The good time was our longest-ever road trip, last summer, during WSOP. Booked 19 nights at Bellagio, but we stayed a full month. Then on to The Commerce, for 4 free nights on points from last year's trip, but we stayed there a full month, too, because once you're there, it's hard to leave a place where all under one roof you can find:
- Four or more $40/80 games every day.
- A nice 3.5 star hotel.
- Starbucks coffee.
- Genuine Playboy Bunnies dealing pit games and delivering cocktails.
The bad words aren't the kind that will make Mom wash your mouth out with soap. By themselves, these words aren't really bad at all, but the human behaviors, personality traits, actions and attitudes that they describe are, well, unfortunate. Unattractive. Pitiful. Pathetic. Bad. And sometimes it just seems like we see these things perhaps a little more at the poker table than in other aspects of life.
These are words like: Arrogant. Narcissistic. Cruel. Rude. Stupid. Ignorant.
We left home June 12, drove to Boise, and spent the night. Next day on to Twin Falls, hang a right, south through Jackpot and Wells, and we spent night two in Ely, a couple hundred miles north of Vegas, at the ancient Hotel Nevada.
Fun place. 6 deck blackjack with good rules, dealt deep, but $25 max bet. Low roller heaven.
Friday and Saturday, locals come in from all around, sign up on a chalkboard alongside the lone poker table in the corner of the tiny casino, and at 7:00pm they crank it up: POT LIMIT HOLD 'EM, with $1 and $2 blinds.
Yup, that's their game, most everyone knew everyone, and few of them were younger than me. I have zero experience or know-how at any structure besides Limit, but sat in this wacky throwback game anyway, "just for fun," I told myself.
It had been some years since I sat in a 10 handed game, and even longer since I'd seen smoking allowed at the table. It was also the slowest game ever, in large part because the dealer was also the cashier.
And once it finally got going, it was a limpfest. Then I got AA under the gun, and was quickly reminded that I had no frickin' clue what I was doing in this game. Got up soon thereafter, to go sleep for the drive to Vegas in the morning. For some dumb reason I'm thinking I might like to prepare some, then go back there sometime and try that game again.
Fun place. 6 deck blackjack with good rules, dealt deep, but $25 max bet. Low roller heaven.
Friday and Saturday, locals come in from all around, sign up on a chalkboard alongside the lone poker table in the corner of the tiny casino, and at 7:00pm they crank it up: POT LIMIT HOLD 'EM, with $1 and $2 blinds.
Yup, that's their game, most everyone knew everyone, and few of them were younger than me. I have zero experience or know-how at any structure besides Limit, but sat in this wacky throwback game anyway, "just for fun," I told myself.
It had been some years since I sat in a 10 handed game, and even longer since I'd seen smoking allowed at the table. It was also the slowest game ever, in large part because the dealer was also the cashier.
And once it finally got going, it was a limpfest. Then I got AA under the gun, and was quickly reminded that I had no frickin' clue what I was doing in this game. Got up soon thereafter, to go sleep for the drive to Vegas in the morning. For some dumb reason I'm thinking I might like to prepare some, then go back there sometime and try that game again.
Parked the CR-V in the Bellagio garage Sunday at 1:00 pm, wheeled our bags into the lobby, and ran into the longest check-in line ever. It seemed like a never ending queue, snaked around and around in circles, filling the lobby. Shit. This is gonna take forever.
Then I noticed the "Invited Guests" desk, off to one side, one guy there, with nobody behind him. I thought to myself that, in this context, Invited means Comped, and I don't qualify. Then I thought about that What Happens in Vegas slogan, and isn't this exactly the right moment for a WCBSA (World-Class Bullshit Artist) like me to take the shot?
So I zipped over there, just as that one guy finished. Stepped right up, they never blinked, and we beat the long line, got checked-in quickly, and they even sent a refrigerator to our room, for the duration, no charge. Thank you. Sometimes, all you gotta do is ask!
Arrogance
"An insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people." (Merriam-Webster)
Doesn't it seem like we see lots of this at the poker table? It it just the people in my games, or do you find that too? For me, it seems to happen in varying degrees, like Minor, Medium, and Extreme.
Arrogance I — Minor, Low Level Stuff
Private Showing
Often times after a bet and no call, the bettor might then show his cards, but only to his neighbor(s), or to the guy that folded, or perhaps only to the distant end.
Sometimes it happens before the flop, when a player shows his neighbor(s) the hand he's folding. And sometimes cards are even exposed to a live player who hasn't acted yet.
Isn't that arrogant, rude and disrespectful?
Doesn't that say "Hey, screw you guys. I know the rule is Show One, Show All, but no. I'll just show who I want."
Toss the Dog a Bone.
If you want to toke the floorman, do you throw him a chip, as though you were throwing a treat to your dog? Isn't that arrogant too? And demeaning. While you're at it, why don't you rub his belly and tell him what a good boy he is?
The Cover-up.
Bet and called on the river, and your opponent turns over his hand, but doesn't spread the cards. With one partly covering the other, you can't see what he has.
I call that arrogant too. If you do that to me, you're wasting time, because I'm just going to wait for my turn, and wait until you show down properly.
And if the dealer tries to tell me what you have, she's wasting time too. In poker, I have a strict policy of NEVER trusting my ears, but ONLY trusting my eyes. So I'll tell her, "Thanks, but hearing about it doesn't help. Sorry. May we SEE IT, please?"
I call that arrogant too. If you do that to me, you're wasting time, because I'm just going to wait for my turn, and wait until you show down properly.
And if the dealer tries to tell me what you have, she's wasting time too. In poker, I have a strict policy of NEVER trusting my ears, but ONLY trusting my eyes. So I'll tell her, "Thanks, but hearing about it doesn't help. Sorry. May we SEE IT, please?"
Don’t Touch!
Suppose we’re sitting beside one another, and the dealer accidentally pitches your card more towards me than you. Should I do you a favor, and slide it over to you? That’s what most players do in this situation. Me? No freakin’ way.
Instead, I’m going to move my own card(s), and my hands, AWAY from your maverick card, and give you plenty of space to reach over and retrieve it yourself. I mean, only the tiniest chance, but what if I touch it, and accidentally flip it over?
It’s not like I ever gave this a lot of thought, or read it in a book, or otherwise was taught by anyone to never touch any cards at the table, except the two dealt to me. And it’s not like I’m particularly trying to observe proper etiquette, or be a good citizen. No. Quite honestly, the real reason I could never touch your cards, or the board, muck, deck or pot is: Cowardice.
That right, fear. I’m afraid. I’m not gonna put my fingers in the fan, or on a hot stove burner, or a live electric socket, and most times am not going to be touching you, or any other person, either. I know where my hands belong, and where they don’t belong, and am not willing to accept the consequence of (take responsibility for) arrogantly putting them where they’re not supposed to be.
Here’s an example of what can happen when one player touches another’s cards:
Commerce 40/80, and I'm in Seat 3, looking at the ugliest man in the room: Slobadong Milosodik, in Seat 1.
Just how ugly is he? Put it like this: If I had a dog that ugly, I would shave his ass, and make him walk backwards.
OK, wait a minute. I made it sound like the man is physically unattractive, just so I could slip in that [hilarious?][stupid?] old Army joke about shaving the dog.
Actually, he doesn't look all that bad. Well dressed, nice wavy hair, good skin, white teeth, gold jewellery. But if we can have inner beauty, then can't we also be frighteningly ugly on the inside? That's Slobo.
His accent suggests that Slobo may be from someplace East of Italy, South of Hungary, and North of Greece.
His demeanor and behavior reveal that Slobo is a cruel bully who likes to degrade and denigrate pretty much anyone, especially a player that beats him, and/or the dealer who brought that beat. And if the target of his obnoxious vitriol happens to be a lady, then Slobo turns on the misogyny right away.
An Assist on the Play
Commerce 40/80, and I'm in Seat 3, looking at the ugliest man in the room: Slobadong Milosodik, in Seat 1.
Just how ugly is he? Put it like this: If I had a dog that ugly, I would shave his ass, and make him walk backwards.
OK, wait a minute. I made it sound like the man is physically unattractive, just so I could slip in that [hilarious?][stupid?] old Army joke about shaving the dog.
Actually, he doesn't look all that bad. Well dressed, nice wavy hair, good skin, white teeth, gold jewellery. But if we can have inner beauty, then can't we also be frighteningly ugly on the inside? That's Slobo.
His accent suggests that Slobo may be from someplace East of Italy, South of Hungary, and North of Greece.
His demeanor and behavior reveal that Slobo is a cruel bully who likes to degrade and denigrate pretty much anyone, especially a player that beats him, and/or the dealer who brought that beat. And if the target of his obnoxious vitriol happens to be a lady, then Slobo turns on the misogyny right away.
Like we said, as ugly as it gets.
So Slobo open raises under the gun, and it's muck, muck, muck, all the way around to Little Miss Saigon, in Seat 7.
Except she's not there. I guess she asked to be dealt in; two cards await her action, but the chair is vacant. The dealer motions for somebody to send the hand in, and the upstate New York "semi-pro" tourist in Seat 6 responds, but first he grabs her cards, and takes a good look! Then, by the time he goes to send them in, here comes Missy, running back to the table.
"Wait! Wait!" she cries. And they do give her back her hand, and she does call the raise. Big Blind calls too.
Slobo in Seat 1 has AK, and flops top two pair. Blind flops a flush draw, and there's plenty of action. Little Missy has pocket threes, and hangs on with remarkable tenacity, taking the heat and calling the raises. Then she spikes a set on the river, and makes grown men cry. No actual tears, but the prolonged high pitched whine is just as bad, if not worse.
So Slobo open raises under the gun, and it's muck, muck, muck, all the way around to Little Miss Saigon, in Seat 7.
Except she's not there. I guess she asked to be dealt in; two cards await her action, but the chair is vacant. The dealer motions for somebody to send the hand in, and the upstate New York "semi-pro" tourist in Seat 6 responds, but first he grabs her cards, and takes a good look! Then, by the time he goes to send them in, here comes Missy, running back to the table.
"Wait! Wait!" she cries. And they do give her back her hand, and she does call the raise. Big Blind calls too.
Slobo in Seat 1 has AK, and flops top two pair. Blind flops a flush draw, and there's plenty of action. Little Missy has pocket threes, and hangs on with remarkable tenacity, taking the heat and calling the raises. Then she spikes a set on the river, and makes grown men cry. No actual tears, but the prolonged high pitched whine is just as bad, if not worse.
Then Slobo thinks about how Missy could never have beat him if her neighbor hadn’t “saved” her hand for her, and he goes off on that so loudly and venomously that the floorman has to come over and shut him up.
Man vs. Machine
Arti. That's what I call my opponent on the "Artificial Intelligence" poker machines on the casino floor at Bellagio, right outside the poker room.
Heads Up Texas Hold Em, NO RAKE, $2/4, $4/8 or $10/20; take your pick. You can put in a slot club card and get a win-loss statement, but they don't earn any club points or comps.
These machines have been around a few years now, and I like them a lot. Maybe too much. I hear some other casinos have them playing higher limits, and/or earning comps. One pro I really respect told me he dropped $30K playing $40/80 against Arti at [some other casino]. Ouch.
To arrive at the optimal Heads Up strategy, Arti's programmers would have completely understood something called Game Theory. Me? I just barely may have half a clue what that means.
Surprisingly, Arti has a "Peek" button that you can push after the hand is over, and his holecards will be revealed! If he bluffed you, or you bluffed him, or you (or he) made a good (or bad) laydown, whatever, you get to see it. Very interesting. You can also see that, of course, Arti varies his play sometimes. I guess the "random" frequency of those variations is a big part of all that Game Theory stuff.
I played against Arti some, as best I could, on a couple previous trips, and didn't do so well. But I stayed with the lowest $2/$4 limit, so neither did I get hurt too badly.
After the last trip I went home and thought about it quite a lot, decided to take a different approach, and arrived at my own non-scientific strategy for play against Arti. Here it is:
Heads Up against a human opponent, if you play way overly aggressive, bluffing far too often, and pretty much always representing a hand, it won't take long at all for her to pick up on it. Then, once she has your number, she can optimally counter all that, and should be able to bleed you dry.
But playing against Arti is like that movie, 50 First Dates. Arti has no memory from one hand to the next; he doesn't know you from Adam, and for all he knows, or cares, he could be facing a different opponent on every deal.
And so, I decided, yes, against Arti I should be "way overly aggressive, bluffing far too often, and pretty much always representing a hand." And that's basically what I did this time, part-time for a month, rough guess 5,000 deals. At $2/$4, that's lots of fun, and this time I did OK, and won a few hundred bucks.
One time I sat down and on the first hand raised with pocket deuces, flopped a set, and a raising war ensued. Then I see that the pot is over $150, and discovered that I was inadvertently playing $10/20. Forgot to check what limit was set before I started, and the last guy had been way braver than me. Turned out Arti had AA, and I won. Phew.
Mission Accomplished?
So can I declare victory? Does this trip win mean I can beat the machine, and should move up in limits? Hardly. My month of part-time play is too small a sample size to be at all significant. But it was encouraging, and I look forward to some more $2/$4 machine play next time we get to Vegas.
Bad River
Heads up on the turn, and we go five bets.
Then he checks the river, I check too, and he shows me quad Nines. I felt pretty OK about how:
- He checked the nuts on the end, and;
- I didn't fall for it.
So in spite of losing the big pot, I put this hand in the victory column. Call me crazy.
Diamond Lil's 20/40. Tom has a big pair, and goes all-in heads-up against Doc, who performs a surgical but unlikely river suckout, and takes the pot.
"Nice hand," Tom says. Then he stands up, takes out his wallet, and heads towards the cashier.
Amazing Grace
"Nice hand," Tom says. Then he stands up, takes out his wallet, and heads towards the cashier.
"Here," adds Tom, the biggest mensch since Pope Francis. "Let me go get you some more chips."
Arrogance II - Medium Level
Gimme, Gimme
How about when you get called on the river, show down, and you think you've won. Do you reach into the pot and start grabbing chips? Take back your last bet? Many players do this. To me, that seems arrogant, even if you turn over the stone nuts. Plus:
Q: When is it OK for a player to put his fingers into the pot?
A: Never.
Unless, of course, you're one of the lucky few who are "special." Then you can ignore the rules, and do as you please.
Leisure Suit Larry is a champ at this. For him, it’s an involuntary reflex, and he’ll pretty much always start grabbing and stacking chips right away, if he just *thinks* he turned over the best hand. He did it to me the other day, on a fourflush board, where my straight beat his two pair. The dealer and I both had to prompt him to return the last bets he had taken back, and he claimed he didn’t realize that he had done it.
Like a Boss
Some players like to tell the dealer, or the floorman, how to do his job, and how to run the game. Some nerve, huh? Where these people get off, thinking it's their place to give such instruction, I'll never know.
The Laugh's On You
At the showdown sometimes players will laugh at the loser, or maybe even the suckout winner, and will ridicule his play. This is particularly common at Diamond Lil's, where the regular cadre of players know one another all too well.
Arrogant? Disrespectful, at least. I never wanted to laugh at anyone after one of us beat the other.
Keep 'Em Waiting
You're eating, or distracted by your phone, tablet or the bigscreen TV, or talking to a waitress, masseuse, or whomever, and don't realize that it's your turn to act. So the dealer, or maybe a player, might prompt you, and let you know the action is waiting on you. Doesn't this happen to everyone now and then?
Sure. But some guys don't respond immediately. Some guys continue whatever else they're doing, and happily keep the entire table waiting while, for example, they finish giving their lunch order, or digging for cash to give the chip runner.
Arrogant.
Dirty Play
Commerce 40/80. I'm Big Blind, in seat 7, and stoic little Maggie is the Small Blind, right beside me in 6.
Here's a very nice but stonefaced lady who can go two hours without saying a single word. Well, I just love a challenge, so sometimes I make it my personal mission to say something that will make her smile. A couple times I actually made her laugh. Wasn't easy, believe me.
Sleazy Jo Jo open-limps under the gun in 8, and it's muck, muck, muck, around to Sally (some random lady) in seat 3. She raises. The Cutoff, Button, Maggie, and I, all fold.
So now the Sleaze the Limper is heads up with Sally the Raiser, and at this point he can call, reraise, or fold. Right?
But he does none of those things. Instead, he puts his fingers into the pot, takes back his limp-bet, and asks Sally "Do you want the profit?"
She neither responds nor seems to understand, so Sleaze repeats the question, verbatim. Sally still doesn't get it, so the player beside her starts explaining that Sleaze wants to surrender now, if he can have his limp back.
Meanwhile, Sleaze mucks his hand, and the typically oblivious Commerce dealer pushes the remaining pot (our blinds) to Sally.
And now she gets it. Well, almost. Seemingly unaware that Sleaze ALREADY took back his bet, Sally tosses ANOTHER 4 chips across the table to him, and he puts those on his stack too, without hesitation.
Then two guys point out how Sleaze just got his bet back TWICE, and that he needs to send those last 4 chips back to Sally. So he does. Reluctantly, it appears.
I watched all this, incredulous, and still regret today that I didn't react right away. The next hand was already in progress by the time I processed it all, and realized how badly we'd just been screwed. And by then it was too late.
Were I not such a dullard — were I at that moment better able to "think fast" — I should have immediately called for the floorman, described what just went down, then
a. Maggie and I get our blinds back, or;
b. He bust Sleaze for stealing chips from the pot.
And you can bet I'll be watching Sleaze like a hawk from now on. I ain't falling for his shit again, ever.
b. He bust Sleaze for stealing chips from the pot.
And you can bet I'll be watching Sleaze like a hawk from now on. I ain't falling for his shit again, ever.
Ignorant vs. Stupid
Do you know how to fly a 747? No? Me neither. So in that sense, we're both ignorant.
But I'd bet that either of us *could* complete ground school, and flight school, take all the lessons, and fly that puppy just fine. After all, we're not stupid.
At least that's what I was taught: That stupid lacks mental capacity, but ignorant just didn't learn [whatever] yet. So, for example, in those horrible “cultures” that don’t let girls go to school, illiterate women are ignorant only because they were denied the opportunity to learn. Doesn't mean they're stupid.
That was a clear distinction, but sometimes it's not so easy to decide whether something is stupid, or ignorant. Take the betting rules at Bellagio, and Commerce. All their tables have what was originally a "betting line" oval, and when chips crossed that line, on the cloth or just on your hand, that was a bet. Fine. Simple rule, easy to understand, not much wiggle room.
Except for one small detail. They’ve changed the rules at both those places, and it not a betting line any more. At The Commerce, you can put down four, or eight chips, as appropriate, just in front of your stack, six inches BEHIND that line, and that’s a bet. Furthermore, as I learned THE HARD WAY a few years ago, any forward motion, with chips in your hand, is a bet, cross the line or not.
OK, those rules are fine too, so long as they’re consistent, and understood. But why is that oval betting line still on the table at Commerce?
And why is the line still on the tables at Bellagio? Staff there couldn’t answer, but they did tell me “We don’t use it.” And forward motion means nothing there; it’s not a bet until you “cut chips on the cloth.”
So, again, both places have a Betting Line on the table that is not really a Betting Line at all. It’s just there for decoration. And that, friends, qualifies for the somewhat unusual status of being BOTH ignorant AND stupid.
Another qualifier for that dubious “Ignorant AND Stupid” status is the pervasive and sincere belief, among so many players, that the dealer is somehow personally responsible, and should be blamed, for their bad luck. You see these people, you hear their whine, and you have to wonder how anyone so unacquainted with reality can manage to survive the complexities and intricacies of life in the real world.
Basic Training, Day 1, Lesson #1
Protect your Hand. This isn't about betting or raising to protect your equity in the pot. That comes later.
This is about a more basic and rudimentary skill: Keep a tight grip on the cards dealt to you, shield them from anyone else's view, and, most importantly, release them at the showdown only:
1. In exchange for the pot, when you win, or;
2. When you clearly see that you are beat.
Did we just call that a skill? It's not. It's just a simple idea, so obvious, that it should come intuitively, to anyone, without even thinking about it. That's why this type of concept is named after me! They call it a No Brainer.
Example:
DL 20/40. Shouter Mole has pocket Kings, and flops a set against MD and Elvis. Lots of bets and raises. The pot gets large.
On the end, Shouter shows MD his Kings, and MD mucks. So Shouter throws his hand into the muck too, and expects/prepares to receive the pot.
Too bad Shouter ¿forgot? all about Elvis, who still has a hand!
Too bad the floorman checked the camera, and saw that Shouter only "showed" (exposed) his hand to MD, but didn't actually table his cards; he didn't "show down."
Too bad that Shouter didn't seem to like it one bit when Elvis didn't even have to show, and was awarded the pot.
And really too bad— a damn shame, if you ask me— that Shouter learned nothing from that sad event. More than once since then he sat beside the dealer, left his hand unprotected, and the dealer took it into the muck. The floor was called, but it was Tough Luck, Chuck both times. A few other times he flung his cards to show down, or released prematurely, or otherwise totally failed to protect his hand.
Stupid Question of the Month
Q: Who raised?
A: The guy with eight chips in front of him.
No Respect
Diamond Lil’s 20/40 at 3:00am. 8 Pacific Rim ESL guys, and me. I’m glad to be in Seat 3, since Crazy Henry is in 2, and raising nearly every hand.
Mrs. Rock and I just call him that, between ourselves, but there’s really nothing crazy at all about Henry. English is not his first language, but he’s mastered it, and is a very smart and educated guy, engaged and engaging, and very much in tune with, well, everything. Only one guy looked at my huge new (old) Samsung phone and recognized the Galaxy MEGA right away. Henry. I only take stock tips from one guy at DL. Henry. Good tips, too.
Henry's wife sits behind and watches him sometimes, and they might drink a bit together. She's really nice, and just as articulate as he, if not more so. The vanity plate on their car, maybe the sweetest thing I ever saw, reads: REALOVE.
But in spite of all that, Henry plays Hold Em like a Maniac. Most times his basic strategy is: Steamroller. And that sure was his mode on this night, so, like I say, I was happy to be right behind him, in the cutoff, when he open raises, as usual, and I look down to find KT Spades in the pocket.
No way I’m calling. Against many [most?] opponents, I’m probably folding. But against this wildman? Three Bet. He caps, and we’re heads-up.
Why 3 bet in that spot? Maybe my reraise should intimidate a tough opponent, and enable me to pick up the pot if neither of us flops anything?
That almost sounds right, except Henry is NOT a tough opponent, and is NOT gonna lay down just because he didn’t flop anything.
So let’s try again. Why 3 bet in that spot, this time? How about because my KTs will be better, on average, than the “any two cards” Henry will raise with. In this case, yes, I like that better. And I liked the two spades on the flop too, as that should empower me to play aggressively, and maybe I can bet/raise, and win, and don’t even need to get there.
Oops, wrong again. That might be true with some opponents, but not Henry. He’s just not big on folding. As it turned out, I did raise my flush draw on the flop, but he 3 bet. Then he bet the turn and river, and my spade never did come. I didn’t even make a pair.
So I have nothing, have burned a bunch of chips, and should probably fold. I mean, I can’t remember the last time (if ever) that I called anyone with King high.
But, again, this is Henry, so this is different. There are 19 small bets in the pot, and it costs me 2 to call. So is there better than one chance in 9.5 that he has a worse nothing than me? This guy? Yes. So I put it in, he says “Good call,” shows the two small cards, no pair, that he bet all the way, and my King wins. Fine. I’m happy to be stacking chips, don’t feel like making any smartass remarks, and just keep quiet.
But not Henry. And not Smilin’ John, down there in Seat 6 with a big stack of Chirpin' Chips. They, and LC Fedora in 8, and Shouter Mole in 9, all laugh at me, and offer plenty of loud ridicule over my “crazy” and “unbelievable” and “desperate” play. I nod in agreement, and laugh along with them.
They don’t understand that the unusual play of this hand was quite atypical, and entirely situational. I'm not at all motivated to explain, and am perfectly happy to let them think me a fool. Who knows, they may be right!
Level III: EXTREME Arrogance
Above the Law
Richard Nixon thought he was above the law, and it cost him the presidency. So if The Leader of the Free World can't get away with it, what makes poker players in a public cardroom think they can ignore the rules, and do whatever they please?
Simple. When the cardroom cares more about bottom line profits than game integrity, you can play fast and loose with the rules. Well, within limits. Nobody gets away with with gross felonies like marking, crimping, daubing or switching cards, or stealing chips, unless they're skillful enough to go undetected.
But other, lesser transgressions are rarely challenged. Every day, we see players put their fingers where they don't belong, like into the muck, cards on the board, the pot, or another player's cards or stack. Fearing repercussions, they probably wouldn’t try to put their hands into the cash drawer at the supermarket or the bank, nor on some other guy’s wife. But in the cardroom, the player with no respect for you, or for the rules, will generally do whatever he thinks he can get away with. Ignoring the English Only rule is a good example.
Giving Orders
I talked about my policy of only trusting my eyes, and never my ears, at the poker table. Another strict policy is that I would never argue with another player, nor try to tell them what to do, nor what not to do. And when another player tries to tell me what (not) to do, I respond not at all, but instead show them how it feels to be ignored.
Isn't that extremely arrogant, when one player tries to order other players around? First off, why should they listen to me? And what’s the chance, right or wrong, that I’m gonna win any kind of an argument, anyway? Change the other guy’s mind, get him to see it my way? Fat chance.
So if I have a problem with something in the game, first I ask myself if it’s even worth pursuing, or maybe I should just pass, and pick another battle, another time?
Then, if it is worth pursuing, I'll speak about it only to the dealer or floorman. Examples might include asking them to “please show all” some exposed cards, or can they “please stack those bets” that players splashed out there.
Sometimes it gets weird. Sometimes, not often, you need to get creative to affect a desired and necessary change in a player's behavior. Like the following example, where I kinda had to play Undercover Cop.
Mrs. Fingers
Commerce 40/80. Medium-big pot, bets and a couple raises, multi-way. I'm in Seat 5, and when the flop betting round is complete, the lady beside me in 6 "helps" the dealer bring in the chips, by pushing them towards the center with the palms of both hands.
I've known and played with this lady, and her husband, for years. They're both smart and very entertaining, and she's particularly funny in the game. I guess the only thing I don't much like about them is that they both play too well, and don't give anything away.
"Don't touch those chips!" I yelled at her. "Keep your fingers out of the pot!" I hollered.
Well, no, I didn't. That's not me. But I sure wanted to, because players' hands in the pot is intolerable. Period.
So if not yell, and confront the culprit, probably a bad choice, then what is a good choice? What's the best thing I can do, that can MAKE IT STOP?
"Time, please!" I tell the dealer. "Sorry— I apologize for this— but when a player touches the pot like that, I just get too nervous to continue.
"So whenever that happens, I have to ask you to stop, and count the pot down. Sorry, but that's my policy."
There's that word again, but out loud this time: Policy. And isn't it a nice word for this context? Sounds kind of official, maybe even authoritative, doesn't it?
So the dealer starts counting it down, and right away a couple players moan, and start whining about how much time we're wasting. But then, bless 'em, a couple others say that they don't like players touching the pot either.
Bottom line is that a clear "No Fingers in The Pot!" message was sent, but disguised in an apparently apologetic tone, without getting personal, accusatory, confrontational, or otherwise ugly about it.
Mrs. Fingers kept them in fair territory after that, and we're still buds.
Because I Can
You like Seat 3, and always move there if you can. Hey, me too! 8 is my real favorite, but 3 is a close second. Lucky numbers? Maybe for you, but for me it's more of a Feng Shui Planetary Alignment kind of a thing.
Anyway, since you're a far reach from the dealer, maybe you could be considerate, show a little human kindness, and send your cards and chips in for her? Just a little?
But no, Dr.Torture, you like to stack your bets and fold your cards 2 inches in front of your stack, way out there in left field, and make her stand up and reach for them. Especially if you're running bad today.
Why? Because you can. Simple as that. It's not easy to find a venue where you can screw with people like that, again and again, and get away with it. And you really enjoy that, don’t you?
Everyone's true character shows itself at the poker table, and you are no exception. Hell, you're more like the poster child for that axiom. And that's the part I can't figure out. Why would you want to show everyone what a lowlife you are, day after day? Shouldn't you more likely want to keep it a secret?
Administrivia
If you’re new to this blog, you should probably want to go back and read all the old posts. Well, unless you actually have a life; then you may have better things to do. In that case, let me please recommend one favorite, from January 2011: Cheap Thrills.
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