Call me middle-aged, but the days when I enjoyed playing bridge all night are long gone — which is why I opted out of last weekend’s 24-hour marathon at the Young Chelsea Bridge Club. Thankfully, 27 brave pairs did play, starting at midday on Saturday, and ending at midday on Sunday (without a break). By all accounts, no one struggled — apart from poor David Muller, who had heroically offered to direct. Without the stimulation of playing, he fell asleep at his desk a few times — meaning the usual cry of ‘Director!’, became a crescendo of cries: ‘Director! Director! Director!!’.
Four of the ‘pairs’ chose to enter as a threesome, as at least one of them wanted a break. This was perfectly legitimate; it was arguably advantageous, but plenty of players believe it’s better to play straight through.
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