Don't Mess With Omar Sharif

I do not understand bridge. At all. If a man came up to me in the street and told me he'd just "led a club into dummy's major tenace," I would call 911, because clearly one of us has had a stroke and can't process English. But every Sunday, in doing the puzzles in the Detroit Free Press, my eyes are drawn to Omar Sharif's bridge column. Not only is it amusing in a "watching people speak Klingon" way, the titles are often flat-out awesome.

Yesterday's was, "Choose Your Death!" Okay, it didn't have the exclamation point. And in the past, I remember other headlines from the column, like "Strip Tease" and "Cornering Your Prey." I'm pretty sure I'm not making those up.

You could write ransom letters with that column. I'm left with the impression that bridge matches are made up of classy old gents with little mustaches calmly uttering death threats to each other, and I only pray I never find out otherwise.