In their Willow Glen home, with cards nearby and tables set up for an afternoon game, the Fieros recount their first meeting at a bridge table.

"I actually beat him that night," Teddi quips. "Granted, I did have a much better partner than he did."

Although they began as opponents, Teddi and Derek began to play as partners, and many years later, continue to play socially in their home and competitively at the American Contract Bridge Club in Campbell.

Bridge was part of the reason the couple decided to move back to the San Jose area after living in the East Bay for many years. Playing nearly three times a week, the drive from Pleasanton to Campbell was tiresome.

The Fieros are only one of many devoted bridge players that stream into the local club several times a week.

But for a game that invokes such drive and fascination in people like the Fieros, the actual game is quiet and cordial.

Bridge is played by two opposing partnerships that decide the trump card through bidding. The key actions are almost indistinguishable to the untrained eye—mental strategizing and subtle communications with their partner. Yet the two-room space at the Campbell Community Center is filled with nearly 40 players each morning and night. Unit 507, the only bridge club in the South Bay, attracts players from as far as San Mateo County and the East Bay.

Back in 1958, Time declared bridge America's No. 1 card game. Since those years other diversions, such as golf and video games, have stolen some of bridge's visibility. But from social bridge gatherings in private homes to the competitive games in Willow Glen, players say bridge is making a comeback.

The national league boasts a membership of 170,000 nationwide, and the Campbell branch alone claims at least 200 regular members. Devotees say bridge is both a social diversion and a mental exercise that continually keeps the players challenged. The recognition comes through wining master points that are accrued over a lifetime of playing bridge, tournament wins, and the pride of doing well in front of their peers.

According to bridge teacher Lynn Yokel, Unit 507's location in the Silicon Valley makes the club membership more diverse. While the average age of players is 61 nationwide, the Campbell club sees a handful of players in their 40s and 50s, and as young as 18. It's the younger, analytically-minded engineers and technological gurus who have a natural bent for strategy games like bridge or chess, she said. It's what make the local club unique.

But Yokel, a Campbell resident, is proof that bridge is not privy to the retired or the high-tech employed. The 45-year-old has played across the table from bakers, piano tuners and truck drivers. But for her, bridge began at home as a community of mothers.

When Yokel's first child was born more than a decade ago, she advertised with the diaper service she used, seeking other mothers who would play bridge as their children played.

Through the advertisement, a group of mothers began to play social bridge in Yokel's home. As their children got older, Yokel and mother Annette Powers began to play competitively with Unit 507.

For the mothers, playing bridge outside of the house became a girl's night out—a chance to break from the busy life of mothering and to socialize with other adults. Today, Yokel has two children, Powers has four, and the mothers still play together weekly.

While the move from social to competitive bridge limits the time players socialize, longtime relationships develop nonetheless.

"For me, to play competitive bridge is social because a lot of the people have become my good friends," Yokel said.

Along with Powers, Yokel plays with several other partners regularly. One of her former partners is Ray Yuenger, a judicial attorney for the California Sixth District Court of Appeal.

The relationship between bridge partners is a microcosm of all relationships, Yuenger said. The more often a person plays with a partner, the better the team becomes. Much of the game depends on reading your partner's cards through subtle communication.

Like Yokel, Yuenger began playing bridge regularly in a social setting. At the court, he had played lunchtime games with other attorneys and justices several times a week for years. When he first sat down at a competitive bridge game in Campbell and peered over the table at his opponents—two senior women who reminded him of his grandmother—he thought he'd go easy on them.

"They tore me apart," Yuenger laughs.

With a dose of real competition, Yuenger entered the world of duplicate bridge. The game, he admits, is addictive. Now vice president of the American Contract Bridge League's Unit 507 Board, Yuenger plays weekly, directs a Tuesday night game and competes in tournaments.

While some players, like Yokel and Yuenger, play with friends or strangers, some married couples enjoy partnering. However, it's the teamwork aspect of bridge that can make the game an unsuitable match for some.

"A lot of couples don't play together because they can't be civil," Ray Lubow, bridge teacher and player, said.

It's a familiar experience for Lubow and his wife, Maxine. The couple began playing in the 1950s. Lubow was invited to a workplace bridge game but told his boss he would only play if he could find an attractive, young lady to be his partner. Maxine, who also worked in the building, was willing to join the game. But before their romantic relationship even began, their bridge partnership went sour.

"It was rocky at first," Ray said.

"He told me I didn't know how to play bridge!" Maxine said.

But even with a shaky beginning, the couple found that instead of arguing, they could help each other. After each game, they discuss their hands, improving their skills.

There are, however, plenty of acrimonious marital partnerships that have been cemented in bridge lore like the combination of cards called the Bennett Murder Hand. In 1931, John S. Bennett, a Kansas City resident, distressed his wife by not winning a hand in bridge, that his wife became hysterical. Bennett reached across the table to slap his wife out of her hysteria. His wife responded by fetching the family gun and returning to the game room to shoot her husband.

For Teddi and Derek Fiero, the frustration of playing with a spouse was part of the reason they stopped playing bridge for a decade. The couple also met at a bridge table and in recent years, returned to playing together in the Campbell club.

Couple partnerships are crowded company, Derek said. "It's a team of four: You and your ego and her and her ego," he said.

Teddi said her and her husband are still learning to not let a bad hand ruin an entire game. The arguing between couples, she said, are often not because of competition with each other, but the desire to look good in their spouses' eyes. Where partners may disagree, couple will argue, they say.

Unit 507 has a zero tolerance policy for arguments at the bridge table, and bridge has been an overall positive experience for the Fieros. It's given the couple a chance to spend time with Teddi's mother, host games in their homes, and connect with other players for parties and outings.

Beneath the social aspects of bridge, it's the skill involved in playing that keeps players hooked.

A good memory and logical mind are key elements involved in developing solid bridge skills, Derek Fiero said. Counting cards and understanding probabilities and percentages are also helpful, he adds.

The mental exercise of strategizing in bridge helps keep club players' minds active, evident by the sharp 90 year olds that still play in Campbell, Derek said. Like other bridge players, he reads bridge books and plays regularly to keep his game competitive.

The efforts have paid off, with club members receiving national accolades for their skills. Fran Dickman, Diane Shannon, Ed Barlow and Rose Meltzer are all notable bridge players.

For a select few, bridge can also become a career. Bridge professionals can pull in $100,000 a year by teaching other players or charging to partner with them.

But for the average bridge player, competition is a game by game, tournament by tournament experience. Club players can compete in sectional, regional or national tournaments, which award more master points.

Players who aim to become a "life master" must accrue 10,000 points. In contrast, an average club game yields 0.9 to 1.2 points a game.

But as passionate as some players are for the game, they know the livelihood of bridge depends on passing the game on to younger generations.

Yokel teaches both beginning and intermediate bridge classes and encourages younger people to learn. In an effort to keep with the times, the card game is bringing younger generations to the table by going online.

The national league's website offers free software that teaches bridge and a place to play online. MSN and Yahoo! offer free online bridge games that users can watch or play.

Yokel believes her generation was the last to grow up watching their parents play bridge at home. So to save the game from dying, the Fieros would like to see bridge introduced to the schools as an extracurricular activity, like chess.

The problem, the Fieros say, is that too many other diversions compete with bridge for attention. Video games, golf, computers and movies are more active and embraced today. Also, much of bridge is sedentary and requires complete concentration, which may dissuade some people from learning.

For others, bridge may appear too complex to learn, with the bidding, contracts, conventions and nuances that can only be learned with experience. For Corinne Carter, bridge is a legacy she's passed on to her children and grandchildren.

"It's not hard," Carter said. "Don't let anyone scare you."

The local American Contract Bridge League meets every day at the Campbell Community Center, 1 W. Campbell Ave. For more information call 408.871.1232 or visit the website www.sjbridge.org. For classes contact Lynn Yokel at 408.374.4669 or email her at lyokel@sprynet.com . The Junior League of San Jose will also begin classes in January 2005. Contact the league at 408.264.3058.