Before I began this write-up, I checked my notes about the regional qualifier for the Grand National Teams in 2014. It recalled to mind what a low period in my life that weekend represented. Part of the explanation had to do with relationships and factors outside of bridge. The rest is undeniable: since I began playing in Flight B, I have never done well in this event, and to say that I have not enjoyed it much is an understatement.

So why not just skip it? If I had to name one important goal for me in bridge, it would be to represent District 25 in the GNT. For players who love team games, this is the big one. I cannot imagine what could impel me to skip it.

The format is a little complicated. There are four separate events. One is open. The Flight A event is limited to players with less than 6,000 points. The ceiling for Flight B is 2,500. The one-day Flight C Swiss is for non-life masters with less than 500 points. The other three flights have some form of a Swiss on Saturday to pare down to the top four teams who compete in semifinal and final knockouts on Sunday.

In my opinion this is the most exciting event on the calendar. It certainly is not, however, the best-attended one. The open flight had ten teams, which was the same number as last year. Winning the open flight is the top prize – at least in terms of team games – offered by the district. The best players always attend, and everyone brings his/her game face. At the national tournament, which will be held in Chicago this summer, the competition in this flight is absolutely brutal.

Flight A this year had only six teams, down from eight in 2014. At least one B player assembled an A team simply because he thought that it would be easier to make it to the second day in A rather than B. He was definitely right.

Fourteen teams competed in Flight B, one fewer than last year. There were a few new faces, but most of them were quite familiar. My teammates had never played in the event before. My partner was Jerry Hirsch, whom I have known from my very first duplicate game. We only play together a few times a year, but we have played every year. Our teammates were Dave Landsberg and Pat Fliakos, friends from the Hartford Bridge Club.

Flight C, in which I made two pretty good runs when I was still wet behind the ears, fielded twenty-nine tables in 2015, five more than last year’s event. The first time that I played in C, we did not do well. However, I do remember that in one round I opened in the fourth seat. The opponents, who had each originally passed, eventually decided that they could make 3NT. I doubled on general principles, and, not too surprisingly, they fell one trick short.

This year my wife Sue was booked for an overload of bridge in Sturbridge. She was scheduled to play in the Rainbow Weekend pairs games on Friday and Saturday as well as the Flight C event on Sunday. I stayed home and washed clothes on Friday.

On Saturday I fixed myself an early lunch of kielbasa dogs and sauerkraut and then headed my vintage Honda east on 190. I arrived well before noon so that I could drop off my camera with Sue. Because of the timing of the events I could not possibly take photos of the winners of the pairs games.

“It was the best of times.” We won our first three matches. In the fourth round we met very familiar opponents – Bud Leese and Bill Nason. I was absolutely on fire. I made two doubled contracts at the five level, and we won the match 35-6. That’s right; at the break we were comfortably in first place.

The four of us made the ten-mile drive to the Friendly’s across the street from the Sturbridge Host Hotel and enjoyed a nice supper. I had the Reuben supermelt, which I highly recommend.

“It was the worst of times.” In the fifth round we faced Cilla Borras’s team, the eventual winners. We missed two slams. One was due to a very uncharacteristic bidding problem on our part. The other one would have gone down on a heart lead. Unfortunately, the player on lead held Kxxxx, a holding from which almost no one would lead against 6♠.

The sixth round was against two players from last year’s winning team, Michael Lieberman and Reid Barton, who play a strong club system. For some reason almost no one in Connecticut plays this system. Jerry and I had discussed a defense against it, but we had never employed it. We had a severe bidding misunderstanding that caused us to miss a game. There were also some problems at the other table.

So, we knew that we needed to win our last round to make the cut. It came down to a 4♠ contract that was bid at both tables. It made if and only if the club suit was broken by the defense. Jerry led the ♣J. I could not blame him. He held ♠ K x x ♥ Q x x ♦Q x x ♣ J 10 x x. Our teammates were also in 4♠, but they went down.

My soul was absolutely crushed. I doubt that I would have felt worse if we had lost all seven rounds.

The drive back to an empty house – Sue was staying at the hotel – made it worse. In the middle of Somers 190 was closed. I was forced to drive south on 83. I know two ways to get from Sturbridge to Enfield, but neither of them involves Route 83. I turned on Field Rd. and sort of groped my way through the dark countryside until I was back on 190 in Somersville. It was extremely aggravating. I almost got T-boned by a car that was hidden behind a snow mountain. The worst aspect of all was that I had forgotten that we were out of beer, and Sue had the Scotch in her hotel room.

It was a close choice between giving my cat Giacomo a solid kick in frustration and inviting him up onto my lap for some feline therapy.

I could not sleep at all. I replayed hand after hand in my head. On Sunday morning I fixed myself another kielbasa dog and then drove back to Sturbridge to snap photos of the winners. At least 190 was open all of the way. The unpredicted snow started at Exit 2 on I-84 and was coming down pretty hard when I walked through the door of the Sturbridge Host.*

I got to say hello to David and Marguerite Levin, friends from the Larry Cohen Holiday Bridge Cruise, who were playing in Flight C.

I kibitzed while Sue and Judy played in the second-to-last round. Sue was already excited about bidding and making a grand slam in a previous round. Sue held 23 HCP, and her partner opened a strong notrump. Somehow, they stopped at six with thirty-eight points at the other table.

The cards were not as good in the round that I watched, but they managed to survive one atrocious 3NT contract, one missed inverted minor raise, and one defensive blunder to win the match by one point.

I then liberated the last Mr. Goodbar and three Hershey’s kisses from the candy bowl, and consumed two or three cups of coffee as I read the March Bridge Bulletin and waited for the three knockouts to end. I took the photos and drove home by myself, hoping for something better than a kielbasa dog for supper.

I have a rather peculiar personality. Only once has a real crisis or tragedy sent me into an extreme funk. At work I was at my best when things went badly. On the other hand, superficial things like football games, bridge tournaments, and, in my younger days, setbacks in intercollegiate debate have repeatedly devastated my spirit and left me an emotional wreck for a day or so.

By Monday morning I was fine and thinking about next year’s team.

* It stopped a few minutes later. I doubt that anyone playing inside realized that it ever snowed.