His name is Fritz Fitzimmons.
You can call him Fritz, or you can call him Fitz.
Every Tuesday, he’s down at the Auctioneer Union Hall, playing Bridge with his buddies.
He’s not very good at it, but neither are they.
They used to shoot pool, but arthritis made it hard.
They can barely shuffle, deal, and hold the cards now.
But the bidding’s pretty fierce.
Rattling off their hearts and spades and diamonds.
And their no trumps.
When the bidding’s over, the dealer shouts SOLD! and the winner takes the cards.
As I said, they’re not very good at Bridge.