What is it that makes bridge so much fun? One thing is certain: it's not only the game itself. The 'things surrounding it' play an important part as well.
Top players value one thing above all: winning. My former partner Louk Verhees once expressed this as follows: 'If I want to do something for fun, I head for the tennis court. But bridge I play to win...'
There it is, winning, with everything that comes with it: fame, money...

How about non-top players? Well, the social contacts! The bridge club is the perfect place to meet new people, to enjoy playing together this game of ours with many people at the same time. But there too of course winning is important. Less money, less fame, but important all the same.

Earlier I wrote: 'not only the game'. Of course this doesn't mean the game is not important. On the contrary: it gives me an enormous amount of pleasure. There is a problem however: one has to go through a lot of 'grey' to encounter the one little pearl. Or: you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet a prince(ss). That single truly beautiful bid, that single tremendous card in defence, that single cleverly designed and executed line of play. However, these little pearls only pop up once in a while, after many deals in which nothing really happens (1NT — 3NT: nine tricks on ice) and in which the game does not give a lot of satisfaction. And then there are these deals in which you simply go astray...

As a consequence of all this, most of my bridge life I have kept myself busy at the bridge table — apart from enjoying the game itself — having fun in other ways: telling (corny) jokes, laughing out loud, sometimes making extreme bids 'just to see what happens' and so on. However, acceptable as this kind of behaviour may be in a friendly at the local club, it is ill-advised in an international top match. So I adapted my way of playing to the kind of match I was playing.

I noticed that the more I was consumed by top level bridge (matches, training sessions, tournaments — both national and international), the less time there was left to play bridge just for fun. I found out I had to leave the fun out, to stick to going for the result only, in order to win. More and more I found out I wasn't made for that kind of bridge. And more and more I missed playing against friends at the local club, since I had had to cut back on that due to time pressure. The fun aspect, so to speak.

I do realise there is a paradox here, since bridge is most interesting when you play against strong opponents. That is the most exciting trial of strength. Still I sighed deeper every time I entered a new Master League (highest Dutch League) series or travelled to an international match. Sterile bridge play with table screens; one hardly ever sees one's partner the whole day; one opponent is even more sullen than the other (ok, ok, I am generalising: of course there were some types like me present as well). Often I thought: 'what am I doing here.'

Once I played a Master League teams match. Suddenly my mobile phone rang. Gerard, a team mate who wasn't playing at that moment (we had a six men team), wanted to know how we were doing...
'A lot worse, now that you've rung, Gerard, since this will cost us a two Victory Points penalty.'
Yes, I know, I should have switched my mobile off. Or even have handed it in, I think, in those days. I had forgotten. Of course, regulations like that are just and fair, but all the incident did was increase my sense of: what am I doing here?

In the end I stopped playing bridge completely.
Do I miss top level bridge? Oh yes. But much more I miss the evenings I played with Gerrit at bridge club 'Hok' in Amsterdam, the fun bridge I played at bridge club 'De Kaag' at the Kaag island and at bridge club 'Crash' with Louk and later Bas as partners. I have played several international tournaments on the Dutch national team, but those evenings at the clubs bring back the best memories.