My card-playing career and that of my sister started when we were very small and our father, who was in the Navy and loved cards, taught us to
play a game he called "Fizzo". In reality it was poker and my sister and I were probably the only five and seven year olds on the block who could knock your socks off at five-card stud or blackjack. Over the years, I
learned to play other card games. In college I became addicted to Spades, often playing in the dorm from midnight until the sun came up, which explains the grades I took home. But I was good at it.
Then came bridge, my
all-time favorite card game. It combined skill, luck and rules more complicated than the instructions on an Easy-Bake Oven, so naturally I was hooked.
When I was in the learning stage, I was playing with a group of people
that included two who knew what they were doing and two -- myself and another girl -- who hadn't a clue. So our friends thought it funny to make stuff up. We, of course, didn't know you really weren't supposed to stand up and crow
three times like a rooster and run around the table backwards whenever you had more than 17 points. But we did it because, they said, we had a "blevo". There was a lot more nonsense like that, but eventually we discovered the real
rules and enjoyed our foray into the game.
I will never forget picking up a hand once when I was a rookie that was every bridge player's dream. It was a "lay down" -- a hand that would take every single trick. I picked up
my cards and, unaware it was an incredible hand, tried to figure out how to bid it. Another player, knowing my rookie status, came over and looked over my shoulder to assist me. I remember him saying, "Lay it down guys. She's got
you."
Then he shook his head and said mournfully, "I've been playing this game for forty years and never got a hand like that."
As my bridge prowess progressed, I formed friendships with two other avid players.
Alas, we could never find a steady fourth and would often call total strangers to play if we'd heard they liked the game. It says something about bridge players that many of them would come over and play with us, three total
strangers with a passion for the game.
Hearts was also a good card game that I enjoyed and excelled at playing. My sister and I were both excellent heart players and when we teamed up we were almost unbeatable. We went
through a time when we would play against our father, who was the world's worst loser.
I remember one stellar occasion when my sister and I, both adults at the time, were waxing Dad and another relative and Dad was growing
more and more sullen as the afternoon wore on. He took to challenging us to "Shoot the Moon" -- and we would do it. Each hand found him more and more irritable, but he refused to quit until he'd beaten us. My sister and I
eventually got together in the bathroom and agreed to throw the game, let him win and be done with it.
We did and he crowed and preened until he was insufferable. Dad was not only not a good loser...he also wasn't a good
winner.
