***

If you're just tuning in, see The Big Pair Limp Question for background.

Let me begin by acknowledging, there is no right answer to this question. Lee Jones' initial argument in favor of Esfandiari's move was convincing and sound in its foundation (maybe someday I'll convince him to guest post here and fully explain his reasoning).

It simply comes down to a "What would I do" question. The answer: I wouldn't limp with pocket queens under the gun in that particular situation.

With 20 or so players left, Esfandiari had the chip lead and double the chip average. I don't recall whether he'd played much with Stig Top-Rasmussen, but I know they had just recently been seated at the TV table together. Still, Stig had developed a reputation. He was a wild, celebratory, loose, hyper-aggressive Danish player who occasionally made moves that could politely be described as unconventional. I don't know if Esfandiari was specifically targetting Stig here or anyone who might raise. I do know, however, that Esfandiari was justified in believing in his big pairs. They'd been holding up for two days and played a large role in his chip lead.

Here, The Magcian had a choice. He could raise or limp. Limping wass sure to be suspect and opened him up to the possibility of playing queens against a wide variety of hands. Raising, though, would possibly kill his action. Which is worse?

Proponents of Esfandiari's move suggest that limping could serve to incite more action (as it obviously did), and, in the event everybody limps, Esfandiari could simply play his hand differently than he might otherwise. Again, a fine argument. In the event someone raises, he can re-raise and hopefully take down the pot right there. Thing is, that didn't happen.

So, what happens if he raises pre-flop? He might get a call, he might not. Stig might make the move in the big blind or he might not. There are other possibilities as well, and they are the reasons I think Esfandiari might have been smarter to take a more traditional line. Stig might have made a more conventional re-raise, at which point Esfandiari could've re-raised to announce the true strength of his hand. Or, Stig might have smooth called pre-flop, whiffed the flop, and given Esfandiari a chance to take down the pot then.

Again, none of those things happened. Here we saw a perfect storm of two gamblers' plays meeting over a massive pile of chips. Esfandiari was obviously the smarter of the two, but in the end it didn't matter.

I couldn't help but continuing to delve into the hyopthetical, however. It occurred to me, that Stig also makes that same move with Ace-King. In that case, Esfandiari has forced himself to play the biggest pot of the tournament on a coin flip when there is still a signficiant number of people left in event. Nobody likes to take a coin flip in that situation, but that would've been the result. The counter to that argument is valid as well...that it stood a greater chance of being a hand other than AK, and hence it was the right play.

The greatest argument in favor of Esfandiari's move is that he got his money in as a favorite. He gave him chance to have a gigantic chip lead (read: utility) with 20 players remaining. The fact that the result did not go the right way is irrelevant. Again, it's hard to argue that. We make decisions based the odds. Sometimes they don't go our way.

There is a counter to this arguement however. While the utility of having nearly 3 million chips when everybody else has under 1 million is immense, there is something to be said for having 1.6 million when everbody else has less than a million and the blinds are still at 5,000/10,000/1,000. It's a question of whether you want to risk giving up the only power you have for a chance at obtaining more power.

In the end, there is nothing wrong with Esfandiari's play. It was a gambler's move aimed at giving him a better shot at owning the tournament. It missed and so did he. Critics (I suppose this one included) would say that Esfandiari's attempt to give him a better chance at winning the tournament ended up in severely reducing his chance at winning the tournament. It's one thing to not go out like Broomcorn's uncle. It's another thing to have a chip lead and take a gamble for half your stack.

After I wrote the initial post, there came a time I was able to stand right over Stig's shoulder as his stack slowly dwindled back down to where it started before the hand with Esfandiari. I watched Stig clash with another unconventional line. This time it worked the way it was supposed to.

(From the PokerStars Blog): In one of the biggest pots yet, Henrik Gwinner came in for a raise and PokerStars qualifier Michael Martin called. Stig Top-Rasmussen re-raised from the big blind for an additional 190,000. Again, Martin called. The flop came out J92 and Rasmussen almost immediately pushed in. The only thing faster was Martin's call for his entire stack--516,000 more. Rasmussen shows pocket sevens to Martin's slow-played pocket aces. The board bricks out and Martin wins a massive pot, totalling around 1.5 million.

What's interesting, is that of all the guys involved in these big pots, none of them finished better than fifth place. As for the two involved in the hand in question, Stig finished in tenth place. Esfandiari ended up finishing in eighth.

I think this all goes to show two things. First, one hand does not always make a tournament. Second, I'm probably more conservative than the vast number of tournament players and that's probably why I finish second more than first.

Quick background: Antonio "The Magician" Esfandiari has been running over the tournament for two days. With the chip average just over 600,000, he has 1.6 million or so. He's been moved to the TV table with a rather loose-aggressive Dane named Stig Top-Rasmussen. Rasmussen has about 700,000 chips. Blinds are at 5,000/10,000/1,000. Twenty-one players are still left in the event. First place pays more than €2 million.

The hand (from the PokerStars Blog): Antonio limped UTG to see the button and small blind limp as well. Stig, in the big blind, thought about the situation for a bit and then pushed his 700k chips across the line. Almost without hesitation, Antonio called. The others ran for cover before Antonio turned over QQ. Stig somewhat sheepishly showed his AT. When the smoke cleared, the board read 7 3 4 A J and Stig was stacking about 1.5 million in chips.

You choose: I'm still thinking about the hand, but I have 90% definite opinion. Lee Jones differs. Tell me what you think and why.

A) Antonio, based on his chip position, was wrong to limp with queens

B) Antonio, based on his chip position, was right to limp with queens.

I'd also, just for entertainment value, be interested to hear your opinion on Stig's play.

A few nights later, I was playing $2/$5. My table was as nitty and boring as it could possibly be. Two tables away, my buddy, The Mark, was sitting in the seven seat with a structure of chips that was starting to make me envious. It had started as $500. It had grown to $1,000. When I looked up an hour later, he was stacking green birds in stacks of 20 and had more than $3,000 in front of him.

All the while, I was watching my stack go up and down by $100 or so at a time and wondering what I was doing wrong. I mean, was Mark just running well or was I playing a bad game? Sure, I finally picked up the night where I nearly quadrupled my $500 buy-in, but that night was the exception and not the rule. Most nights, it was up or down $200 or so--not necessarily the kind of poker that inspires a player to write, much less play. With Mark, not to mention G-Rob, and select number of other good players on the G-Vegas circuit, big stacks and big wins seem more the rule than the exception. Sure, they all have their nights that end in temporary disaster. Still, along the way, I've always wondered what it is that they have that I don't.

And that gives me, if you will, the red ass.

***

My post-Vegas catch-up session has involved less catching up than I would like. Between house guests and family trips, I've played a grand total of one hour of poker online and no live cards in the past month. It is, without question, the longest I've gone without playing poker since March 2003. As such, I've not been reading as much as I would normally about the game. I've been scanning Bloglines, but that's about it. One day, however, I noticed a long rant from cash game guru Miami Don that said "MTT's are gimmick poker and not many people make money at them."

I sat back and let it sink in.

"Well, damn, Don," I thought. "I've always considered myself a better tournament player than cash player. Does that mean I'm just a gimmicky loser?"

Of course, I knew Don wasn't trying to insult me. After all, if one looks at my online stats for the past year, they show that while I won a good chunk of cash, I wasn't profitable on the one site where I am tracked. Now, I know that I am a lifetime winner in tournaments, but if I'm being honest, it's not really enough to call me a Winner. After all, you don't see me making a living in Vegas, right?

It took me all of five seconds to understand Don's point. Still, I knew he was going to start a conversation that was going to stoke some hot tempers. As a subject that was close to my poker heart, I decided that I would wait and not read anything else on the subject while I considered how I really felt.

Over the course of the next several days, I got word that Don's post did, indeed, get some people all fired up. I made it a point not to read any of it, just to be sure I didn't let friendships sway my opinion. I'll go back and read it all after I finish this up.

While Don never overtly asked the question, it was almost implied, and so I'll ask it here (at the risk of repeating what other better writers and thinkers might have already produced):

Which player has more skill: The cash game pro or the tournament specialist?

What you see below is a stream-of-consciousness formation of my opinion.

***

Let's look at the G-Vegas circuit. For the purposes of familiarity here, I'm going to refer to five people you might have read about. [Note: These are all just my interpretations and are open to much debate, especially after a few drinks.]

G-Rob--No limit hold'em cash game player who dabbles in tournaments to results that don't satisfy him. Plays cash games much better live than he does online.

The Mark--Great live cash game player who will play any flop game. Shows no success online. Routinely crushes live single table satellites.

BadBlood--Conservative player who balances live and online play as well as balances cash and tournament play. Maintains an equal level of skill in both cash games and tournaments.

Eddie the Dealer--Loose aggressive player who shows great talent live/online and cash/tournament. With the exception of a leak he's aware of that can be detrimental to his bankroll, a solid all-around player.

Otis--Inconsistent player with one-time big success in online tournaments and cash game play. Live results in cash games have been modest to non-existent. Live tournament play has shown mixed results, with most success coming in events with fields from 30-200 players.

To answer the above question about who is the most skillful player--tournament specialist or cash game pro--I asked myself, "Of the five players above, who would I stake with the hopes of getting a decent return on my money." The answer, as you might expect, was not as definitive as most people might have you believe.

I would stake all of them, as long as I got to pick what they were playing.

Say I have $10,000 in my pocket. Frankly, I don't want to give all of it to any of them. I'm going to put G-Rob in a $1/$2 game with a $500 cap at Caesar's. I'm going to put Mark in five $500 live one-table tournaments. I'm going to put Blood and Eddie in a rotation of live and online cash games and tournaments. I'm going to keep $2,500 for myself and I'm going to play exclusively online--mostly in middle-buy-in--tournaments.

But that doesn't answer the question. Sure, it figures out where I have the best expectation, but it doesn't answer which among us is a better poker player. It only points out who is better at what game and where I stand the best chance of making some money on my investment. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and only time will change that.

Of course, I looked back at my history of staking people or buying pieces of people and discovered something. I have never staked anyone in a cash game, but I have put money into ten or more people playing tournaments. In fact, I've got money in action right now despite not playing a hand of poker myself.

Why is that?

The simple fact is, Don's initial statement is basically true when applied to big buy-in live tournaments.

A couple of years ago, I sat in a steakhouse in Dallas with some very good poker thinkers, including someone with a WSOP bracelet and Nolan Dalla. Over a meal of filet mignon and a half dozen other meats, we figured up the minimum amount of money someone should have to comfortably go on the pro tournament circuit for a year. When figuring buy-ins, airfare, hotel, food, and any other companion expenses (airfare, hotel, and food for spouses, nannies, children, etc), we decided that a player would need about $500,000 to survive a year without fear of going broke.

When only the top 10-15% of people are making any money, going for any significant length of time without a final table is going to end up breaking a lot of players--not to mention putting a real hurtin' on their psyche. It is not a sustainable lifestyle unless you are one of the top tournament players around. The time commitment alone is enough to make live tournaments -EV for most players.

However, that changes in a heartbeat when you look at online tournament pros. Gone are the costs of travel. Gone is the week-long commitment to one tournament. If you look at players like JohnnyBax and Rizen, two of the top online tournament pros, you'll see the kind of money that can be made. These guys and hundreds of other players spend their entire days playing nothing but tournaments, thus giving themselves much better chances at final tables and big money. Sure, it's not going to be a million bucks in one shot, but it can be a damned good living. In fact, it can be a much better living than someone playing small to mid-stakes cash games live.

Playing tournaments live or online takes talent. I'm not saying that because I enjoy it or excel at it. I'm saying it because it's true. Sure, there are a lot of crapshoot tournaments out there, but when a tournament is structured correctly, more often than not, the cream will rise. If you only look among this community of poker bloggers, it's not hard to spot who has a chance at being a profitable tournament player and who does not. Look at guys like Absinthe, Hoy, and bayne. Those are guys who prove that 1) MTTs are not a gimmick and 2) It takes a special talent to be profitable in tournaments.

However, it goes without saying, I think, that it takes just as much--and maybe more--talent to excel in cash games. There are so many variables that come into play in cash that don't in tournaments that one could reasonably argue that cash game play takes--if not more--at least a very different kind of poker talent.

If we accept all of the above--that both styles of poker are profitable and require different talents to play each--then I think it logically follows that the best poker player is the one who can be profitable in both games. Sure, there aren't many of those people out there, but they exist. And they are the people I don't want to face at the table.

Location: The Spring Hotel
Game: $1/$/2 NL

I'm under the gun plus one with pocket aces. The Dancer raises to $9 under the gun. I make it $25 to go. The small blind, a pro (yeah, a pro in a $1/$2 game--it's that profitable) drops five red chips in the pot and makes a groan that suggests he's calling with a hand he knows is beat, but is hoping to hit. The Dancer calls. Both players check in the dark. The flop comes J96 with two hearts. I make it $75 and the pro raises to $250. At this point, I'm confident I'm still ahead of him, but our stacks aren't small and I know there's a good chance we'll be playing for all our chips. The pro started the hand with around $800. I had just more than $600. The Dancer had close to $400.

I'm on the verge of making a decision about whether to push when The Dancer announces he's all in. It's now quite clear that I'm no longer ahead and probably way behind. I immediately put The Dancer on a set. Furthermore, I know that, even if I jam, the pro has to call. After a minute or so of thought, I mucked.

Now, looking back, this was the easiest of the three laydowns (and the best). As it turned out, The Dancer had a set of nines. The pro had KT suited in hearts for the second nut flush draw and gutshot straight draw. The result: An ace fell on the turn, giving me top set (had I stayed in the hand). The river was a heart, giving the pro a flush and the pot.

In retrospect, I'm happy with how this turned out. Had the players not checked in the dark and one of them had bet, I could've driven the draw out of the pot. In that case, I still would've been behind, but justified in the suck-out I would've laid on the Dancer.

Location: The Gaelic Game
Game: $1/$2 NL (but playing with no max and more like a $2/$5 game)

I was in the middle of a bad night. The game was drunk (I was not), the waitresses were drunk and had spilled two drinks on me, and I was stuck. The max on the game had been lifted a few weeks before and the stacks on the table ranged between $400 and $2,500. I'd been card dead most of the night and the victim of a couple bad suckouts. The table was rowdy. UPS/Dan Heimiller look-alike had just dropped a $2,000 pot to Rhodes after bluffing into Rhodes' pocket aces on a scary board.

I'm under the gun plus one with pocket aces. Rhodes, still high from scooping the pot, makes it $12 to go. I pop it to $35. The big blind, a nit, called. Rhodes called. The flop came down KQx rainbow. Both players checked to me and I made it $80 to play. The nit folded and Rhodes quicky raised to $200. The check-raise was frustrating and a little scary. Four hands seemed likely: KK, QQ, KQ, or AK. The only one I could beat was AK.

Here's where I fucked this one up: I should've folded or jammed there. It's one or the other and after thinking about it for a while, I recognize that. I was into the hand for a little more than $100. Rhodes had me easily covered (I had about $800 to his $2000). Instead--and damned if typing this doesn't make me feel more like an idiot--I min-raised. At the time, the logic went like this: Represent the set, put him to a decision. Looking back, there are so many holes in that logic that I'm ashamed to even be writing this post. Of course, Rhodes started monologuing. "You're so tight. What is it? A set? What a cold deck." After three full minutes, Rhodes announced, "I'm all in."

My cards hit the muck before he finished his sentence.

I thought about this hand more than any of the other three. I made a lot of mistakes in the hand, the min-raise being the most damning of them.

At the time, Rhodes said to me, "You were beat." I didn't know whether to believe him at the time. Later, and for reasons I can't specify here, I developed intelligence that strongly suggests Rhodes held KQ and that I was drawing slim had I stayed in the hand.

Location: The Golden Moon
Game: $2/$5 NL

I'd been playing a good game for a little more than four hours. It was a holiday weekend and the game was loose. I'd put together a decent profit playing a mixture of tight-aggressive and loose-aggressive poker. I'd made only one mistake the entire afternoon and it only cost me $50. I was with relatives who were ready to leave. As they racked up, I decided I'd play...one...last...hand. By the time the cards were dealt, my brother-in-law was standing over my shoulder. I peeked at the first card. Ace of diamonds. "Okay, I thought. Unless the next card is an ace or a king, I'm getting up." Sure enough, ace of spades.

There's one limper in front of me and I make it $25 to play. The small blind (a sweating, limping, wreck of a man who had already been to the ATM to re-load and had since quadrupled his stack with some very aggressive play) called and the limper called. The flop came down 993 rainbow. I wasn't worried about the limper (a lady who never bluffed, called a lot of raises, and folded to almost any bet). The small blind, though, worried me. I watched him as the flop came down and he flinched. It was barely noticable, but it was there. Both players checked to me and I bet $60.

Before my chips hit the felt, the small blind was grabbing for his stacks. He pushed out $260 and put his chin on his chest. The limper folded and I went in the tank. The bet smelled like a bluff. The overbet was fishy. I knew I still had around $700 left to play with. A re-raise would commit me. Just calling would leave me blind. Based on what I'd seen, the guy's range here was very wide. Putting him on a hand was nearly impossible. I could only narrow it down to TT, JJ, 33, or any hand with a nine it.

Then I did something I rarely do. I tried to get the guy to talk. I asked if he had the nine. No response. No movement. I looked for a tell that G-Rob and BadBlood use all the time. It was absent. I wanted to hear the guy's voice, so I asked him how much he had left. I already knew he had around $900 sitting in front of him. He mumbled something and a local at the table announced it was around $900 (I shot the dude a dirty look, but he didn't care that he was getting in my hand).

After another minute of thought, I mucked face-up and told the guy to have a good weekend. The guy pushed his cards into the muck and dragged his pot.

In retrospect, I don't like this laydown as much as I did when I first made it. I think I was happy with my profit for the day and didn't want to lose a $1,600 pot in front of my in-laws. I think there was a 50/50 chance I was behind. Given the chance to re-play the hand, I think I should've kept playing the hand. I think if I had called, I might have been able to pick up something on the turn. Or maybe not. Maybe I should've jammed. I don't know. I've only been thinking about this hand for five days, so maybe I'll find some enlightenment after some more thought.

***

So, there are three hands that I either played well or badly. You tell me.

I'm not fully in tune with this topic yet. I'm not even sure where I'm going with it. I can only sum up the general premise. Then, perhaps at a later date, I'll be able to fully explain what I mean.

Of course, I don't want to get stuck. I don't want to have to play from behind. I don't ever want to lose.

However, in dealing with my wife, I often start off by acting badly. Whether I am being selfish, lazy, or otherwise manish, I tend to not act in a way I know my wife wants. After doing this for a given amount of time, I realize I'm not acting in a winning manner and starting acting--in earnest--the way I know I should behave around my wife. It usually takes twice as long to make nice-nice as it takes to make her mad. Had I just acted right in the beginning, life would've been better all around.

The same, it seems, goes with poker. I begin many sessions by playing loose, aggressive poker. I may not be playing badly, per se, but I am not playing my usual game. When we play a game that is not our "A" game, we aren't playing optimally. As such, I begin many (if not most) sessions by getting stuck a little, or, more recently, a lot. Then, I spend the rest of the session getting even. Since it is possible for me to get even and sometimes actually recover enough to make a profit, I have to assume that I have the ability to play the game at that level. It's just a matter of convincing myself to play the right way.

So, I'm not getting stuck on purpose in either case. In reality, I think there is a selfish gambler in me that wants to see how much I can get by with. Can I play poker six nights a week with setting off the bad marriage-o-meter? Can I check-raise with second pair and get my opponent to fold? In most cases, the answer is no on both counts. And yet, I try.

There is a reason why good people can get divorced. There is a reason why good players can lose. I am fortunate that my marriage is solid and I am always improving my married man behavior. I'm learning that it's better to give up some of the selfish things I enjoy for the relative tranquliity of not having to dig out of a hole.

Now, I need to teach myself to do the same in poker.

That is, the game starts when I sit down. Not when I'm stuck.

I've put out a strong raise pre-flop, made a strong continuation bet after the flop and pushed all in on the turn. I must have a pretty good hand, right? Well, I don't. I was bluffing. At best, I have a draw. But you can't know that, right? And when you click call and flip over top pair, top kicker, it's time for me to ask the question.

I think I'm getting tired of hearing it. Isn't it just a little bit possible that I've developed a betting pattern that easy to spot. Isn't it possible that that particular opponent knows that I play my strong hands soft and my weak hands strong?

I'm seeing a growing trend of people who are personally offended when their opponent reads them correctly. It doesn't matter if your opponent was ahead when all the money went into the pot, it's that there's NO WAY he could honestly believe he was ahead, so it must have been a bad call on his part.

Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but one of the first things I had to do to grow as a player was to stop assuming my opponent held monsters every time they bet like they did. Just as they're reading you, you have to read them, and trust those reads. Sometimes they'll be wrong and sometimes you'll be wrong.

Bottom line: I have a hard time believing it's ever a bad call if the person making the call is ahead when the money goes into the pot. Just because you're representing more than you have doesn't mean I have to believe it.

When I have planned an outdoor party down to the last drop of booze, I look at the thunderstorm forecast and say, "Well, the weather people usually get it wrong. Party on."

And when it rains, I get sad. And I get mad. And somehow I find a way to blame the weatherman. That is, because he is usually wrong, I shouldn't have felt to compelled to believe him.

See, idealism is the worst trait a poker player can have.

The grand masters of poker have long offered one of the greatest pieces of poker wisdom: Good players fall to suckouts far more often than they suck out. Why? Because good players do not usually put themselves in position to suck out and bad players do.

This is true, in large part. One thing it fails to address, however, is a growing breed of players who cling so tightly to the Suckout Maxim that they cannot accept that what should be not always is..

To wit: Pocket kings are so pretty at a shorthanded final table that my opponent's only fear is that he won't get action with them. So, he limps in from the small blind. Getting short on chips, I find A6s and jam. My opponent calls in an instant and falls into an apopleptic fit when the flop drops an ace and the turn comes as a six.

"Incredible," he said. "What a trap."

As I went on to chop the tournament with two other opponents, I couldn't help but tap the glass once: "I would've folded to a raise."

My opponent had deluded himself into seeing only that pocket kings should beat any random hand in the big blind. Then he compounded his problem by making a sick mistake that helped me win a lot of money and forced him to accept a lesser payday. In short, in poker, it's not about what should be. It is about what is.

That example doesn't fully illustrate what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the guy who holds pocket aces, raises pre-flop, gets one caller, and then sees a flop of KTT. He bets out and his opponent min-raises. So, the guy pops him back. Now, the opponent pushes in the rest of his sizable stack and our anti-hero calls with his aces -- only to lose to KT.

Anyone who read the above paragaph knew that the opponent had at least a ten in his hand. Mr. Pocket Aces probably even suspected it. However, he was so caught up in how his aces should win, that he was willing to get bounced from the tournament because he refused to accept what was actually happening. What's more, Mr. Pocket Aces will later tell his friends how some donkey played KT to a raise and how a bad beat knocked him out of the tournament. True, a donkey played KT to a raise. And true, Mr. Pocket Aces suffered a semi-bad beat on the flop. That said, it was not a bad beat that knocked him out of the tournament. The bad beat happened--in poker time--a long time before he exited the tournament. This guy is on the rail because he was caught up in the should and ignoring the is.

The telling of bad beat stories is a sickness and the burgeoning poker world is full hypochondriacs. As a poker writer of sorts, I hear more than my fair share. And, I'll admit that I even tell a few from time to time (let me tell you about my pocket aces versus Q9 for a whole helluva lot of money...). That said, the greatest service you as a poker player can do for the poker community is to never tell a bad beat story again.

Last year, I offered my poker tilt definitions. It received a good response and it got me thinking about how loosely people define bad beats. See, that's part of the real sickness. People disguise their bad beat stories in hopes that you won't recognize what you're hearing. Often times, it's not a bad beat they are describing. It's bad play. Still, they expect your sympathy.

First, let's embrace the definition of "bad beat" boiled down to its marrow by the venerable Toby Bochan of About.com:

Bad Beat: When a very strong hand that is a statistical favorite to win loses to a much weaker hand that hits a lucky draw, it’s called a “bad beat.”

We all know that, but we need to embrace it before we move on to the kinds of bad beat stories we hear every day. Ready?

The "Pity Me" Bad Beat Story-- Told by people who get no greater pressure in life than having people pay attention to them for the wrong reasons. Outside of poker, these people are prone to hypochondria, Munchausen by Proxy, and general whining about how rough their life is. Pocket kings cracked by deuces? Come on, how bad is my life?

The "Tell Me I'm Good" Bad Bad Story -- Told by people who are so insecure with their own play that they can't be sure it was a bad beat until four people have told them so, thus validating the story-tellers skill and making him feel better about himself. Outside of poker, these people generally have small penises or suffer from premature ejacualtion issues.

The Disguised Bad Bad Story-- Told by people who want to appear smarter than they think they are, the Disguised Bad Beat Story is often hidden under a cheesecloth of hand analysis. It begins, "Tell me what you think of this hand. See, I raised pre-flop..." and generally ends, "What do you think of my play there?" Outside of poker, these people are middle managers in mid-sized companies. They ended up in management without a great deal of fomal education and as such need people to think they are smart and keen on poker hand analysis.

The "Not Actually a" Bad Bad Story-- Told by people who tend to make mountains out of molehills. "You see that? I get pocket queens and they get cracked by big slick. Then I get big slick and lose to pocket fives. I NEVER win a race!" outside of poker, these people believe they always end up on the wrong line at the grocery store, always hit red lights intead of green, and believe they always pick up the milk that is on the verge of expiration.

The "By Way of Explanation" Bad Beat Story-- Told by people spotted no longer sitting in tournament who feel the need to explain why they are no longer in action. "You get knocked out, Jimmy?" "Oh, man, you shoulda seen this donkey I was up against..." Outside of poker, these people are the ones who use "creative differences" for the reason they are unemployed.

The "I should admit I blew it, but I'm not going to" Bad Beat Story-- Told by people who limp with big pairs, call off all their chips in level 1 with AKo, or call an all-in with the ass-end of a straight (with a flush on board) and end up losing their stacks. Outside of poker, these are the people who cheat on their wives and get pissed when they get caught, speed and can't believe they got a ticket, and don't understand what it means to look BOTH ways before crossing the street.

The "Re-Suck" Bad Beat Story--Told by people who suck out on the flop and then are amazed that it's possible the original better hand can re-suck on the turn or river. Outside of poker, these people are the people who get promotions using lies an deceit, are eventually discovered to be worthless human beings, and end up getting fired for thier worthlessness.

You can do yourself and the rest of us a favor. After losing a stack or getting knocked out of a tourrnament, don't say anything at all. If someone asks you what happened, use either two words or three words to finish the conversation:

Two word explanation-- "Bad beat."
Three word explanation-- "I'm an idiot."

Everything else is just wasted breath. Furthermore, choosing between the two-word explanation and three word explanation will actually help you decide who was actually at fault for your exit. Was it really a bad beat. Or are you an idiot?

I just scratched the surface here. Feel free to add your definitions in the comments section.

It's a game show that better demonstrates the human nature of greed even more than the short-lived game show named after the deadly sin. Of course, that old game show featured our own Joe Speaker, but I digress. And this time, we have a shiny-domed Howie Mandell instead of Hall of Fame host Chuck Woolery. Yet again, I digress.

In case you haven't seen, Deal or No Deal features 26 cases with amounts ranging from a penny to a million dollars. You select a single case which is yours if you keep it until the end. Then you begin opening the rest of the cases which eliminates the possibilities of those amounts being in your case.

Periodically, the "banker" tries to buy your case from you based on what's probably a rather simple formula that factors in the dollar amounts still in play. In other words, pick a bunch of cases with small amounts and there's a better chance your case has a big amount and, thus, you'll get a higher offer from the banker.

When the game gets down to about a half-dozen cases or so, the game gets really interesting. I sit on my couch and think, "How could they turn down more than $100,000?" But then I realize it's a lot easier to say that when I'm not the one staring at the possibility of five or ten times that amount.

And maybe that's the mindset we face at the poker table on a regular basis. How many times have you looked down at the nut flush draw, faced an all-in that gave you the wrong odds, and yet you called anyway? How many times have you faced an all-in reraise while holding pocket Q's and had to decided to risk it all on a hunch?

Humans are greedy by nature. Americans are greedier than most. Poker players are the greediest of all. We see that flush draw and imagine the possibilities. We see that big pocket pair and think it can hold up. We're often thinking less about the cards and more about the pot. It's in our nature.

The best poker players fight this urge. Greed is a powerful force. And in many cases it pays off. But then you have to ask yourself: Do I lose more the times it doesn't pay off than I make the times it does?

It may not have the ring of "Deal... or No Deal?" But it's a question that may save you a little money at the tables.

Sorry, I've been out of the country with limited Internet access or I would have replied before this.

The quote is not from my book, I spoke with the author, Tim O'Brien, for about an hour. Newspaper quotes are virtually always out of context, after all the article was about poker, not about me. That doesn't mean it's misleading, one of the skills of a good journalist is to take things out of context without being misleading. By the way, Tim O'Brien wrote a great book, Bad Bet, a few years ago.

I am not anti-tournament poker, nor do I think tournament winners are bad players. I do think that an essential part of poker is the goal of making money. Played without meaningful stakes, poker isn't poker. I think most people will stay with me that far.

A tournament is an in-between case. The stakes can be meaningful, but the goal is to be the last survivor, that is to bankrupt everyone else; rather than to make money hand-by-hand. True, you get paid to bankrupt everyone else, so you could say it's about the money, but in my opinion it's a fundamental change to the game to get paid for other people going broke as opposed to earning your money pot by pot. This is not a minor thing, I consider bet accounting to be a defining part of poker (and historically it's one of the key innovations that distinguishes poker).

Anything can be forced into a competitive sport. I used the singing/American Idol example with Tim, but you could substitute hunting versus target shooting or writing novels versus spelling bees or lots of other things. It takes similar skills to do the real activity and to win the simulated competition, but one is real and one is organized for entertainment of spectators. Some people are good at both, some at one, some at neither.

I don't disguise the fact that I think the real activity, at least with poker and music and other things I love, is better than the simulated one; but I don't argue the point. If you like tournaments better, enjoy them. Tournaments give a clear winner, we can know who is the best tournament poker player (at least for one game and limit structure on one day). I like that transparency, anyone can claim to be a great cash game player, tournament players have to prove it. But what I consider to be real poker requires additional skills: finding good games, collecting winnings, managing your play and your life.

A tournament winner can sneer that a successful cash game player is just good at finding rich bad players and keeping them happy, a successful cash game player can sneer at tournaments. I don't support either one. Both activities take similar skills, with some differences. There are enough people who do both well to make it clear that there's more overlap than divergence. Anyone who claims to be a good poker player should demonstrate that talent with top cash game players and with top tournament pros. Doing only one and sneering at the other is not attractive.

There's a separate question about whether tournaments reward good poker. At high enough blinds and antes in the late stages, it's more about the luck of the cards than poker ability. In the early going, it's more about maximizing winnings with weak other players than holding your own with good players, personally I think winners should be chosen by testing them against other good players. In between, it's about careful attention to tournament considerations, stack sizes and remaining players, as much as poker. I think it's possible to design a good poker tournament, but most tournaments are not well-designed in the sense of having a good chance of ranking the players according to poker ability.

Therefore I would not have chosen to be quoted exactly the way I was, it makes me seem anti-tournament. Also, the juxtoposition of the Steve Lipscomb quote makes it seems as if I am mad about my low World Poker Tour ranking. For the record, I have no beef with the World Poker Tour.

--Aaron Brown

[Afterhought: I appreciate the fact that Aaron's response wasn't something like, "Well, I'm the guy who published a book on poker. Who the f$#% is the Luckbox!?!?"]

FIRST

It isn't smart to have a poker "style". There are two reasons really. First, if I know a player's "style" it makes it far easier to predict his holding based on his actions and his future actions based on his likely holdings. In this regard, players with a "style" are like computers. They lack imagination.

Second, having a style makes it hard to adjust my own game to my surroundings. When I sit down at a new table I can, and sometimes do, run all over it. I'm an aggressive bastard and people who don't know what to expect can be intimidated. Unfortunately, there are games where that style is just plain dumb and two of the biggest games in G-Vegas certainly fit that mold.

From the day I started playing, my stlye matched my personality. I'm aggressive as hell. I find weakness in other players and try to exploit it. I try to represent great strength even when I have none. Drizz once said I play the "LAG Role" to perfection. I think I'm typecast.

In the underground game and the famed "G-Vegas BIG GAME" the players aren't aggressive, quite the opposite in fact, they'll call damn near anything. In fact, there are several players at each who DO NOT FOLD... EVER! It's a pretty damn ridiculous way to play poker... and pretty damn profitable for everyone else... but it certainly negates my "stlye."

NEXT

I've been playing when I'm tired... or hungry... or bored. I know better. I've written whole posts about it and won't do so again. Playing when not in the proper state of mind is foolish... for obvious reasons.

I think the solution is to remember WHY I play. I'm not in it for the money. I mean, we keep score with money so I want as much as possible. But I'm not a poker pro... and I don't use the income for my everyday life. Really, the poker bankroll is just that. I use my poker winnings to play poker. That way I don't have to use the family's actual money to play... and I can keep playing bigger games.

Still, the money is NOT a motivation.

Instead, I'm playing because I love the game. In this way the gambling aspect is somewhat irrelevant. It's part of the game, but no different that a squeeze bunt is part of baseball. I want to get better at poker and need to keep that as close as the motivation itself.

I think I lose sight of that at times.

FINALLY: AN UPDATE

A big thank you to all the readers who wished me well. My dad is back home and feeling OK. He had a pretty massive stroke but he's still alive and still... himself. That's good.

My wife will get more test results from yet another specialist next month. I'm quite sick of that crap... I hope this is the end of that.

I'm in negotiations right now for a new contract at work. If all goes well, there may finally be some stability. And I can go back to worrying about the turn and river.

But this isn't a post about the smart money. One shouldn't always believe that if people are buying in big that they are good. Chances are, they are smarter, but that is a matter of debate as well. Instead, this is a post about denizens of Shortbuy City.

I am a firm believer in the concept of buying in at the max in a no-limit game. If I can't afford the max-buy, I don't need to be in the game If there is no maximum buy-in, I buy in for a minimum of 100 times the big blind. A smarter bet in a game with no max-buy is 200 times the big blind. There is a pretty common tack for most no-limit players.

Any no-limit player loves to see someone sit down and buy-in for the minimum. It smacks of scared money. It is a fashing billboard that says, "I can't afford to lose a whole buy-in."

Now, to be fair, I know some very smart people who are occasional short-buyers. Whether they have a limited bankroll or have a very low stop-loss, they choose to short-buy. Also, to be fair, I think there is a strategy one can employ to maximize one's game on a short-stack. Frankly, I'm not as worried about them as I am a very interesting sub-set of short-buyers.

I call them The Lost Donks.

Somewhere along the way The Lost Donks learned to play a shortstack in a tournament. They learned about the "M" and they learned about how to accept a coinflip when your stack and M get too small. They learned that when you are in a tournament there is no way you can win unless you double up a few times.

But somewhere along the way, these guys got lost and ended up in a cash game. And they forget to turn off their tournament mind.

There's a guy I'd like you to meet. His name is W00t4donks. I'm not afraid to use his screen name here, because he is becoming more and more well known in an online $10/$20 NL game. W00t4donks buys into the game for $500. W00t4donks waits until he thinks he is either ahead or has a decent coinflip and then pushes in every one of his chips.

When I first ran into this guy, I was pretty sure he wouldn't be around for long. I figured he had run up a $1/$2 stack and decided to take a shot at a bigger game. But as it turns out, this guy seems to have a bankroll. Every time he loses his stack, he buys back in for $500. Over the course of 400 hands with him, I'm not surprised to learn I've won 16 hands against him and he has won 16 hands against me. After all, we're playing coin flips moost of the time. I'm also not surpised to learn that of the $2200 in the 32 pots, $1400 of it has come home to me. Why? Because if I have a reasonable belief I am ahead, I don't mind calling off $500. More often than not, he's pushing with the hope he is ahead and I am calling with the knowledge that I am ahead.

The W00tster gets a lot of grief at the tables. Some people rag him because they want to have a chance to make more than $500 per pot with him. Others rag him because he is willing to put his entire stack in the middle with pocket eights pre-flop, or on just about any 35% draw post-flop. Thankfully, the tapping on the glass doesn't seem to scare him away.

I don't write this to make Woot4donks feel bad. He obviously has a strategy and maybe it is over my head. However, over 400 hands I've played with him, he is down more than one of his buy-ins. Given, 400 hands is not a great sample size, but I think it's clear his strategy is taking him nowhere. He pays his rake, he plays coinflips, and he hopes to win. He's not winning and I don't think he will. What's more, if he does start winning, he's not going to win much. The money I win in that game, the big triple or quadruple up nights, obviously comes from nights that my big hands get paid off. When it comes time for Woot to get paid off, he's not going to profit more than $500, which still puts him at only 50% of the game's max-buy. And, I don't think I have to tell you, 50% of the max-buy is not much harder to call than 25% when you are sure you are ahead. W00t has no bluffing ability, no fold equity, and rarely is he getting his money in with any more than a coinflip.

I should be clear. It is no secret, I am no great no-limit theorist. I'm a much better limit player. However, over my time in the $10/$20 NL game, I am a winner, and not a small one. But regardless of how big or small the game is, I think it is dangerous to head into a game with 25% of the bullets and none of the protection (bluff ability, etc) your opponents hold.

Why bother writing about it? I dunno. It's not any new theory, or anything. I guess it just surprises me that with all the good poker information out there, some people are still treating poker like a gamble instead of an ATM. What's more, I'm starting to see more and more of these guys in the middle no-limit area. It's both fascinating and disturbing to watch. It's like watching Sammy Farha flip a coin for $25K. Watching gamblers can be fun. Playing poker against them can be more fun.

Still, it seems a shame. Like a lot of you, I'm playing cards to learn how to play smart. While winning money is nice, playing for coin flips just isn't very educational.

Guess, I should stop whining, huh? I could be wrong. Am I?

X. Thou shalt not be scared money. Don't buy an entry into a tournament in which the buy-in is a significant part of your bankroll. You can't be afraid to lose money in a tournament setting (or a cash game, for that matter). Once you pay for that buy-in, that money is gone! Focus on winning, not on getting your buy-in back.

IX. Thou shalt have time to play. Why even bother with a tourney if you've got somewhere to go or if it's past your bed time? Just because you want it to go faster doesn't mean everyone else does. You'll end up taking chances you wouldn't otherwise.

VIII. Thou shalt concentrate. I know, this one sounds obvious, but is it? Today I played a big tourney while mutli-tabling two others, watching a couple of friends in the big one, chatting with a few people on IM and monitoring the IRC chat room. At the same time, I was watching the Olympics. I'd like to say it didn't affect my play, but it wasn't ideal either. It's something I need to be careful of.

VII. Thou shalt be prepared to lose. Face it, cashing in big MTT's is tough. If you can't handle losing consistently, then tournament play is not for you. This is not a grind! This is a string of losses highlighted by occasional wins and rare big cashes. Every now and then, you might hit a rush that will make you think it's easy. And every now and then, I guarantee, you'll hit a run that makes you think you'll never win again.

VI. Thou shalt try to win the pot with (almost) every bet. Unless you are holding an absolute monster, every bet you make should be designed to win the pot in front of you. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but, in general, if you make a bet you hope gets called, you merely invite someone to take the pot from you. If you're holding the nuts, or close to it, feel free to get tricky, but beware, if the board starts to get dangerous, bet to win.

V. Thou shalt continuation bet. Again, this should be another obvious rule, but it is absolutely essential to playing well in tourneys. When you raise before the flop, you give the impression of strength. There is NO reason to give the other players any other impression until it becomes too expensive for you. Take a stab at the pot, if you get re-raised, let it go, but take the stab nonetheless. Those stack building bets will help keep your head above water until the big hands come.

IV. Play big hands for all they are worth! Sometimes you're going to go bust with a big hand. Here's two examples from today: At Pacific, I flopped the nut straight but lost to a full house on the river. It's a hand I want to get a lot of money into the pot. At PokerStars, I held Pocket Rockets and lost to a flopped set of 5s (K65 rainbow flop). In both cases, I was more than happy to get my money in. In both cases, I lost. It happens.

III. Thou shalt not get blinded out. When you get shortstacked (and it will happen), you can NOT be afraid to die. That is actually a time when you can get more aggressive. Start pushing with enough chips that it's worth it for people to fold. If you get too short, the big stacks will call you with anything. Winning blinds and antes is important when you're short stacked.

II. Thou shalt be aware of the bubble. There are three situations you'll be in when the bubble approaches. First, you'll be a short stack on the brink of elimination. If you can, try to fold your way to the cash. If you can't, pick your best hand in your best shot and push. Second, you'll be around average, just ahead of the bubble. If that's the case, be selectively aggressive. It's no time to get crazy, because one bad pot, and you'll see your bubble bursting. But there will be plenty of scared stacks to go after. Third, you'll be a big stack. This is a great place to be near the bubble because most players will be afraid to fight with you.

I. Thou shalt play to win. There's nothing like winning a big tourney. Go into every tourney with a plan to win. My plan is to chip up early, winning small pots but avoiding big confrontations unless I'm very confident in my hand. I want to stay at or above average as long as I can. Hopefully, I'll hit a rush to make me a big stack. If not, staying around average will guarantee me a cash. After I make the money, it's all about climbing the ladder. Let players bust and pick my spots. When I get near the final table, I turn up the aggression. When I make the final table, I dial it back down. That's my plan. Yours may be different, but always have a plan to win.

This scene actually played itself out in my living room a couple of weeks ago as I began what I have affectionately come to call the "November Slide." It wasn't until last night that I remembered that every November for the past three years, my game has gone in the crapper. As they say, bad players always remember their wins but forget their losses. I'd chosen to forget, for whatever reason, that November is always a bad month for my game.

As I sat to write out the reasons behind the "November Slide" (by the way, not at all related to the Electric Slide, other than they are two completely irrational and ugly things you'll hear idiots talk about), I decided to read about G-Rob's Card Dead Tilt (CDT). It's little secret that I enjoy reading about G-Rob's failures. I figure if he can make jokes about my hairline, I can take a minute amount of pleasure in his losing a few hundred bucks when he's playing badly.

As usual, G-Rob provided us with a good, introspective reflection on a bad night. Though I like to poke fun, G-Rob is not alone. Of course, we all like to say we are un-tiltable. I've said it more times than I can count. I also used to say, "I like to wait." It took me five years to admit I was lying to myself. I don't like to wait. And, though I am not easily tilted, I am tiltable.

As the "November Slide" continues unabated and my bankroll begins to consult with domestic violence counselors, I thought it might be a good time to expand on G-Rob's seedling of an idea. With that I offer...

The Nearly Comprehensive (but likely quite incomplete) Glossary of Tilt

Tilt--

(1) n. A altered state of mind that adversely affects a poker player's game
(2) v. The act of altering an opponent's mind so that his game is adversely affected
(3) n. A reprehensible and disgusting ESPN drama that was likely written in consult with Russ Georgiev

Bad Beat Tilt--Perhaps the most common form of tilt, Bad Beat Tilt often appears in concert with one's opponent sucking a two-outer. Bad Beat Tilt is often exacerbated by said opponent using the phrase, "I felt it."

Card Dead Tilt--See G-Rob's lengthy definition here.

Stuck Tilt--This tilt appears after having played a lengthy session only to find one's stack is smaller--usually significantly smaller--than it began. Stuck Tilt manifests itself in a common symptom of unfortunate poker play: "Getting Even." (See "Taking a Shot Tilt")

Taking a Shot Tilt--When Stuck Tilt lasts for more than a few sessions (as seen in such recent tales as "November Slide", which is not at all like the song "November Rain" unless you count the screaming that occurs in both), Taking A Shot Tilt walks hand in hand with Stuck Tilt. When under the influence of this kind of tilt, a player decides to play above his normal limit in an effort to win back his losses at a faster rate. Of course, this often results in more losses (see the unwritten and never to be published "Experiment with $50/$100")

Big Blind Defense Tilt--As the masters have taught, big blind defense is an art. When Big Blind Defense Tilt affects a player, one begins to believe an opponent is indiscriminately attacking his or her big blind with trash. A choice is made to defend the big blind, which (being out of posisiton with 73 offsuit), even with a suitable amount of aggression results in ultimate failure and the loss of three more big bets than one would've lost otherwise.

Happy Tilt--Another common form of tilt, Happy Tilt appears in the middle of a profitable or otherwise fun session. Whether a player is winning or simply having fun with his buddies at the table, Happy Tilt can prove to be an unhealthy leak that causes players to "gamboooooool" indiscriminately. Happy Tilt is often made worse by mass consumption of alcohol (See also Whiplash Tilt)

Whiplash Tilt--A form of Hapy Tilt brought on by Whiplash the Dog-Riding Money. This form of tilt first raised its happy head during the 2004 WPBT Holiday Classic.

Fake Tilt--A stategic play aimed at making one's opponent believe one is on tilt, when, in fact, he/she is in complete control on one's faculties. Some scholars warn that Fake Tilt can mysteriously morph into full-blown Real Tilt without warning or explanation.

Red Ass Tilt--A form of tilt that has no explanation. The Missouri Crew co-opted the phrase from the 1985 movie "Moving Violations." It's one of these not-quite-tangible moods. If you accuse a person of having it, they have it by default. They can't deny it. Denying it only makes it a worse case of the Red Ass.

Cackling Wife Tilt--A form of tilt brought on by one's wife laughing heartlessly at your failures and bad luck. For futher information on this topic, see this scholar.

Tommy Tilt--G-Vegas-specific form of tilt, identified by a solid/rockish player finally deciding make a play at a pot and having G-Rob (not in the pot) call his hand and announce it to said rockish player's opponent, inducing a call and a subsequent loss by said rockish/solid player. Tilt is exacerbated by G-Rob's assertion that he really thought he was helping said rockish/solid player.

Alright, I've run out of steam for the moment. Do me a favor an help us out here. If you have a favorite form of tilt, serious or not, leave it in the comments. If we like it, we'll include it--wth credit, of course--in the main body of the post.

HIGH

I wrote about the bigger games, I played them, and baby, I liked it. I've finally moved up in limits online. It's like starting over with a clean slate. In some sense, I start the bigger games with a break-even record. It won't be hard to dig out of the hole.

Not long ago, Iggy wrote about that attitude on a hand-for-hand basis. No matter what happened on the last hand or the one before, play each new deal like the first hand of the day. You have new information, he says, but the success of the previous hand is irrelevant. We should already know that, of course, but I actually found myself repeating his exact words after a tough beat the other night. It's like meditation for the tilting mind.

Still, like many of you, I was a loser at first. Even in the smallest limits I'd lose seveal buyins. I'm not ashamed to say I made several deposits from my bank account to several online sites. I'd win for a while, then give it all back. Some people became bonus whores by moving their bankroll around, I was a bonus whore because I was totally out of money. It took a year to recover.

Somehow this is different. I feel like a blank slate with a brand new bankroll, buck naked at square one. That's how I approach it anyway. When I wrote about playing the bigger home game, I was writing as a first time player and it's visible in my game. I've changed my style. I've learned some moves. I've started a new game.

TIGHT

The change in stlye is both simple and signifigant. For some time, my entire live strategy was based on the other players, but not quite enough to be consistent. My best move was a slight ability to read the strength of my opponents hand and take advantage. I'll play almost anything if I'm fairly sure you're weak. I'll only play a monster if I know you like your cards. That paid off fairly well. It allowed me to show down wins with very weak cards which, just like a good hammer play, would lead to bigger payoffs later. But there was a major hole in the game.

Not long after I got a good grip on that style, the faux loose-aggressive, I ran into people who would blow it to shreds. How? By remaining IN the hand, calling bets with hands that we both knew were lousy. I'd detect weakness, but have someone call me down with second pair. One of our locals, SHEP, would kill me that way. I'd build a stack, then give it to him.

The key, of course, is a second read. It's not only important to understand the strength of our opponent, but also their willingness to lay it down. Some players play more hands. I had a big problem adjusting to the STYLE of my opponent. GOD that seems obvious. Good players are laughing at my obvious revelation, but it took me a long time to work it out.

So once we understand BOTH the style AND the strength of the opponent it's time to adjust our own game.

To be short, at last, blind devotion to ANYTHING is foolish, including our own particular "style". Good players will figure it out and take advantage. The best style, is no rigid style at all.

So, when I first played $200NL here, I changed my game. I saw almost every player limp to almost every pot. Better still, the average late position, post-limp raise would get at least a few callers... no matter what. So what stlye does that entail?

Suddenly, I'm tight... and paid off. No sense judging the strength of their hands, at least before the flop. You can't steal blinds. You need a different game. I still bluff at that game, by the way, but I can't worry about a bluff until later in the hand. I think DOUBLE As calls it the "pressure points". He, rightly, notes the timing of pressure varies depending on the player. Looser players feel pressure LATER in the hand.

Joaquin Ochoa says to, "Hunker down, brother. That's all I can say".

He's exactly right. There's more thinking involved.

TOURNEY

I've been playing those MTTs at bigger buyins, too. Otis (you have no idea how much it pains me to credit him but he's finally found something about which he knows far more than me) has always told me about the rationale for the more expensive tourneys. It goes something like this:

If we're fairly confident we can make the money, just make the money, in a large MTT... then a small buy in is a waste of time. At least 60th place in a $30 Party tournament pays money worth having. How many times have you bought into a big $5 MTT, played for 2 or 3 hours, and "won" a net gain of about $2. Whoooopeee. Even my TV job pays better than that.

Granted, the payout RELATIVE to buyin is roughly the same. But, again, if we're relatively sure we'll usually finish IN THE MONEY, then why not make money you can actually use. I spend more than $2 on Diet Pepsi almsot every day.

Tighter, more timely, aggressive play has helped me feel fairly sure I can MAKE THE MONEY in most, or at least a high percentage, of those HUGE MTTs.

ONE MORE THING

Speaking of Shep... I played with him again last Thursday. As we both stepped onto BadBlood's porch for a break, I told him his game is MUCH stronger these days. I'd say he's improved as much as, or more than, almost anyone I know. He's come a long way.

He told me he owes it all to poker blogs. This site, fox example, which does make typing it a slightly -EV position. Still, in this one post, I've had to reference a half dozen of my blogger friends. Just like Shep, I owe a great deal to the wisdom of others.

Thank you.

And if you ever want to join me in a game...remember

I'm GRobman at PokerStars.

Opposites Attract

I've been working on this new poker idea. I wonder if there is a stage of our development in which the best strategy is to do precisely what you shouldn't. There are a lot of ALWAYS rules, not including the Sklansky stuff which does reduce our decisions to an either/or decision tree, that we ALWAYS abide. But how much can we expect to win if we play by the rules? Nobody gets to be a CEO through honesty and hard work.

Clearly, the rules have value. But really, didn't we make that jump from beginner to intermediate with breakneck speed? CJ just posted about the rate at which his homegame foes were gaining on him. I've noticed the same thing here. The truth is any idiot can consume enough of the basics to become an average player without much time at the table. The intermediate player can still win, by dutiful adherance to the "Theory of Poker", but there's a plateau, and we've all been there.

The road less traveled

The hotel was horror. Everyone there was already weary, some had driven far longer than us. But once our full compliment assembled the desperation of our plight became clear. Word was the intestate was plugged ahead, no traffic moving at all. By some accounts people had been stranded there for a full day. Apparently, this cow pasture with a single off ramp, wasn't prepared for 115,000 hippies.

The consensus among our crowd was that was should forego the good night's rest, and get on the road that night. It was the most obvious option. Everyone else had already done the same. You could actually see the lights of the mini buses crammed full with clean shaven pseudo hippies wedged between brand new SUVs, all parking in the fast lane. Our four car caravan loaded up, then stopped.

We had a much better idea.

IT TAKES TIME

Two days ago, I intentionally folded A-A preflop. It's something you NEVER do. But I did it and it was exactly the right move. I was in a very large multi-table tournament and had made the final table. Unfotunately, I was not only short stacked, I was crippled. I got the aces in the big blind and was shocked when 3 other players ended up all in, and a fourth player called. Now, by this point, the blinds were so high that even pushing in and quintupling up wouldn't give me enough chips for another 2 orbits. So I mucked.

I ALWAYS play to win. But in this case the prospect of making another $200 by folding was too much to pass up. Sure enough, we had A-K, 8-8, J-J, and A-Q. My ace had no outs for improvement, and the kid with the Jacks caught a set. Two players bowed out, and a third was crippled. I finished 7th. I would've been 10th had I called.

Not long ago, that's an insta-call. But the chances of one of these 4 players catching SOMETHING, as they're already all-in, were too high for me to risk the money here. I did something I never do, and won money. I've been able to do that more and more.

THE CONCERT

When we pulled out of the parking lot the entire caravan went at full throttle, in the wrong direction. We drove 40 miles East when the festival was West. Then took a 40 mile drive South. Then Back to the west on a two lane road that went right through a small town. It spit us out 40 feet from the festival entrance.

On the second day of the festival we met up with a few more friends. They were just arriving. They'd been sitting on the interstate for 16 hours. We won by doing exactly what everyone else WASN'T.

Take the road less traveled my friends.

THE TABLE

I'm sure you already knew this strategy at the table. If the table is tight, it's time to loosen up. If the table is loose-aggressive, you've got to play good cards. It's amazing how much that small adjustment pays. Again, you knew that already.

What I'd suggest is sometimes you should ignore pot odds, check raise a draw, or yes, LIMP into a pot. Sometimes a min raise is OK. The most important thing you can do, is exactly what the other guy won't.

Now that's not to say you should go back to playing crap hands and calling with garbage. But there are SOME situations where you SHOULD do exactly that. But what do I know?

I suck at poker.

It's really fascinating to see the evolution of their play. It just really sucks that their evolution is costing me money. They're getting better faster than I am. My evolution is reaching a plateau. Their's is climbing exponentially.

It's like learning when you're a child. When you first begin to acquire knowledge it comes very quickly. You are learning everything you'll ever need to know. They can't teach you fast enough. Then you get older... and high school rolls around and you're just hoping to absorb enough to get by. Then college comes... and you're happy to learn they're not really teaching you anything except how to live away from home, and that's not a hard lesson.

While I'm on the metaphor kick, let's say it's kinda like being a sponge. Those guys were dry when we started. I had been sitting out in the rain. They can't get enough water. I've only got so much more room.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'm some kind of a pro. I'm far from it. But I also know I'm the best player at the table ever time I sit down with these guys. And yet I've lost the last 6 games. I suppose I could blame the structure (it's a shootout at best), or my luck (I generally get my money in the pot with the best hand), or even variance (ain't she a bitch), but that's not the point.

I've got to play better. There's lots for me to learn. If I spent the time doing it. And soon, I'm going to start doing it. After all, I have a trip to the Caribbean to win in a few weeks!

FIRST

There are some wonderfully deep psychological questions here, but Otis will insist I put them on another blog. Until we unveil Up For Headshrinking, I'll have to let them rest. But it its safe to say that just as discipline in any endeavor would bleed into other parts of our life, working on our aggression in poker might impact us in other ways.

I think Daniel-san was probably good at waxing and painting as a result of his karate training.

A similar article in "Cardplayer" magazine wondered, "is an introvert or extrovert better suited for poker." The answer is really the same.

LANGUAGE

First we should clarify our terms. "Aggression" as it applies to poker isn't really arression per se. Instead aggression at the table is a willingness to make the right plays in favorable situations. Think of it like a high school bully. The sitcom episodes where the kid finally stands up to the bully and the bully backs off are probably based in fact. Blossom has a point.

A tough kid in high school gains that reputaion by picking on the weak, the people who are likely to either put up a weak defense or none at all.

In poker we look for players who are either so tight that they'll only play back at us with monster hands, which we can then abandon, or so weak that we can exploit our good hands for maximum payoff. Aggression against someone who is tight but not weak is a different skill.

Eventually our bully gets such a "tough guy" reputation that he rarely fights anyone at all. He is only confronted by people who are CERTAIN of victory, and even a dumb bully can see that coming.

EGO

I think a better way to consider "aggression" is as "confidence." It's been said a million times, sucess in poker is the ability to exploit the tiny advantages to our maximum advantage. A person with high confidence in his reads, when he thinks he has that advantage, will press it. That's AGRESSION.

If I think you're on a draw, I'll make you PAY BIG to catch it.

If I think your hand is weak, and you don't like it, I'll bet big with garbage to make you fold. (NOTE: This strategy does not work well against BadBlood.)

But aggression without knowing your position, your opponent's status, and the relative strenght of your own hand is just foolish.

Even better, once we've been able to show aggression against weaker opponents, it makes them more likely to use unbridled aggression against us.

It's fair to say, the only reason a hack player like me makes ANY money is through people playing back at my early aggression.

LIFE

So does THAT make us more aggressive in life. I can't imagine it doesn't.

For example, some of what I've learned about poker tells has helped my during interviews at work.

The idea that we are able to locate our advantage and have the CONFIDENCE to exploit it is often the formula for greater success in anything we do. It makes sense that a good Tight-aggressive poker player would be more CONFIDENT in business as well.

And, that said, I still suck at poker.

Hope that helps OTIT.