Poker: Inside the Aquarium

“Poker is never going to change your life”

My Wife, last week

Please allow me to introduce myself: I am one of the legions of fishy amateurs to take up Hold ‘Em as a hobby/addiction in the wake of the 2003 WSOP. I am the embodiment of the Moneymaker Effect – a father of two, decent job, guy-next-door, type of guy. I’ve played poker with the same group of guys for years in a wild-game home game. They are also now Hold ‘Em fans, and no longer play anything else now that they consider themselves to be “serious” players.

I play the low-limits, and when I say low-limits, I mean LOW-limits: generally nothing higher than .25/.50, although lately I’ve become addicted to a .25 NL game with a $10 minimum buy-in. And sit-and-go’s, because I love the action from the bubble to heads-up. Other than the semi-regular home game, I only play online at Absolute Poker.

Playing the low-limit games is a great way to get tons of experience without risking much money, but it’s also a great way to ingrain some really bad habits. As most of you already realize, a person’s focus and discipline is usually directly related to the amount of money they stand to win (or lose). When you combine a low-limit game with a mentality that seems to lend itself to lapses in discipline, then place a healthy dose of poor spousal support on top, the ride gets… interesting.

For instance, I have only deposited $15 at Absolute Poker; while my bankroll has climbed to many times that amount, it has also been nearly depleted because there’s always a little voice in my head saying “Go ahead and call - at the end of the day, all you’ve really lost is $15”. Definitely not a healthy way to approach the game for the serious player; so I have to wonder if I can really consider myself a serious player. I know I have no illusions about moving up the limits, quitting my job, turning pro… that just isn’t in the cards for me. I enjoy my job more than I would enjoy the grind of the table every day, and honestly, I would have to be playing the upper portions of the mid-limits as a consistent winner to come close to compensating for the loss in income, benefits, and lack of variance in my paycheck. Emotionally, I couldn’t perform in a way that would allow me to be a consistent winner.

And that’s fine. I consider it healthy that I know my limits, no pun intended. So, why play?

First, of course, is the enjoyment and challenge of the game. In what other sport or game can you jump at any moment and match wits to take another person’s hard-earned money? That alone makes it fun. Second, while I have stated that I have no illusions about my limits in poker, I also have no restrictions on my dreams. Like most poker players, I have the dream of winning the big tournament. I know how to play this game, and I’ve seen runs where the cards fall right and I play focused that tell me that, like the NFL, any given day could be mine. To play lights-out poker for a week, catching the right cards at the right time – yeah, that’s possible for any of us.

So, if I believe I can play well enough to compete, why don’t I believe I have the intestinal fortitude to build a bankroll and move up through the limits? Discipline. Long-term discipline. It’s one thing to play your “A” game for 5 days. It’s another to play it for 5 years.

My bad habits are the same as a lot of you reading this: I try to parlay my winnings in big games for which I’m not prepared; I chase losses, making bigger and bigger bets to ‘get it back’; I play short sessions where I don’t give myself a chance to make solid hands; and I play sessions that are too long and lose focus.

Yes, I could work on these leaks, and I do work on them every day. I’ve had success overcoming the frequency that each will occur; but they haven’t been eliminated entirely. Why? It probably goes back to what I said earlier about not having enough money at stake. If there was ever a ‘chicken vs. egg’ conundrum, this is it. You can’t play your best without significant risks and rewards, but you can’t gather a bankroll significant enough to care about without disciplined play.

The amateur psychologists probably would say that people like me, who can play very well at times, will make the bad play at the wrong time to “punish” ourselves. When poker is not integrated into our lives in a healthy way, the opportunity costs can be tremendous. Taking time away from our families is probably a universal cost among every-day players. Our families resent the time we spend playing a game, especially when the stakes are so small compared – after all, what’s $10 when compared to reading a story to your child?

When our spouses are complaining that we’re not spending time with them, it’s very hard to sit at a table and watch 50 hands go by for an hour and wait for great cards. Sometimes we get to ‘feelin’ froggy’ – feeling like we just HAVE TO play this hand, even when we shouldn’t. At least we can say we’re participating in our hobby rather than spend the evening watching Jeff Probst torture a bunch of narcissists in a south seas paradise.

So, is it possible that deep in my subconscious there’s a gremlin that says, “Hey, you screwed up and neglected your kids today, so you have to bluff off all your chips on the next hand?” I suppose it’s possible. But, I’m not one that believes in these hidden compulsions to hurt ourselves in this manner. Sometimes, I play A-9 offsuit from early position because it’s fun to see if I can get away with it. Sometimes, I raise with 7-2 offsuit so I’ll have a funny story to tell (although, it can be a good play in the right situation – but that’s another story altogether!). And, sometimes, I do it just because I’m feeling froggy.

I know a lot of the ‘serious players’ are saying, “Great! Can’t wait to find this guy at MY table!” Before you look up someone like me, however, you should understand that the thing that gets us to bear down and compete is when we identify a strong player at the table. Splashing chips with other fish is fun; but we get off on changing gears and taking chips from the strong. It’s just the way of proving to ourselves that, like sweets, we can quit anytime and get slim, trim, and in fighting shape.

I hope this article has given some insight into the way a players like me approach the game. For those of you like me, know you have brethren in the game. For those of you better than me – stay away from my table!


Written By Tim Lovelock specifically for Cardschat.com
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