Caution to the Wind, Knickers to the Floor

The bridge game had gotten off to a late start - Nana had been loathe to turn off the Red Sox game until she was confident of the outcome - and the ladies were restless and anxious to get under way.  It was 1967, the year of "The Impossible Dream" for the Boston club, and my grandmother was a die hard fan.

Keep your knickers on, girls, she told them mildly, It's already middle of the 7th.

7th what? Aunt Pearl muttered and helped herself to a second icebox manhattan.

Inning, you nitwit! Miss Clara snapped, 7th inning!

They're like those quarter things in football, Aunt Vi added, Only there's twice as many.

Miss Clara sighed audibly. You're thinking of ice hockey, Vi, dear, she said impatiently but Aunt Vi, who had led something of a sheltered life, missed the sarcasm entirely.  

Thank you, Clara, she said with a hesitant smile, I declare I don't know how you keep up with all these things.

ALICE!  Aunt Pearl bellowed desperately and so suddenly that poor Aunt Vi jumped and dropped her manhattan glass.

Exasperated, my grandmother snapped off the radio and stalked into the sunroom, took her seat and gave all three women a glare.  Deal the damn cards, she ordered abruptly and the game commenced but the women were distracted - Nana by the game she was missing, and the rest by Aunt Vi's conservative bidding.

One spade, she offered tentatively and across the table from her Miss Clara growled.

That's right, Vi, Clara said irritably, Caution to the wind and knickers to the floor!

Aunt Vi paled and tried to steady her trembling hands.

I don't know why we can't play canasta, she protested weakly, Clara is always so mean to me at bridge!

Three hearts, Aunt Pearl said confidently and Vi shuddered.

The outcome was predictable, with Nana and Aunt Pearl winning by a landslide, Clara scowling like a bitter
thundercloud and poor Aunt Vi on the verge of tears.  

Boston beat Detroit - 11 to 1, a real pitchers duel, Curt Gowdy announced sarcastically - and after cream cake and a second pitcher of icebox manhattans  (by unspoken agreement, it was always referred to as spiced iced tea once the bridge game was concluded), cards were forgotten and play forgiven.  The ladies chattered amiably about the latest gossip, then embraced like long lost friends and said their temporary goodbyes. 

Clara, I heard Aunt Vi ask timidly, What exactly is a pitcher's duel?

Miss Clara laughed until she cried, linked her arm with Vi's and gave her a hug.

It's like a sword fight, Vi, dear, she said briskly, Only with baseballs.  I'll explain it to you next week.

Caution to the wind, knickers to the floor.  That's how friendship happens.