Hot Damn!

Howard Lederer says:

"Specialize at your own peril".

When he says that, he's talking about learning how to play more than one poker GAME. I see the logic of it, but I decided long ago that I was going to figure hold'em out before I started trying to learn any other game(s).

I've realized there's more to "Specialize at your own peril" than specializing in any single game, though. If you sit in a no-limit hold'em game for any length of time, you're bound to hear players discussing limit hold'em, and how much they hate it. "You can't bet the value of your hand", "It's no fold-em hold'em", etc. No-limit players storming off of limit games, cursing and muttering to themselves about how bad, stupid and evil limit players are is a frequent sight in any casino.

If you sit in a limit game, you'll often hear players discussing no-limit hold'em, and how much they hate it. "All they do is push all-in", "You can go broke in one hand", etc. You also regularly see limit players sitting in no-limit games and getting their clocks cleaned.

I used to agree with the no-limit players, limit drove me crazy! About a year and a half ago, however, I came to a realization: limit would be a lot more fun if I was the one drawing out on people, instead of the one being drawn out on. The more I looked at it, the more I realized that limit and no-limit hold'em are two completely different games; they shouldn't even have the same name. The closest comparison I can come to is chess and checkers. You play both on the same board, but that's where the similarities end.

Limit and no-limit may share the same basic game structure; two hole cards per player, a flop, a turn and a river, but from there on, it's a whole different ball game. The cards you'll open with, your reasons for raising, calling, and folding, etc. are all different. Bringing a no-limit strategy into a limit game, or vice versa, is like taking your aggressive dog to Seigfried and Roy for obedience training; ain't gonna work. Once I figured that out, I began doing well at both.

But wait, it goes even deeper. While I've always known there were big differences in strategy between tournament and cash game play, it's only recently that I've begun to see HOW big those differences are. I'm only scratching the surface of it, but already, I see where cash and tournament play are as different from each other as limit and no-limit are.

I've come to realize that you risk the peril of specialization even in playing one game; holdem. Cash, tournament, limit, no limit; I know many players who play only one. No limit tournaments, for example, or limit cash games, only. While I am absolutely concentrating on a single game, my goal is to do well at both limit and no-limit, tournament and ring; which leads us to the reason for this post.

Last year, I did much better at limit than I did at no-limit. For the year of 2005, I averaged a 23.00 per hour yield in 4-8 limit. Sure, there were losing sessions, but, there were a lot more winners than losers, and the winners tended to be big winners, while the losers were normally small losses. In no-limit, I did better in tournament play than in cash games, where I was a net loser for the year, despite a lot of BIG wins at 2-5 no-limit early in the year. Basically, from the time I switched to 1-2, I started losing (I prefer to think of it as an "educational investment").

This year has been totally different. By the end of April, I'd already won more playing 1-2 no-limit than I won in all of my poker playing in 2005, and it had flip-flopped. ALL of my winnings have come from 1-2 no-limit. I'm a net loser so far this year at 4-8 limit; I haven't had a single winning 4-8 session in almost two months, and I've sucked at tournaments, too.

Recently, PokerStars started running 20 table (180 player) SNGs (Sit and Go tournaments). I find these very attractive, as they're the closest thing in structure to the daily and weekly tournaments spread in the casinos here. There's just no correlation between a 1700 player online tournament and a 125 player weekly casino tourney; playing one doesn't do a lot to prepare you for the other.

I also like the payout structure in the 20 table SNGs. PokerStars is now paying 20% of the field in their low-buy in daily tournaments. Sure, it's easier to make it to the money, but there's no profit in just making the money. Paying 20% of the field, rather than 10%, waters down the 2nd-5th place payouts considerably, and that's where you make your profit. The 20 table SNGs only pay the top 18 players, 10% of the field.

There are three buy-in levels. 4.00 + .040, 20.00 + 2.00, and 50.00 + 5.00. I started at the lowest level and lost my ass. Employing the logic shared by many of my fellow poker players, I decided to move up to the 20 + 2 SNGs where "the players were better". I still lost my ass, but slightly less so, percentage wise. Based on this promising outcome, clearly, the logical move was to move up to the 50 + 5 SNGs, where the players would be even "better" (meaning they'd play "right"). This strategy proved successful, at least in part. While I still lost my ass, I did manage to cash in more of the 50 +5s than I had at either of the lower levels.

Moral victories are great, but I'd blown a huge chunk of my online bankroll. More importantly, I'd TOTALLY thrown away all of the mental and emotional discipline I'd developed. Frustration at the play of my opponents frequently left me RAGING at the computer screen as I was drawn out on ONCE AGAIN!!! Oddly enough, this only seemed to affect my online game. In live play, I still had all of the serenity and composure I'd had before, and my winning ways continued. It was time for a serious rethink.

I decided to specifically quantify; to actually write down all of the leaks in my game (with brutal honesty), think about them for a time, then address them point by point. Here's what I came up with:

Part 1: The Game

Leak: Not understanding the nature of the game I'm playing, and how my opponents approach it. Playing on the internet and playing live are two completely different animals; especially in the way the people you're playing against approach it:

* When you play live, you have to travel to the game; on the internet, the game is right there on your desktop. Since there's so much more effort put into getting to that live game or tourney, players tend to play a less risky game.

* In a live game, real human beings, many of whom you know, will see and critique your play; on the internet, your competitors are just avatars on your screen. This causes many people to make stupid plays they never would in a live game, because they don't have to face the players who would ridicule them, and they don't have to worry about word of their bad play getting out amongst their local poker community.

* On the internet, there's always another tournament starting soon; in a live tournament, when you bust out, that's usually it for the day. Yes, you can go play in cash games, but that's not the same. The lack of other tournament choices will cause most live players to think twice about risks they'd take in a second on the internet, knowing they can always sign up for another tourney.

* The above effect is dramically magnified in online Sit & Go tournaments. There's ALWAYS another one signing people up, so it's much easier for players to give in to their impulses to SEE if their draw will hit, or if their opponent is bluffing.

* People almost always play for lower stakes on the internet. When you have 50.00 or more tied up in a live tournament, that investment is going to remain in your mind as you make your decisions. The much lower investments in internet tournaments and SNGs can cause the exact opposite effect: "What the hell, it's just ten bucks", etc.

These factors; ease of access and convenience, anonymity, opportunity to "try again" in another tourney or SNG, and low investment cause a MAJOR difference in the way players approach internet play. People who are absolute rocks in a live game will call all-in on a draw in a second on the internet. Also, the less experienced the player, the more likely they are to play "fast and loose" on the internet.

Plug: Thinking about this has caused me to make some major changes in the way I play these online SNGs. Some might think the solution would be to loosen up and play more in the style of my competitors, but I went the other way; tightening up, ESPECIALLY from early position. As a matter of fact, I've essentially eliminated ALL play from the first three positions, folding everything except AA, KK, QQ and AKs, which I raise with, and any other pocket pair, which I will limp, but fold to any single raise that is not laying me at least 4:1, and ANY raise and re-raise. I've always had that philosophy, but now I'm RIGIDLY adhering to it.

While this is all sound, strategic play, the REAL problem wasn't my competitors, it was ME. That was a tough mirror to look into:

Part 2: Me

Leak: (by a LONG shot): PISS-POOR DISCIPLINE. Calling when I KNOW, more often than not, I'm beat. Calling because I KNOW I was ahead early in the hand, and that means I'm SUPPOSED to win. Calling because I bet the thing all the way down and only a FOOL would chase a hand for all that money. Calling because MAYBE this asshole is bluffing. Calling because God HAS to stop sticking it to me at SOME point, and maybe this is the time.

Plug: Pretty simple. Do what I know I should do, not what I want to do. So easy to say, SO DAMN HARD to do. The toughest thing about this game is NOT KNOWING. The hands I fold preflop COULD hit a miracle flop. The inside straight draw I flopped COULD be made on the turn or river. The player making that big bet COULD be bluffing. More than anything else, that desire for resolution, TO KNOW is what causes me to want to do things I know I shouldn't. The only solution to that is having the discipline to make what I KNOW are the smart plays. I've invested A LOT of time in effort in learning what those smart plays are, but all that knowledge is useless unless I have the DISCIPLINE to apply it.

Leak: Allowing frustration, anger, outrage and disgust to influence my decisions. Frustration: "I'm sick and tired of this asshole raising me." Anger: "How can EVERY freaking flop miss me completely?" Outrage: "How can THAT card fall on the turn (or river) and kill my freaking hand?" Disgust: "How can this idiot call pot-sized bets all the way to the river with (insert one) "an inside straight draw", "bottom pair", "a single overcard", etc.

Plug: Find SERENITY. Decisions made due to frustration are ALWAYS bad decisions, regardless of the outcome. More importantly, if I'm not playing for fun and love of the game, why am I playing? Find serenity, or find something else to do with my time that doesen't make me crazy.

Leak: I erroneously believe I deserve to win; I'm entitled to win; I'm SUPPOSED to win, for Christ's sake!. The more I don't win, the more I believe I'm DUE; I'm OWED! While I may intellectually resolve that bad thinking later, when I'm in a hand, that ridiculously stupid attitude affects my decisions in the worst possible way. This leads to frustration, anger, outrage and disgust.

Plug: LOSE the sense of entitlement. How am I letting myself become a more polite Phil Helmuth? I don't berate other players, but the emotions are the same. I'm playing "correctly" and these FUCKING MORONS won't FUCKING FOLD!!! Bullshit. The only way for me to win consistently is to outplay my opponents. To do that, I have to OUT-THINK them, and the only way I can do that is to make my decisions INTELLECTUALLY, not emotionally. This is a BRAIN GAME! If they're not folding to my mathmatically correct bets and raises, then it's MY job to HELP them fold by making the price to call high enough to LET them. Finding each players' individual price is MY job. If I don't, the fault is mine, not theirs.

Leak: Can't (WON'T) make the big laydown. The buy-in is low and they're always signing up for another one; what the hell? When other players do that, I call them "morons"; why is it ok for me to do it?

Plug: Regardless of how far ahead I think I was preflop, on the flop, or on the turn; regardless of how stupid an opponent would have been to chase the draw, if they're hammering it at the end, they've probably made it. LAY THE DAMN THING DOWN! Make the great call because I've put the pieces together and the story just doesn't add up, not because, for once, my stupid "frustration call" paid off.

Leak: Underbetting pots. In low-stakes internet tournaments, betting 60% of the pot isn't enough to get loose and/or inexperienced players to lay down draws, 2nd pair, etc. I'm allowing my knowledge of the math and odds to cause me to bet only enough to run someone out who shares my knowledge of those odds. More players than not don't. Even if they do have SOME inkling, the buy in is low and they're always signing people up for another SNG, so they'll gamble.

Plug: BET THE POT (or more). If they call the pot-sized bet on the flop, the turn comes a blank, and I've put them on a draw, MOVE ALL-IN. the 141st Rule of Aquisition says "IF THEY'RE CALLIN', THEY'RE DRAWIN'". Make them fold, or make them PAY.

Leak: Bluffing too much: I get frustrated when my premium starting hands flop nothing. I'm absolutely disgusted that I fold hand after hand preflop, only to have the flop miss me COMPLETELY when I finally get to play one. I believe that discipline is supposed to be rewarded, and I'm outraged when it's not. It's my old man, throwing his hands up to heaven and whining "When is it MY turn, God?" Bullshit.

Plug: Cut back on the bluffing; ESPECIALLY when out of position. Do so when the conditions are right and it makes strategic sense, otherwise, DON'T BLUFF!! If I AM going to bluff, I need to BLUFF BIG! If I have them covered, put them all-in, or don't bluff. There's always "Plan B" if they call.

And a few other thoughts:

* Don't call big bets! Fold, or raise.

* Avoid over-reliance on "Plan B".

* Only play trouble hands like KQ, KJ, AJ, AT, etc from the button or cutoff, and only when I'm the raiser, or I have the raiser covered by at least 3:1.

* DRAWS ARE DEATH! Only draw when on a BIG stack, or shove 'em in the middle with a good draw on a short-stack. Otherwise, FOLD.

It looks like the work is paying off. Over the two weeks or so that I've been working on this, I've seen a steady improvement in my performance. Two days ago, I finished 2nd in a 4 +.40, making 144.00. I busted out of the next one I played in 3oth place, then won the next, cashing for 216.00.

Now, this could be nothing but luck. The 71st Rule of Aquisition says "A STOPPED CLOCK IS RIGHT TWICE A DAY". If you spread cheese on a computer's keyboard, turn a hamster loose on it, and let him play enough SNGs, he'll eventually win one. Looking down I can see there's still a little cheese on my keyboard.

I feel MUCH better about my play, however. We'll see how my results are after a month or so.

Interview With The Vampire

There's a poker player in our casino that I strongly suspect may be a vampire.

Jack is somewhere north of 60 years old, around 6'3", lean and lanky, with black, slicked-back hair, and a long, craggy, pasty-white face. Jack ALWAYS wears a black leather jacket and black tinted glasses, the ones popular back in the 70s, where the tint is darkest at the top of the lenses, growing progressively lighter towards the bottom. I've never seen Jack in the casino during the daylight, he's always there at night, and gone before the sun rises. When he walks, he just sort of glides. Nothing moves but his legs, every other part of him remains absolutely still. He sits at the poker table for hours on end, not saying a word, virtually motionless, moving as little as possible as he throws out his bets and rakes in his pots.

Jack is probably the most feared poker player in the casino. More often than not, he's perched in a high-limit game, studying the other players at the table from behind his huge stack of chips like a vulture eyeing a bunny rabbit with a broken leg. I've dealt to him pretty frequently, but, truth be told, you don't learn an awful lot about someone's game by dealing to them in a casino. You're only there for 30 minutes at a time, and you just don't see them play enough hands to pick up much. As the dealer, you also have a lot going on in keeping the game running smoothly and efficiently, and don't have much time to spend studying players.

A few weeks ago, I went in the casino to play. As is my habit, I walked around the poker room for a few minutes, looking the games and the players over to see where I wanted to play. I saw Jack sitting in the 8 seat in a 1-2 game, something he sometimes does while waiting for a seat in a higher-limit game. Better yet, the 9 seat was open! I went to the kiosk and asked the player coordinator (my buddy Travis) if I could have the seat. I got it. Travis and another floorperson, Jonathon, teased me about "going after" Jack, but that wasn't it at all. I saw this as an opportunity to learn from a player who is MUCH more advanced than me, in a game where we were playing for my stakes, not his. Normally, if I wanted to play against Jack to try and learn something, I'd have to sit in a 2-5 or 5-10 game; whatever lessons I learned would cost me a lot more than they would in a 1-2 gane. I also wasn't going to pass up a chance to play with Jack AND have position on him, which I thought would help me limit my losses even further.

It didn't work out as well as I'd hoped. Jack was called for the 2-5 game less that 30 minutes after I sat in the game. There was one hand, however, where I learned a lot.

I was on the button. The player is second position limped in, as did the player in seat 5, a young, aggressive player who didn't show much knowledge of starting hands and position, and who bluffed at a lot of pots. It folded around to Jack, who raised to 7.00. I folded my rags, as did the small blind. The big blind and the two limpers called, and the flop came:

Ah Js 5s

It checked around, and the turn came:

Ah Js 5s 7d

The first two players checked, the aggressive kid in seat 5 bet 10.00 into a 29.00 pot. Jack studied him for a moment and called. The other two players folded, and the river came:

Ah Js 5s 7d Jd

The kid in seat 5 bet 50.00 into a 49.00 pot. Jack thought a second, then tossed in his call, saying:

"Let's split it up."

The kid turned up:

Qh 7c, Jack turned up:

8s 7s.

The kid and another player both made derisive "How do you call with THAT?" comments as the dealer split the pot, but I thought I knew what had gone on, and simply said:

"Nice hand.", tapping the table.

A little later, I saw Jack off the table and asked him about the hand:

"Ok," I said, "here's what I think. You saw only two limpers in front of you, and a medium suited connector is a pretty good hand when it hits, cause no one can put you on it. You raised to fold me out and get the button, fold the blinds out and narrow the field, and disguise your holding in case it hits."

"When you found yourself facing three opponents, instead of two," I continued, "and when an Ace came on the flop, you decided to check yourself when they checked to you, just in case one of them had hit it and was being tricky. When the kid bet on the turn, it was a weak bet, and he reacted to that 7 falling. Since that card didn't complete any flushes or straights, he'd either hit his kicker for two pair, or had simply caught the 7. You called, rather than raised, because you still had no information on what the other players were going to do. You also knew if you were right about his only having a 7 and an 8 came on the river, you'd win the hand, and if an Ace, a Jack or a 5 came on the river, you'd probably split the pot (he wouldn't have if an Ace had fallen, the kid's Queen kicker would have played, but there was no way for Jack to know for sure what his kicker was,)."

I finished by saying: "So, when the Jack came on the river and paired the board, you knew it would probably be a split pot if he had a 7. That big bet meant he didn't want a call, so you could be pretty sure he didn't have an Ace or a Jack. Am I right?"

Jack looked at me for a second, then drawled:

"This ain't no poker school."

"Hey", I said, "I'm just trying to learn something."

"I give poker lessons right there", Jack said, pointing to a poker table as he started to walk off, "one hand at a time."

I guess he's a little tired of questions from people like me. I'm actually pretty excited that I've come far enough in my learning process that I could recognize what he'd done and why.

Now, if only I could DO it ..........

It's The Little Lies That Tell The Big Story

I'm a fan of Law & Order; have been for years. I especially like Law & Order: Criminal Intent. It focuses on Det. Bobby Goren, a quirky, hyper-intelligent guy whose incredible range of knowledge, powers of observation and psychological skills help him solve crimes. I've often thought he'd make a pretty good poker player, and was rewarded not long ago in an episode where he ran across a group of poker players and expressed a knowledge of hold'em; especially probabilities and tells. I knew it! In another episode, having nothing at all to do with poker, he said something that really stuck in my mind:

"It's the little lies that tell the big story" (108th Rule of Aquisition).

Over time, the more I've thought about that quote, the more relevant it's become to me, especially at the poker table. Read on and see why.

I think "play the player, not the cards" is the most misunderstood concept in poker. Poker is based on math and probability. There are 52 cards in the deck, and the probability of virtually every possible occurrence can be calculated with a good degree of reliability and factored into virtually every decision. That math isn't easy to learn, however; especially for someone like me, who sucks at math and hates it. Soon after I began playing, I came to understand the importance of math and probability in this game, and set out to not only learn it, but to create a learning system to simplify that math and make it much more accessable to "normal" people. It's worked, but that's another story.

I find it pretty ironic that I, after having mastered only basic postflop pot odds and having a pretty good understanding of preflop pot odds (so far), am thought of as a poker math whiz in my casino. I've barely scratched the surface of the underlying, fundamental math of this game.

When poker math is being discussed, more often than not, players will say:

"I play the player, not the cards." or,

"Poker isn't a card game you play with people, it's a people game you play with cards.", etc..

Over time, I've come to believe this is primarily a defensive behavior. People saying things like that, for the most part, don't know the probabilities, and aren't willing to put in the effort to learn them, so they tend to negate the importance of them; it saves them from feeling stupid. If you don't understand something, ridicule it.

Now, the "play the player, not the cards" comment is attributed to Doyle Brunson, yet I've seen interviews where Doyle (who holds an MBA from Hardin-Simmons University and worked as an accountant before becoming a poker player) talks about how he used to run hands out hundreds, even thousands of times, recording the outcomes to arrive at the probabilities. I believe it was on FSN's "Beyond The Glory" where he said the biggest advantage today's players have is that the odds and probabilities of the game have all been computed to the nth degree, and are readily available, where, in the old days, they were largely guesswork.

I'm not discounting the importance of psychology and playing the player, but every time I deal, I see inexperienced players trying to glean information from a staredown, hoping to see a pulse in someone's throat or how rapidly they're blinking behind their Oakleys, when they can't read a board strategically or know even the most basic odds and probabilities. The bottom line is that the math of this game is inescapable. If you choose to remain ignorant of it, you may win hands, you may win sessions, but you can never make a consistent profit. If all you know is the math, however, you won't be any more successful at this game. To be a consistently winning poker player, you have to master odds and probability, strategy (most of which derives from those odds and probabilities), AND people skills. It takes all three to be a complete player.

I also believe, however, that there is a progression of learning, with poker math and probability being the foundation of the game and people skills being the most advanced. When I laid out my learning syllabus, my strategy was to make odds and probabilities the first thing I learned so that, at some point, they would be such an integral part of my game that applying them would be virtually automatic. Since I wouldn't have to spend any time and intellectual energy there, it would free me up to spend more time and effort observing my opponents, looking for betting patterns and physical tells, etc.

That has worked well for me. While I feel I'm really just dancing around the edges of what it means to be a poker player, the fact is I can look at a flop and instantly see the nuts. I can also instantly see most of the draws (not just one I might be on) and instantly know the odds of hitting them. I still have a long way to go with this, but working as hard as I have on strategic board reading and learning the odds has made a big difference in my game, and I can clearly see how continuing to put effort into it will cause even greater rewards.

While I'm not yet to a level of learning where my primary focus is on people skills, I have picked up a lot on the way. Here's something that happened the other night:

I've been doing very well lately. Two nights ago, though, I had a pretty rough session. In cash games, I'm a big hand player; patiently waiting for strong starting hands, laying down what is often probably the best hand to big bets after the flop when the reward just isn't worth the risk, knowing those chips will all come back to me when I get the flop I need. Not this night, however. Twice, my AK hit two pair, only to run into sets. Another time, my straight on the turn got beat when my opponents' two pair filled up on the river. I was winning most of the small pots I got into, but this was not my night for the big pots.

I'd been playing for about 8 hours. I had a little over 300.00 in front of me, but was still stuck close to 200.00. I was sitting in the 7 seat, on the button. The action folded around to the player in seat 5, who limped in. The player in seat 6 folded, and I looked down and saw:

Ac Jc, and raised to 12.00

Now, the player in seat 5 had been in the game since I sat down. He's an Asian-American, probably in his early 30s. Over the course of the night, I'd learned he was a software engineer from out of town who had a flight home at 7:30 in the morning, and was going to play until he had to leave for the airport. He was a somewhat loose, somewhat passive player, who usually called, except when he occasionally went all-in. There wasn't much in between. He was stuck over 600.00 in the game, and I'd busted him once myself. He had about 200.00 in front of him and was playing inexperienced-tournament-style, raising preflop with any Ace, any paint, and any pocket pair. He was also playing frustrated, trying to win back his losses before he had to leave, so he was in a lot of pots and had turned up the aggression considerably. When he just called my raise after limping in at first, I didn't put him on much. The flop came:

As 9s 5h

He checked. With 27.00 in the pot, I bet 20.00. He quickly called. I watched him closely as the next card fell, but I didn't pick up on anything. The turn came:

As 9s 5h Th

He checked again. With 67.00 in the pot and two flush draws and three open-ended straight draws on the board, I didn't want to mess around, so I bet 50.00.

Now, this game was a little playful, with a lot of table talk and showing cards when heads up, so I wasn't surprised when he asked:

"So, how big is your kicker?"

"How many weak kickers have you seen me turn up tonight?" was my response. I'd gotten AK a number of times, way more than I should have statistically, and I was hoping he'd remember that and possibly fold AQ. I'd had TERRIBLE luck with being drawn out on that night, and wanted to just take the pot down right then and there, before he had a chance to hit his kicker if he DIDN'T have AQ. He thought about it for a minute, then said:

"I'm going to raise you 50.00, just to be sure you have it.", and put out a biscuit.

Normally a statement like that would set off an alarm bell or two. The 137th Rule of Aquisition says "THE WEAKER THEY LOOK, THE STRONGER THEY ARE", and that was definitely a statement designed to appear weak, but a few hands before, he and I had been in a hand with another player who was all-in. There was about 30.00 in the main pot, and 20.00 in the side pot. I had pocket 9s, and the flop came with one overcard, a J. Out of position, I bet 25.00 to find out where I was in the hand, and the player in seat 5 folded. He was really pissed when he saw my cards, saying he'd had JT, but was convinced I'd had him outkicked. Knowing he was frustrated by his losses, was trying to get even before he left, and was upset that he'd folded a better hand to me the last time we'd tangled, I did something I almost NEVER do, I looked at my cards to be sure which was which, then showed him my Ace.

He thought about that for awhile, talking to himself about his "Queen kicker". He seemed to be "Hollywooding" to me, and I told him so, saying he'd raised with Ace-paint every time I'd seen him have it all night, but had just limped into this hand before I'd raised, so if he was tring to sell me on his having a Queen kicker, I'd only believe it if saw it.

He responded by saying: "I won't show you my Queen, but I'll show you this." and turned up an Ace.

I thought about that for a minute. When he'd just called my bet on the flop, I thought he might be on a draw. When the T came on the turn and he'd check-raised me, I'd wondered if he'd had TT and made a set, or AT and hit his kicker. Showing the Ace ruled out TT, I figured the limp-call preflop ruled out AK and AQ. and he'd walked the dog several other times that night when he'd had two pair, so I decided I had the best hand. I looked at his chips, saw he had about 120.00 more, and put him all in.

He immediately called, turning up his AA. Ouch.

Now, while he absolutely outplayed the shit out of me on that hand, I am also absolutely convinced that I'm a better player than he is, so, the question remains, why are so many of my chips sitting in front of him? I came up with two primary reasons. 1) I am stupid, and 2), I am REALLY stupid.

I'd been outplaying this guy all night. The only two pots that he and I'd gone to showdown with that he'd won had been suck-outs. Every other time, I'd either had him outkicked, or had hit a straight or a flush that he hadn't even noticed. I'd also taken him off of better hands a number of times. I knew this because he's one of those guys who likes to show the cards he's folding, letting everyone know how tight he is and how good he is at making THE BIG LAYDOWN. I got overconfident and EXPECTED to win, either by having the best hand or by outplaying him, both of which I'd been doing since I sat in the game.

More importantly, while I'd discounted one tell (his acting weak), I'd also overlooked one glaring tell that absolutely should have let me get away from that hand. Know what it was?

When he showed me his Ace, he DIDN'T LOOK AT HIS CARDS before doing so! Think about it for a minute. He's trying to sell me AQ. He said he wouldn't show me the Queen, so wouldn't he have looked at his cards before turning one up to make sure he showed me the Ace, and not the Queen? Sure, he may have known which was which, but, that's a lot less likely than what the truth was; he knew it didn't matter which card he turned up, because they were BOTH Aces!

That was the little lie that told the big story; the subject of this post. Too bad I wasn't paying attention. What really stings is that exact tell won me my first live tournament, more than a year and a half ago, when I was a MUCH-less advanced player.

It was late in the tournament, there were four of us left out of the 20 who started. I was heads up with a kid who was a freakin' maniac. I flopped a Queen for top pair with my AQ and bet the pot. There were two Clubs on board, and I wasn't going to mess around. He called. I instantly put him on a draw. His standard move when he had ANYTHING was to bet or raise, The only time I'd seen him call on the flop all night long was when he was drawing at straights or flushes.

The turn was a Club, which concerned me; if he'd been on a flush draw, he'd hit it. He checked, I bet the pot to find out where I was in the hand, he just called. Maybe he'd decided to slow-play me, but every other time he'd hit a draw that night, he'd bet or raised it for value.

There was a blank on the river. He checked, I bet 1/2 the pot, and he pushed all-in!

As I sat there thinking about it, he said:

"If you call, baby, it's all over.", mimicking Scotty Nguyen when he'd won the 1998 World Series. I was pretty suspicious. First, this kid bluffed a lot. second, the 136th Rule of Aquisition says "MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, THE STRONGER THEY LOOK, THE WEAKER THEY ARE".

Now, I'm a table-talker. Honestly, more often than not, I don't pick much up, but, every once in awhile..........

"Got the flush?" I asked.

"Yup", he quickly responded.

"If you've got the flush", I said, "show me a club".

He looked at his cards, turned up the Ace of Clubs, and said: "See?"

I instantly called and turned up my top pair. He laughed, turned up the King of hearts and said:

"How'd you know?"

"You looked at your cards", I responded, "If you'd had two clubs in the hole, you wouldn't have had to look."

There was a lot of discussion about that among the other players at the table, with several saying he would have looked, regardless, to be sure he turned up the higher Club, but virtually every time I've seen someone show a card when they had a flush, they either say:

"Pick one", or they turn over a card without looking.

Besides, if he'd made a flush with his Ace, it would've been the nuts. If he was going to show a flush card in the hope of attracting a call, and he was going to look at his cards to be sure he showed me the RIGHT Club, the Club to show would be his low card, just in case I had a flush, too. If he showed his low flush card, I might think it's his high card and call with my flush. The only way he was showing the highest possible Club was if he was trying to sell me on his having the nuts so I'd go away.

If I was smart enough to make that read so long ago, when I was such a less-advanced player, why can't I do it now?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I still have a looonnnnngggggggg way to go.

Update: 05.08.06

I've been thinking about this situation since first I wrote this post. That's the reason I do it. The process of writing these posts causes me to think about the situations I'm relating, hopefully learning from them in the process (The 56th Rule of Aquisition: "IN EVERY MISTAKE LIES A LESSON."). Pondering this has inspired me to come up with the 252nd Rule of Aquisition: "IT'S NOT WHAT YOU KNOW, IT'S HOW WELL YOU APPLY WHAT YOU KNOW."

That actually deserves it's own post, which will come at a later date, but the "quick read" is that any time you think about a hand and find yourself slapping your forehead and saying "Doh!" after it's over and you've realized you missed something that should have been obvious to you, that you KNEW, but just didn't think of at the moment, you know that you need more drilling on the knowledge you already have. Knowledge is useless unless you can access and apply it in critical decisions; useless.

Thank You

You know, they're probably two of the most important words in the world: "Thank You". They say so much, and it's so easy to say them.

They're also one of my pet peeves. I absolutely hate it when a poker dealer doesn't thank me for a tip. Hate it!

Now, I'm a poker dealer myself. I know this issue from both sides; player and dealer. What I don't get is how it can be too much trouble to thank someone who has just GIVEN you money. That's right, given; it's a gift. There is absolutely no compunction for poker players to tip dealers. They do so out of generosity and courtesy.

One phenomonon dealers see soon after beginning to deal is that the more experienced, higher-stakes players tend to tip less than the less experienced, lower stakes players; many, a lot less. Part of me doesn't blame them. When you calculate the effect of rake and tips on your earnings (something a more experienced player is likely to do), it's easy to become resentful of them. There's nothing you can do about the rake, so the only place you can really take that resentment out is in the tipping.

On the other hand, you know what the rake is and that there is a custom of tipping when you sit down at the table. It's an understood expense; a cost of doing business, so to speak. When you choose to play in the house, you choose to accept all the conditions of play. That's not to say, however, that I believe tipping is, or should be, automatic.

My family was in the restaurant business for a big part of my childhood. I was washing dishes back in the kitchen at 11, and bussing tables by 12. Watching waitresses (many of whom were HOT) gave me a lot of early lessons on tipping, not to mention some of my favorite adolescent fantasies. One custom that was common then, but is almost unknown now, is the "penny tip".

When a waitress gave "above and beyond" service, customers would often leave them a generous tip, plus a penny. The purpose of the penny was to let the waitress know that they weren't stupidly overtipping, they were showing appreciation for that server's efforts. Concurrently, customers feeling they'd gotten poor service would frequently leave a sub-standard tip (or no tip at all), plus a penny. This let the waitress know they were disappointed, not cheap.

All my life, I've tipped in the same manner. It's never been automatic with me. Average service gets an average tip, good service gets a good tip, and bad service gets a bad tip. Rather than leave a penny on top of a big tip for excellent service, which isn't widely understood anymore, I make it a point to bring that excellent service to the manager's attention on my way out. When the service sucks, I leave a penny, and screw 'em if they can't figure it out. I'm also likely to bring that crummy service to the manager's attention, too.

Now, I don't sit at the poker table with a stack of pennys, but I absolutely adjust my tips to the job the dealer is doing. Since I deal professionally, I'm a pretty good judge of that. While I tip better than average, as a dealer, I feel I have to set a good example for the other players, good dealers get better tips; bad dealers get worse ones, my tips aren't dependent upon the cards the dealer throws me, they have no control over that. My tips also aren't dependent upon whether the dealer makes an honest mistake or two; shit happens. There is one thing, though, that my tips are TOTALLY dependent upon; the dealer's thanking me.

When a dealer recieves a tip, they're supposed to lightly rap it against their bank, alerting everyone in the game that they're about to take money off the table. Then, they're supposed to make eye contact with the tipper and thank them while, at the same time, holding their hand out, palm up, with the tip in it, so that all players (and security) can see they're taking nothing more than the tip off the table. They then put the tip in their shirt pocket, bank, tip cup or fanny pack (depending on the policy of their casino), and get the game moving again.

As a player, I believe the most important part of that process is the "thank you". Maybe it's because I'm a dealer, and regularly have to hear the whining and complaining of so many of my contemporaries, bitching about whether this player or that "stiffed" them, etc., but that "thank you" just gripes my ass when they don't give it.

Most players would be appalled to hear how dealers think. I'm here to tell you that poker dealers, while not making as much as many players think they do, don't do bad at all. Especially when you take into account the amount of training and education they have to put in before getting the job; not much. For most of the dealers in my casino, this is the best-paying job (by far) that they've ever had.

You'd think that would cause some appreciation, but, that's often not the case. For example, not long ago, I was back in the EDR (Employee Dining Room), sitting at a table with three other dealers as I ate my dinner. Their conversation quickly turned to "stiff stories" (tales of how customers had stiffed them). I didn't say anything, stiff stories tend to annoy me. I could keep my mouth shut no longer, however, when one of them griped about how she'd pushed a pot of over 600.00 to a player and "only" gotten a tip of 5.00.

"How much should you have gotten?", I asked.

"Well", she said, "It's standard for a waitress to get 15%, he could have tipped me at least 5%".

"So, he should have tipped you 30.00 on that pot?" I asked.

"At least", was the response.

I sat there in stunned silence as the other two dealers agreed with her, chiming in with their own stories of big pots and tips of "only" 5 or 10 dollars. Not a month ago, the woman telling me how she'd just been "stiffed" told me she used to work an office job where she made about half of what she was making now! Now, none of these dealers are players. They got their jobs because they heard they paid well, not because of any love of the game. I took that into account, and decided to try and explain things to them.

I pointed out that we weren't in business with those players. When they lost big, they couldn't come back to us and have us give them 15% of their losses, so why should we be in for 15% of their winnings? I pointed out that a waitress usually had to work 30 minutes or more to get their 15% tip, and that tip was usually in the neighborhood of 2 to 5 dollars. We run a hand in under 3 minutes (usually in SIGNIFICANTLY under 3 minutes), it's unrealistic to expect 15% of the pot. I also pointed out that, at the end of the night, we do as well as good waitstaff, and don't have to work nearly as hard.

Well, they didn't like that. I got a litany of complaints, many with resentment attached. Basically, it boiled down to their feeling "certain dealers" (like me) made significantly more in tips than they did because they were also players, and players "take care of their own", etc.

I told them it was simple math. A competent dealer will average 1.00 per hand. That being the case, it then makes sense for a dealer to work at improving their skills so they can get out more hands per down. If two dealers both work 10 downs in a night, with one dealer averaging 13 hands per down, and the other averaging 16, the faster dealer will average 3.00 more per down. Not much, huh? But, over the 10 downs they both dealt that night, that's a difference of 30.00. spread that difference out over a 5-day workweek and the difference is now 150.00. 52 weeks in a year makes the difference 7800.00, and that's a lot of money! All from just 3 more hands per down.

I asked them how much work they'd done outside of the workplace, honing their technique to improve their speed, and told them of some of the things I'd done, and still do. I also pointed out that was why I was always "in a hurry" at the table. I NEVER rush players, but I've worked hard to make all my mechanics as quick and efficient as possible. Speed = $.

But wait, there's more. Many players see me making an effort to get out more hands for them; they frequently comment on it. They also tip it. It's not a huge amount, but occasionally turning a 1.00 tip into a 2.00 tip, or a 2.00 tip into a 3.00 tip because a few players appreciate the efforts I'm making on their behalf adds up at the end on the night/week/year. I told them they would definitely see a difference in their earnings if they increased their efficiency, and focused on making a conscious effort to get out more hands. As a player, I like to see "quick hands" in a dealer. It makes me think they're working to get more hands out for me, and I tip it.

But wait, there's more. I asked them how much time and effort they'd put in outside the workplace learning the rules of the game, how to read boards, etc. Players expect a dealer to be an AUTHORITY. When you don't know the rules of the game; when you can't read the board and instantly declare the winner of the hand, it lessens the respect they have for you. On the other hand, being known for having an encyclopedic knowledge of the rules, having players see you be able to instantly read the board and declare the winner causes their respect for you to go up, and they tip that. Again, it's not a huge amount, but it adds up over time. It isn't easy, I STILL work on my hand reading every day, but it's well worth the extra effort.

It was clear they didn't agree with what I'd said. As a matter of fact, it made their resentment grow even greater. later that night, I heard how I'd been "lording it over them" back in the EDR and how I was such an obnoxious know-it-all. When will I ever learn to just keep my mouth shut?

Anyway, back to the point of this rant. I believe it's attitudes like these that cause many dealers to develop a sense of entitlement; they're SUPPOSED to get tips; and good ones at that! When you look at it like that, it's pretty easy to let something like "thank you" slip pretty far down on your list of priorities. I'm frequently appalled at how many dealers in my casino don't thank customers for their tips, UNLESS they're big ones (something you're specifically NOT supposed to do. A professional dealer treats all players the same, regardless of how they tip). When they don't thank me, it's on!

As I said earlier, I consider myself a generous tipper. As a dealer, I'm grateful for ANY tip. If a player is kind enough to throw me a buck, I am glad to have it and express my thanks verbally. As a player, I ALWAYS tip. If all I take down is the blinds, the dealer gets a buck. On any pot over ten bucks, they get two; 20-50.00. three; 50-100.00, four, and so on. I know this negatively affects my earnings, but I'm playing in the casino where I deal, and I think it's important to set a good example. Also, many of the dealers in the box have been players while I've been dealing. A lot of them have been extremely generous in their tips to me. I try to remember that and return their generosity in kind.

The point is, no matter how entitled a dealer may feel, I tip significantly above the average. If they're not thanking me, they're not thanking most players. When this happens, I don't say anything, I just cut my next tip in half. If they fail to thank me that time, I stop tipping them altogether. If they approach me about it off the table, I'll tell them why. If they don't ask, I don't tell. The next time they deal to me, it starts over. One FTT (Failure To Thank) and I cut the tip in half. Two and I'm done.

The most interesting occurence of this was when I went on a pretty serious heater, winning 5 or 6 hands in pretty short order. By the third win, I was done tipping the dealer, who didn't thank me either of the two times previosuly in that down when I'd tipped him. After two hands of not being tipped, the dealer had the gall to stop the game and ask if he'd done something to offend me! I told him, right in front of the other players, exactly why I'd quit tipping him. To his credit, he took it well, and has been a lot better about thanking customers ever since.

Here's the biggest thing about this. Thanking people isn't just courteous, it's smart. Many times, poker players won't tip, not because they don't want to, but because they're so excited and relieved to have won the hand that they simply forget to do it. Every time a player throws you a tip, if you make sure you thank them in a noticable way, you're also essentially saying:

"Attention, all poker players who may have won a hand and forgotten to tip, here is a friendly reminder that this dealer really appreciates your tokes!". I wish I could count the times a player has heard me thank someone for a tip and said:

"Oh, I forgot you on that last hand I won", and tossed me a toke.

Dealers who don't thank players for their tips aren't merely ingrates, they're pretty dumb, as well.

Ok, end of rant.


(for now)