is nerve-wracking and completely exhilarating in equal measure. One of you will play, your partner’s hand will be down on the table and here’s the rub, the nugget, the zinger, you’re a team. It is official bridge practice to say ‘Good luck, partner’ when you lay down your cards and your partner replies with a ‘Thank you, partner.’ Now, I don’t want you to panic, you don’t have to bow, you don’t have to say it loudly but this really is the absolute joy of the game. The key word here is ‘partner’. Without wanting to sound like a Spice Girl, two really do become one. You might be playing, your partner might be playing but you are doing it together. You don’t win by yourself and, rather magically, you don’t lose by yourself in bridge. Of course if you play particularly badly you feel sad about letting them down but you’re not abseiling down a crevice in a torrential downpour, it’s not life or death, it’s just cards and they understand.
Bridge is about communication, it’s about linking in with each other’s head, it’s about using a part of your brain that is often (in my case, always) dormant. It is easily the sexiest thing you can do on a night out. The thrill is seeing your cards, the flirtation is the bidding and then the build-up comes to the fore with the play.
Bridge is not stuffy, it’s not for the over-70s. Find a bridge club and just start. If you don’t love it after the first session I’ll eat my Columbo hat. People talk about endorphins being released during exercise? This is a brain workout and you’ll go to bed higher than a kite. Much better than actually getting high at the Groucho.