On this occasion we have been asked to direct a Bridge Club's Annual 2-day Congress held in a charming castle somewhere North of Watford. A number of conversations with "Paddy" have got all the details arranged. It's mundane things like "you do the stationery and I'll bring the Computer" which have to be sorted out. Rather than brave the lanes of Hertfordshire twice you decide to stop over at the castle. This will save on travel costs but add accomodation costs and the whole deal is fixed price so it is our problem. The lodging has been booked.

The only serious problem arises on Saturday Morning. "Ah!", says the caddy pack, united for once, "Ah!", they say. You will recall that Directors and Caddies have to say everything three times before anyone listens. "Ah! You're taking the computer ?? We'd like to come and help!". Your Horn of Communication is used to call the castle and change your booking to a family room. Meanwhile they carry the computer and a terrifying quantity of adolescent impedimenta out to the chariot. The pile dwarfs your overnight bag and brief case containing the green-backed volume of sacred law. You ban the boomerang, cricket bat and ball [on reflection directors could find a use for a cricket bat ...] whip up the horses and set off.

The castle is duly located, and the local squires have set up the tables for the pairs event. The caddies are whipped into action and dervish-like set-up the computer; test that their games work ("Be reasonable father: if I can hit a griffin with a tomahawk thrown by a 7-yearold boy at 30 paces, your boring software is bound to work." I confess they have a point) Then they dress the tables, demand money for food, drinks etc. They are instructed to return half-an-hour before the end of the qualifier, and Ptoof! they disappear.

The qualifier proceeds smoothly, occasional calls being mostly for revokes (they don't know how to follow suit North of Watford). They return having apparently spent all the money you gave them. For half-an-hour the team works like a dream, Senior Caddy fetching score-slips as they are finished; Junior Caddy grabbing boards, stripping them, laying up for the final. 3 minutes after the last board is finished you post the results, frequencies and personal score cards, and having half an-hour to spare decide on a quick bath before dinner.

Wait for it ....

There is a pair of muddy and wet roller blades in the bath, and the bathmat is caked with dirt. (How did he get them into the chariot without you spotting them?). Junior Caddy is given 10 minutes to sort it out. You wish you'd brought the cricket bat.

An interesting problem from the final, the bidding goes:

WEST			NORTH			EAST			SOUTH
	1			double			2 NT	1		3	1
	pass			4			double			All Pass	3
1. explained as a Diamond raise

This goes for a zillion. 2N is of course natural, (it's probable that had South opened 1-of-a-major then 2N is a fit). East says she wouldn't have bid if she'd known it was natural. You decide that there has been damage, and now have to find from all the likely results the one most favourable to EW. Anyway S could well have re-bid 3NT, which goes down 1 on a normal defence and normal play. Thus you rule. For the record East's hand is approximately xxxx, xxxx, xxx, Kx. I agree I wouldn't have bid over a natural 2NT. To be honest I don't think I would have bid.

Period.

The results of the final get posted, and setting the usual guards, traps and wards you retire to the castle lodgings for the night. The bath boasts 3 inches of water, a miserable looking goldfish and some pond weed. The Junior Caddy is given the choice that either he or the goldfish goes into the moat. There are also 105 pencils marked "Letchworth Castle" on his overnight bag. The residents won't be able to write any letters tonight! They also have to be put back.

Sunday morning sees the chariot driven down to the local village where various artificial waterfalls have been constructed. You pay a local nubile wench to be allowed to ride on them. Well the caddies do. I drink coffee and watch. Back again and we reset the tables for the Swiss. The computer is now totally behind the screens and is emitting strange war-cries and wailings. I think the griffin just got hit again.

More revokes, and a director's high spot: a minor penalty card. (A card not of honour rank accidentally exposed, as in playing two cards to the same trick). There is no penalty except that you must play this small card in preference to another small card if this suit is played. Last round, table 1 and our heroine from the previous day calls us over again. This time she is West

SOUTH			WEST			NORTH			EAST
	1			2	1		double	2		pass
	2	3		pass			4			pass
	5			pass			pass			pass
1. both majors, weak or strong 2. willing to penalise at least one major 3. not alerted

North has Diamonds and fails to alert South's bid. I suppose North should alert since I find it hard to envisage it being natural in any circumstance. But West was trying to claim damage when her opening spade lead got ruffed by South. This I find hard to believe. In principle if you are at Table 1 the Director is going to assume you will at least try to protect yourself by asking North "Should you have alerted 2 ?". You expect that bid to be artificial and can check at no cost to your side.

The results get posted, the chariot is refilled. You ban the stone carvings filched from the gardens, remind the Junior Caddy he has left his roller blades in the bar and leave. Thank you Letchworth Bridge Congress. I hope you had as much fun as we did.

Although this was the first in 1997, I've now directed six of these congresses, and it is so dis-heartening that such a well organised congress should suffer from poor attendance. I urge you to come along and play, it's much more fun than a 1-day Green point event, and half the price.