The Spectrum

One of my favorite shows to watch on TV as a kid was ABC's "Wide World of Sports." We didn't have cable for most of my childhood so I had to take advantage whenever sports were on the tube. I enjoyed that the show covered all kinds of contests, from boxing and cycling to tennis and basketball. The tagline during the opening was Jim McKay saying, "The thrill the victory...and the agony of defeat." The second part was accompanied by a skier experiencing a violent (and I thought maybe deadly) crash during a descent down a hill gone horribly wrong. That image resonated with me throughout my youth, not just for the shock value but also the message it delivered. No matter how bad a loss felt.. that poor skier had it way worse. That truly was the agony of defeat.

Part of growing up, maturing and competing is learning how to lose. Gaining the understanding that this is part of the deal. If you play sports, you are going to lose some of the time. Occasionally even most of the time. You don't have to be cool with it but you have to at least be accepting of it. You will be getting your share of victories, sometimes even thrilling ones. But there will inevitably be some painful defeats. With the occasional agony as well. 

I had to learn this lesson all over again when I started playing poker. Losing is never going to be easy. And it does happen a lot. But how you deal with losing is a key factor in determining how you do over the long-term. Being able to brush off a rough hand or session is paramount if you are going to positively move forward. Letting it linger, going on tilt and playing poorly as a result, this is the biggest killer of poker dreams. Emotional stability is a crucial trait that almost all winning players possess. You will see some crazies go on hot streaks and win a ton over a short period of time. But they die out and fade away. They weren't equipped to right the ship when the tide turned. 

There are two key differences, however, when comparing poker and sports. The first one is getting past the tendency of being "results oriented", especially in the short-term. You win a tennis match 6-0 6-0 or a football game 45-3 and it's pretty clear that you, or your team, played very well. Poker is tougher to evaluate based strictly on results. You can get all your money in the pot with the current best possible hand and still lose. You can also make poor decisions and still win. On any given day, the luck factor can be quite high. Therefore, merely saying "I won" or "I lost" can provide an inaccurate picture of how you played on a certain day. Certainly winning feels better. But what enabled you to win? Could ANYONE have won with your cards? Or did you maximize what you had? Being able to discern this is very important

The other key difference is that in poker, death is always looming. Unless you have the most chips at your table, every single hand can be your last. You can't win the tournament until the very end. But you can lose it on any given hand. In most sports, you have a great number of smaller wins and losses that give you a greater or lesser chance to win the game at the end. If you throw an INT that gets returned for a TD in the first quarter or give up a two run HR in the first inning, you're down but certainly have plenty of time to come back. The poker equivalent does not afford you this luxury. One big mistake can be the end. Skirting around, and even hopping over, the pit of death can be a nerve wracking battle at the table.

But back to the thrill of victory. And the agony of defeat. Poker and sports mirror each other in one key way. Sometimes the line between those two very extreme emotions can be oh so razor thin. One strike away in baseball, one yard away in football, one second away in basketball. Teetering on the seesaw of vastly different emotions before sliding headlong into one extreme. In poker, oftentimes you are one card away, just one little card, from both ends of the spectrum. And that last card can change everything. The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat, both hanging in the balance. Exultation with one, devastation with the other. 

And with it, that one constant, never-ending, difficult question. The one that separates, ultimately, the winners from the losers.

Can you handle the swings?

Pins and needles

The vast majority of time spent at the poker table involves waiting. Waiting for the cards to be dealt, waiting for the chips to be pushed to someone, waiting for others to act on their hands. Of course the fun part involves the small percentage of time when you are in a hand, contemplating and acting on decisions. But mostly, it's about staying patient and waiting until it's your turn to strike.

The other part of waiting, the fun and scary part, involves waiting on someone else to act once you have placed a bet. Depending on where you are at in the hand, you might be rooting for this person to fold, call or raise you. Early on in the hand, it can be unclear what exactly you want to have happen. But once all the cards are out, after the river, you typically have a pretty good idea. There are instances when you might bet an average hand and be unsure if a person who is debating a call has a better hand than you or not. But most river bets have a clear intent on what they are designed to induce. You will either have a strong hand or a weak hand, thus strongly rooting on the inside for a call or a fold, depending on your holding. And this brings about a special kind of waiting. 

When you have a very strong hand, even the nuts, your internal voice is screaming in rapid succession, "CALL! CALL! CALL! CALL!" while outwardly you are doing everything in your power to project weakness. Slumped shoulders, a scared expression, shifty eyes, whatever might push your opponent over the edge and get those chips to make their way into the pot. Sometimes it works and they call. Other times, it doesn't and they fold. But regardless, you are winning the pot. It's just a matter of how much.

The other end of this.. the scary, but sometimes exhilarating part... is when you have made a bet on the river with nothing. You are bluffing.

"FOLD! FOLD! FOLD! FOLD!"

There is no possible way of winning the pot without getting your opponent to fold. You are trying to represent a hand you simply do not have. If he calls, you're screwed. But if he folds... you have pulled it off.

"CRAP, HE'S GONNA CALL. I'M SO STUPID"

 The size and stakes of the bet will often determine how fast your heart is beating, how dry your throat is, how quickly your mind is racing.

 "WAIT... HE'S GONNA FOLD. I MIGHT BE A GENIUS. C'MON MAN. LET IT GO. LET IT GO!!"

And the more seconds that go by, the harder it is keep the voices in your head silent. They get louder, more insistent and closer to the surface the more time that elapses. Until it's all just a great, big buzz

"ZZAASOFKSDORIJSDFIGSDFGF;GHSFGF;KSG"

If it's early in a tournament, the outcome isn't that big of  deal. However, if it's late, and all your chips are in the pot on a bluff, you know you are going home if you get called. That's the cadillac of bluffing. No safety net. Nothing to save you if this goes wrong. Dangling off the cliff precariously with one simple decision to determine your fate. Call. Goodbye.


But then there are times when it happens. You get the fold. Oh, that fold! What do you do? Exhale? Smile? Show your bluff? It's up to you. But the feeling you get is unparalleled. The ultimate trickery. You made someone think something, and the reality was quite the opposite, You had the stones to put all your chips in there with the very real risk of getting none of them back. But you did, You got them all back and then some. New life, new blood, new chance. 

Now let's go get some more

Growing old

When you are growing up, your life is all about potential. What kind of person will you be? What kinds of things will you be good at? What will it be like when you are "in your prime"?

The prime of one's life varies drastically depending on your viewpoint. You might think it's 18, or 30, or even 50. Some people think whatever age they currently are represents their prime. These are probably the most well adjusted people out there. They recognize the pros and cons with each passing year and embrace everything positive while accepting or dismissing anything negative at the same time. For me, older and wiser is fun. But younger and fresher is fun to look back on as well.

There is one regret that everyone can agree on, however. The toll that Father Time takes on your body. When growing up, each passing year offers more power, speed, flexibility than the one before it. You can run faster, hit a ball farther, shoot from farther out, etc. when you are 8 than when you are 6, 12 than when you are 10. 16 than when you are 14. The whole idea of "I'm going to be even better next year" is fun to have in your back pocket, particularly when you are dealing with a particularly awkward year of growing physically. I had that at 13 and suffered through my roughest athletic year of childhood. Had I peaked at 12? Nope, just had to adjust to the changes of growing up. At 14, I was back on track.

At some point, however, things start sliding down the other side of the mountain. You've spent your whole life climbing towards this physical peak, the absolute best of your abilities, and eventually your body maxes out. Alright fella, we've gone as high as we can go. I've really enjoyed having you on this ride. But it's time we head back. Remember all of the good times when you start to experience these rougher ones. It might not be easy. But please promise to try.

At 37, I am many years past that conversation with my body. I've been on the downward swing for some time now. But it does get more noticeable with each passing year. Jumping ability, lateral quickness, general power.. it's all diminishing year after year. Granted, I rarely put myself through tasks that require much of this. But when I do, playing softball for instance, it's glaring how little my body is capable of compared to 20 years ago. It's life and it happens. But it's still difficult to deal with. Sports will always be "a young man's game."

Poker is a different story. Even as your body is wearing down in your 20s and 30s, many times your mind is still cruising steadily up that same mountain. While it's true that many of the world champions of recent years have been in their 20s. the playing field is far more even in the poker world than in the athletic one. Processing information and making the correct decision in a poker hand is just as easy for me now as it was 10 years ago. Diving to my right to field a ground ball, getting up and firing the ball to first base is certainly not. I can certainly still try it. But I'll likely be bruised and battered afterwards. Father Time will see to that.

But when it comes to poker, the bruised and battered era hasn't arrived for me yet. Oh yes, Father Time is watching and observing, studying from afar. But he understands there is more left in the tank. Plenty more. Maybe even a surplus in there due to inactivity in recent years. But I can't wait too much longer. My mind still feels young now. But like the body before it, it can't stay that way forever. 

I'm still heading up that mountain. And I have some things to do before I start heading down the other side...

A storm rolls in

To most people, Black Friday refers to the day after Thanksgiving. Stores open early and consumers flock in droves in hopes of scoring the best bargains for their early Christmas shopping. It has taken on a more manic behavior with each passing year, with no end in sight. I have yet to participate in these "festivities."

To poker players, Black Friday means something else entirely. It refers to April 15th, 2011... the day the sky fell in. It was an average Friday afternoon at work for me when I got an IM link from a friend with the words, "Uh oh" I clicked on the link and my jaw dropped. A nightmare scenario was playing out on the screen in front of me. I learned that the US Department of Justice had seized the domain names for the three most popular US poker sites, including Full Tilt, the one I played on. Basically the seizure alleged that the sites acted illegally by engaging in bank fraud and money laundering to transfer money to and from their customers. This despite the fact that the sites were licensed and regulated in the countries they operated in. It was a bullying tactic.. and it was successful.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_v._Scheinberg

Just one week prior, I had requested a $1500 withdrawal from my account for my impending honeymoon. My wife I were to be married on April 23rd and were headed to Hawaii two days later. I had received an email from Full Tilt's administration department that my payment was held up, and now I understood why. It turned out that they never segregated their funds so did not have the capital on hand to process withdrawal transactions. It was an incredibly awful transgression, a serious lack of good faith and judgement, and it now affected $600 million of player funds. And while the rest of the world was paid back in a timely manner, US customers were treated differently. Hoops, hurdles, deadlines and promises... finally after a 3rd party administrator took over the proceedings and consulted with the DOJ at an agonizingly slow place, people started to get their money back. I did as well.. all $2700 in my account. Four years later.

But online poker was never the same. My bread and butter for bankroll building was no more. The government had now determined what you could and couldn't do in the privacy of your own home. "Land of the Free" was all a facade. Thousands of professional players moved to Canada, Mexico and other countries in order to play the game they love unencumbered. Millions more, like me, didn't have that road to travel down. So we were left wondering why a county that advertises a chance at the American Dream is the one place that prevents it.

Hopefully things will be better down the road. Legislation and regulation on a state level is moving along, albeit slowly. The optimists believe that in a few years, all the big sites will be back in most of the 50 states. The pessimists think banging your head into a wall is going to be a common practice for releasing frustrations as this moves sideways instead of forward. The reality right now is that while a few sites are open for business to US customers, there isn't nearly enough traffic to be exceedingly profitable. Until regulations occurs in most of the states, frustratingly, the landscape will remain the same. Five years ago, we were well fed with sumptuous meals planned out for days and days.

Now we are all left fighting for scraps.

The things I learned in school

You hear it all the time, from all kinds of people. Why do I need to learn this stuff in school? I'M NEVER GOING TO USE IT LATER IN LIFE. Well, as a poker player, you get a chance to use:

Math:  The obvious one. You'll get dealt AA one of every 221 hands. If you flop a flush draw, it will hit roughly 36% of the time. Knowing how much is in the pot, what hand you are drawing to and if the investment is worth the payoff, is crucial to your success. Sometimes it's about gut, sometimes it's about instinct, and sometimes it's about plain old math. It helps to know it.

History:  This is where a good memory comes in handy. Remembering what certain players did in certain spots against you is so valuable in making decisions. If you know someone is at least capable of making a huge bluff or extremely unlikely to check a huge hand on the flop, it provides great insight into how to best proceed with the hand. If you are disregarding history and playing the same way against everyone, you are ignoring countless potential clues at your disposal. 

English:  Table talk, and how to interpret it, is a vital part of playing optimally as well. Back in 2009, I was playing some one table satellites in Vegas in an effort to win a seat to the main event. There were six of us left, including Victor Ramdin,  a fairly well known tournament pro at the time. A hand came up where Ramdin limped in, along with a few others, and I checked my option with K8. The flop came down K45 and I bet out. Everyone folded to him and he moved all-in immediately. As I pondered, he commented,

"Uh oh, someone has kicker problems." 

He was right. I did. I thought a little bit longer and ended up folding. At which point he showed 67 for nothing but a straight draw. After I relayed the hand to my brother later, I basically said, "Victor Ramdin mind fucked me." He coerced me into a decision he wanted me to make by falsely alluding to the perceived strength of his hand. It was genius, and at the time, I was ill-prepared to interpret what it meant. Well played, sir

Psychology:  So much going on here. Poker is a game of incomplete information and so much of the decision making process involves peeling the layers of who you are up against. The levels of thinking in the game go like this"

1. What do I have?
2. What do I think he has?
3. What do I think he thinks that I have?
4. Etc

Without knowing what level your opponent is on, it becomes more difficult to properly assess what the best move should be. If you are playing against someone who is strictly focused on their hand, running a big bluff in hoping they will fold based on the dangerous makeup of the community cards is asking for trouble. All they think is, I have these cards and that's a pretty decent hand. The flush and straight draws that hit will not register with someone like this. They are operating purely on level 1. When you get into Level 3 and beyond, that's when poker gets really fun. Trying to deconstruct the hand, putting the puzzle together with only a limited number of pieces, brings for some pretty awesome mental gymnastics. I've fallen off the balance beam on many an occasion. But I have stuck a few landings in my day too.

Art and science:  I group these together because they apply to two forms of poker. No limit vs limit games. Limit games are a science. You only have a fixed amount you can bet on every street, so the game is less about creativity and artistry than it is about methodical calculation. Knowing what hands to play, knowing what price you are getting to call a bet, knowing how much is in the pot and what cards are likely to come... there is a very scientific approach to the game

The no limit games can be an art form. You can make any hand into anything you want it to be. You can represent AA even if you have 72 and realistically bet enough to get someone to fold. Because so many NL hands are won without a showdown, there is no way for your opponent to know what you really have. Representing hands and running bluffs are a key part of this game and not nearly as prevalent on the limit side of things

Paying attention:  I'll end with a general practice that applies to playing poker. Letting your mind wander is as much a part of life today as it was in our youth. Falling asleep or gazing out the window made it easier to miss out on various nuggets of information in whatever class you were in. The same applies to poker. Watching TV, looking at your phone, etc. prevents you from gleaning certain things from your opponents that you end up missing out on. How they shuffle their chips, how long they look at their cards, how they throw their bet out.. it all matters. Paying attention, whenever possible, is paramount.

So many other little things from various subjects come up as well. I would say just about every subject from all ages of school can be utilized on some level at the poker table. It's all up there locked away somewhere. Finding the combination is the tricky part.

Punches and counterpunches

A poker tournament is a lot like a boxing match. There is a considerable feeling out period at the beginning before the action picks up and mostly continues through to the end. The aggressor is typically the victor. How you handle getting hit, even knocked down, will ultimately determine your fate. And of course, landing the most punches, winning the most pots, will greatly benefit you in the end.

The $1k WSOP NL hold 'em tourney I played in June of 2009 played out in this manner. Even in one of the smaller buy-in tourneys, the action started slow, no one wanted to take any big risks. Everyone was kind of testing each other, probing here and there, tentatively putting out feelers to see what they could find out. The ebb and flow was jagged during these informational proceedings. I won a few pots and lost a few pots and was even on the scorecards as we entered the action stage of the fight.

Unfortunately,  that stage involved me getting hit repeatedly. Jabs, crosses, body blows, they came from all angles. Every time I raised, someone re-raised and pretty soon my starting hands were resembling the flash cards we used in elementary school math class. 7 and 3, 8 and 4, 9 and 5. I simply didn't have the means to inflict any damage on my opponents. I was backed into a corner and in big trouble. 

Then, like Rocky landing that first big shot against Drago, I drew some blood and fought back. I doubled up with KQ right before the dinner break to get some momentum. Fueled by landing that solid shot, I kept punching and the cards complied. I won three big pots with AK, AA and 88 over the next few hours, along with some other decent ones, and suddenly the tide had turned. I had my opponents on the ropes, landing some big shots, dodging all of theirs and dictating the pace of the action. We were nearing the end of the day and approaching the $$ and I was now well ahead on all three judges' scorecards. 

They fought back some and landed a few shots on me, but I was still in full control when I found 10 10 and raised in early position. Two people called and the flop came down 753 with two spades. The big blind went-all in for about 1/3 of my stack. I went through the mental gymnastics and called him. He showed 99 and I was in great shape. The turn was an ace. I closed in. Ready to deliver the final uppercut. When suddenly... where did that overhand right come from??? A 9 fell on the river.

I was down. Stunned. Woozy. So much for momentum. I staggered to my feet and beat the count. But things had changed. I was off balance now. I tried to recapture all that was working previously but I misplayed one hand and was suddenly back on the ropes myself. Low on chips, short on time, No longer stalking my opponents, they were circling me and out for blood. When I got all in with KQ vs K9 on a KJ9 board, I was two punches away from being knocked out for good. A left and a right later and I was on the canvas and and out of the tournament. 

Some losses are crueler than others, providing more "why didn't I and what if?" scenarios. But the end result is the same. Elimination. Tournament death. And way earlier than you thought it would be.

As you drag your bruised and battered body out of the tournament area, there is shame, there is guilt, there is sadness. You want to fight again, want to fight again soon. But right now, you need time to heal. Hopefully you'll get another shot. Maybe even a title shot. You know you'll need to work your way back up again. But your resolve is there. Even if it takes years, more years than you'd like, you'll do it. Because when you believe in a dream, you don't ever let it truly die.

Poker..meet Kelly. Kelly.. Poker

Between the WSOP in 2008 and 2009, I met my wife. As a single man for the better part of the previous decade, it was certainly an adjustment getting used to sharing my life with someone again. And while the relationship side of me flourished, the poker side of took something of a hit. It made sense. Time, energy, focus, space in my brain... I simply could not consume poker in the same manner as before. Working 8 hours a day and playing 3-4 hours of poker at night was a fairly standard schedule for me prior to March of 2009. I had put in a lot of time and played an uncountable amount of hands to get to where I was. And the reality is that not being in a relationship allowed for the climb. I had the time, I had the drive, I made the decision to spend a large chunk of my "free" time playing this game. And while it was somewhat isolating at times, I wouldn't change the arc of how everything played out. It made into a good poker player. And it led me to Kelly.

When we first started dating, I would try to walk through big hands that I played. I'd get into my thought process, how it shifted throughout the hand and what I was looking to do. Eventually, the story concluded and I'd eagerly await her reaction about how fascinating the whole thing was. But instead:

"Soooooo, you lost?"

"Yeah, but...."

Ugh. Ok fine, so she was a little more results oriented than I'd like. She has always been supportive of this endeavor and knows how fiercely I care about the game. I rode that support to Vegas again in June of 2009 to play one of the preliminary $1k events at the World Series. 

And it's in that event that I played the hand that I think about more than any other.. even to this day.

Unfortunately, it's less dream and more nightmare...