Michael Dworetsky’s LM Party

Yesterday evening at the Hartford Bridge Club sixty-one people gathered to celebrate Michael Dworetsky’s achievement of the rank of Life Master. After the sixth round there was a little ceremony, and I gave a little testimonial speech. Here is an … Continue reading Continue reading

Yesterday evening at the Hartford Bridge Club sixty-one people gathered to celebrate Michael Dworetsky’s achievement of the rank of Life Master.

After the sixth round there was a little ceremony, and I gave a little testimonial speech. Here is an approximation of the text.

I need to make three points. 1. It has been a long hard road for Michael Dworetsky, a founding member of the Hartford Bridge Club. This was, of course, back in the days when they played in the basement of McGinty’s Pool Hall, and you had to walk through a speakeasy to get to the tables. Michael and his buddies drove up from college in their Hudson roadster. You could easily distinguish them from the other players by their spats and their raccoon coats. He has often regaled me with stories of how before they had directors, disputes over ethics or points of procedure were often taken “out back.”

After serving under General Patton in WW2, Michael returned to Hartford and resumed playing Tuesday and Thursday evenings at the HBC. Throughout the forties, fifties, sixties, etc., he accumulated master points at the rate of .24 or so per month. On one of those nights a few years ago he asked me about tournaments, and I explained how you could get gold, red, and silver points there. He started attending tournaments and saw some success.

One other historical note. Michael works in investments, and he has been very successful at it. In the go-go days of the last decade, however, lots of people in his profession got a little over-leveraged and experimented a little too much with exotic financial instruments. It. Got. Bad. To the point where Michael and Ellen found themselves … homeless. Two manifestations stand out in my memory. Once I found him sitting in this very room with a hole in his loafer the size of a silver dollar. I volunteered to get his shoes repaired, but he said that he knew of a big cardboard box, and he could just cut a piece to stick in the shoe. I just shrugged. The other time was when we were playing at the Ukrainian Home. The caddy, who was a cute little guy no bigger than this, walked past our table with a big honkin’ cupcake with icing. Michael stopped him and asked him: “Are you going to eat all of that?” I got a lump in my throat, but I did not say anything.

Point 2: Michael is a really good bridge player. He has read just about every book there is on the subject. If you want to know the strengths and weaknesses of the McCabe Adjunct, he is your man. But the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and I posit this as a touchstone of his prowess. We were playing at the sectional in Greenwich – in the very event that he earned the last silver points that he needed. I put him in a difficult six no contract, and he brought it home by recognizing and executing a real squeeze. It was a joy to watch.

Point 3: Michael is a terrific partner. I cannot tell you how many of my screw-ups he has endured without yelling at me – like the time I spilled coffee in his car. The worst one, however, might have been when we were playing in a very important match in the GNT qualifier. I opened a spade. Lefty overcalled two hearts. Michael cue-bid three hearts inviting me to game. Righty passed. I went into the tank and finally judged that we were a little short of what we needed for four spades. I pulled out not the three-spades card, but the pass card and left Michael to play — in the most important hand in a very important match — in a three-one heart fit. Not a peep out of him.

The most that he ever did was at a sectional in Rhode Island when he made me wear my baseball cap pulled down over my eyes so that he did not have to look at my facial expressions. Who could blame him? He more than made up for that, however, when the night after he made Life Master he drove me into the city and introduced me to mountains of food at the Carnegie Deli. Partners don’t come any better than that.

On the other hand, one thing about him really grinds my grits. Every session – every session! – he fills out an entirely new convention card. Then, when it is over, he always folds it into eighths and stuffs it into his shirt pocket. So, I obtained for him this el cheapo convention card holder and populated it with a few of the cards that he plays with various partners.

Congratulations and thanks for the memories.

MD & MW

And a splendid time was had by all.