The Cards You Are Dealt

Today’s column is a short dissertation on a banality. It’ll seem stupid at first but bear with me, there’re useful poker nuggets here. The banality: You can’t do anything about the cards you are dealt. Now I know that everyone who has played even a little poker knows this is true – but few act like it. Many complain endlessly about their bad luck, cry about their rotten cards, agonize over the endless hours missing countless flops, of getting sucked out on by bozos calling on a wing and a prayer.

Click to read more ...

Intuition

I’ve spent over forty years living two parallel lives. In one I am degenerate gambler, a horse player and a poker junkie; in the other, a respected scientist. I’ve kept them separate mainly because my colleagues in each have little appreciation for the wonder, the complexities and the just full-bore fun in the other.

Click to read more ...

The Final Hour

OK, so the title sounds somewhat apocalyptic. That’s okay; I thought it might help get your attention. Of course, the final hour of a poker session is less cosmic and certainly less dramatic than it would be in a sci-fi novel or an end-of-the-world movie. But most players have no idea how dangerous that final hour can be. Over the years I have watched more players make more mistakes, cost themselves more money, and self-inflict more grief during these final 60 or so minutes than you can imagine. There are psychological reasons for this and if we understand them perhaps we can prevent future occurrences. I hope you noticed that “we” in the preceding —- that’s because I include myself in that category of those who’ve screwed up during the last couple of orbits before cashing out.

Click to read more ...

Murder, Mayhem and Misinterpretation

Two events occurred that drew the attentions of sports bettors, poker aficionados, small-time hoods, organized crime, the casino industry and, of course, the legal establishment. In one, a sports-betting ring operating “in” the poker room at Atlantic City’s Borgata casino was broken up. The word “in” is in quotes to make it clear that, while the action took place in the casino, its personnel and management have not (so far as is publicly known) been implicated. The second occurred in one of the larger underground poker rooms in New York City where armed robbers held up the club. In the chaotic scene that ensured a gun went off (apparently accidentally, as if that mattered) and killed one of the players, a middle-aged school teacher from New Jersey who was a regular in the room.

Click to read more ...

I’m Just Playing My Rush

We’ve all seen this one: Some guy wins a couple of hands in a row. He starts telling jokes, high-fiving friends, and gleefully stacking chips while announcing to all just how good he really is. To some extent, we all do this. It is almost irresistible. We’ve all been on a “rush;” it’s a real high. We feel invulnerable. We believe that it was our skill that led to this tsunami of chips now in front of us. A little later reality may force a return to a more sober assessment of our game, but for now we feel pretty damn good about ourselves. Winning a whole lot of chips is great fun and if we can’t enjoy these moments, what’s the point?

Click to read more ...