Bridge has a rather unsavoury disease.
Much like a fungus, the disease has penetrating fungal tentacles that are unseen, below the surface, invisible. Only in particular places and at certain times does the fungal fruit rise to the surface and bloom.
Is the fruit delicious to some, poisonous to others?
Let me describe the nature of this fungal disease:
People that are well to do and that play Bridge, can assume the airs of ‘the intelligent’ – after all financial success in life is generally translated by individuals as being due to an above average intellect. Conversely, the extremely intelligent individuals who play the game, can assume the airs of being well to do. Theirs is a kind of wealth that is widely respected – They are the ones that seem to be able to find those elusive extra tricks that get them top scores at the club.
There is a mutual respect, one for the other. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that in itself. Yet these are the invisible tentacles of the disease. When the tentacles come to fruition there betrays a snobbery – As if there can be nothing else of value.
This is a problem for Bridge.
False Perceptions
In a national U.S. survey carried out by the ACBL in 2005, 34% of those asked from the ages of 55 to 59 said the game was “intellectual” and 20% said it was “too difficult for them”. But I have never viewed Bridge as either too difficult or intellectual… these are just the perceptions that are perpetuated by those running the game. Sure, club bridge is competitive but for most, it is just something that is fun to do with your friends – cards in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
To tell you the truth there is something that really irritates me. It’s the ultra big Bridge clubs. I don’t have a problem with the fact that they do a great job at what they do. What annoys me is that they inadvertently perpetuate poisonous perceptions.
These ultra big clubs mostly are fat cat feeders, skimming off the cream from the comfortably retired. They tend to be situated only in wealthy neighbourhoods. They are invariably run by very accomplished Bridge players. Look… what I am saying here is that it is not difficult taking candy from a candy store. These clubs have no time for narrower profit margins, community outreach, or maybe they just do not have sufficient skills or creativity to market Bridge to those that fall outside their particular class of club player. Why set up a club in a lower part of town if it means charging a fraction of what one can charge at a cosy uptown club?
These places may be friendly, but they can give the impression of being only for a certain type – which happen to be the type that live in the uptown end of the neighbourhood. They do, just fine and dandy thank you very much… and in doing so do little to change false perceptions.
Consider this…
Think of it like this: In the leisure industry, people make a lot of money running 5 star hotels – But note: people also can do very well running campsites (when they now what they are doing and they get it right).
It’s really easy to sign up & your email is safe so you won’t be spammed – I respect your privacy.
I absolutely agree with every point Carolyn Cannan makes. If newcomers learn to play casual bridge first (bad habits learned notwithstanding) an unhappy attempt at duplicate can result in returning to casual bridge for life. It is newcomers who start off by attending formal and serious bridge classes, are turned off by the experience, who not only give up but become walking and talking anti-bridge ads for the rest of their lives scaring off potential players. We’ve all heard them–tried bridge once, it was awful!
I’m taking a copy of this iBridge blog and comments along this weekend–been asked to reassure couple friends of the hostess that bridge is NOT beyond their ability to learn. They’ve been scared to try from what others have said about learning to play. Carolyn supports with recent experience from Britain (carries weight)what I had planned to say:
For gosh sakes, don’t go for formal bridge lessons FIRST!! Get together and learn to play as a foursome, hire a teacher to come IN and coach after a bit, or enlist a good friend. Self-teach via the internet–so many resources there. THEN take some lessons. If teacher is unkind, inflexible–find another.
Social snobs–now that’s something I’d not considered–it’s been my anecdotal observation that social snobs in the States more likely to exist amongst the social bridge groups than the ACBL and other formal bridge clubs. But then I’ve never really tried duplicate bridge.
David Scott in his doctoral dissertation on the differences between social and serious bridge (early 90s) writes about players who ended up playing duplicate only BECAUSE they couldn’t seem to get into any of the town’s social bridge clubs. I’m not sure that’s always snobbery–at home social clubs are often decades old, and replacements (as people die or move away) are usually friends of existing members–which means a newcomer to town has a hard time finding a place.
I understand the complaints with respect to snobbery, but if you are a good player you can get along anywhere. Work your game and then worry about with whom you play. But no matter your skill, dress as if you have been there before.
I like the suggestion that you can up-dress to fit in… However, I know of a ‘good player’ who, dressed in a suit and tie following work, was made to feel as though they were not wanted at a club by some snooty players. I suppose, being very much a social game, one must expect to deal with all manner of social situations. But like all social activities, it is, or should be at any rate, a game for all classes and without prejudice.
I don’t think that high intelligence is either a necessary nor a sufficient condition for a high level of skill at bridge. Bridge is a unique set of skills that must be acquired and refined by practice. I don’t know what you consider to be a “big” bridge club, nor do I see how the number of tables at the bridge club either supports or contradicts the notion that intelligence is helpful in developing skill at bridge. I do think that casual players who have never played duplicate are intimidated by the whole environment at a bridge club, and many of them have no desire to play duplicate. This is one of many threats to the continued well-being of tournament bridge in future generations.
Howard Wachtel recently posted..If you prefer print books to e-books, here is an excellent selection of bridge b…
Thank you for pointing out that I was vague in saying “Big bridge clubs”. To clarify, I was referring to clubs that hold bridge every day of the week and through the day and evening with teaching and play sessions rather than to clubs that have a large membership or a lot of tables.
I was merely saying that these “big” clubs tend to exist in wealthier neighbourhoods and that both the perceived and experienced wealth/intellect ‘thing’ is intimidating to many.
Reminds me of a blog post about JS Priestley at http://nthurlbeck.blogspot.com/2012/01/j-b-priestley-takes-bow.html
and also of this bit of trivia from a 30s Bridge World magazine:
. . . an article [Letter to the Editor actually from Stella Crosley Ward} recounts this appealing tale. She has an apartment [in New York City] on the top floor of a building that gives her a great view of street life. She observes workers playing cards on the sidewalk below and quickly dispersing when someone sees the boss showing up. Curious, she goes down to see what’s going on. Sure enough, they’re playing bridge and when she offers some input, the man who won the bid argues with her in broken Italian [new immigrants flooded into various city worker unions back then].
“Since then,” she says I have at times furnished advice and early morning sandwiches.” She closes her letter with a plea for “true lovers of the game” to provide a shack for the men with the cold weather coming on.
You are so ABSOLUTELY RIGHT — doesn’t take great intellect to learn to play bridge, kids do it all the time or used to.
The Bridge World article that accompanied that Letter to the Editor quotes Culbertson (with his usual bragadocio) saying: “In 1929 when Bridge World started, contract bridge was struggling as a poor third to auction bridge and whist. Today contract bridge is the most popular game in the world . . . included in the curricula of high schools . . . a minor sport in famous colleges. It is the diversion of kings, of presidents, of milionaires–and of hobos.” No REASON why it couldn’t become so again if those stuffy establishment types would but learn from the past.
Hi !
I have two points to make, having moved to a wealthy community with snobbery and having just learned rudimentary bridge last year.
1. Snobbery: If you are on the same economic level, groups generally accept you, but if your are of a different generation or perhaps not connected to a desired social status, then the old guard, who are not aware of their snootiness, can make one feel not wanted. But who cares? Since most of us adults have too many other nice people to play bridge with… and life is too short to put up with grumpy people.
2. “Too intellectual”: Most of the ladies that learned with me last year are still playing, but the ones that dropped out were anxious about their bidding performance. Generally they could count cards, but were just not happy at their self-imposed stress. I also noticed that the large group taught by a rigid teacher, learned less and dropped out than when instructed in a small group by a fun, kind, and less serious bridge teacher.
*** The moral of this story is, if one learns casual bridge first without competing with social snobs in a large group, then bridge is more fun.
Ciao!