17
Niktak has it right
I’m a sixty-year-old psychiatrist — that’s an MD who works as a shrink — and a serious poker player. Think of me as a guy who has the look of Dan Harrington, the avuncular nature of Doyle Brunson, and the playing skill of the average of the rest of you. I played once with Phil Helmuth and finished ahead of him, if that helps. I’m a medical school professor and part of the Texas poker underground.
Every so often we read an article that seems almost mysteriously directed at our situation in life, or more importantly, our situation in poker. That’s what happened to me when I enjoyed Niktak’s article about his experience of bouncing around with his bankroll. Let me add a couple of comments to his excellent observations about winning, losing, and bankroll management. I’ll try to do it without appending any bad beat stories.
When poker began to take off (remember the first season of WPT?)and amateur games popped up all over the map, I started playing once or twice a week and really enjoying the game. What I realized was that for the first time I was usually playing with strangers, and I also realized that poker is like chess or backgammon: you have to take it seriously or you will never really “get it” in terms of the joy of the game. For most of us that means eventually playing for money. And that means eventually playing for money that is significant enough to matter. In my case, although you might think a doctor has loads of cash (look at Nasiri on TV in High Stakes Poker) it’s not always true. So when I started out playing in tournaments, a $100 buy-in was just huge. When I first sat down in a casino, a $200 buy-in seemed like ten times that much. I live well, but I drive a Toyota Carolla and get my pants at Men’s Wearhouse.
There is a line in a Sarah McLachlan song (”Angel”) that says, “You minimize the losses and exagerrate the wins,” and that is definitely true in poker. Although I tell many people that I win more often than I lose, the truth is that my results are much closer to break-even. The reason for this is really very simple, and now I am beginning to see it change, because after careful analysis I got truthful with myself and looked for the leaks in my game.
My biggest losses have been the nights where I go down more than $500. I don’t have many winning nights that big. This means that I accumulate three or four winning nights and then “give it all back” with a bad run. Here’s what happens to me on the nights when things go badly. I hate it that these observations are true, but I can’t lie about the facts.
1. I almost always lose when I play tired. A sixty year old man can’t work all day and then go into a casino at nine at night and have much positive expectation. Yes, it’s terrible to be in Vegas or L.A. and so close to a casino and NOT play, but it’s even worse to go in and go broke. This past year I had three nights where I lost a total of $1200, and each of those nights I started late and stayed too long. On one of those nights I was gone from the table in twenty minutes, having gone all in with a pair on the board and five players seeing the turn, a clear indication that someone was likely to have a set. Poof, and my two pair are toast. Donkey play.
2. There are “spells” or moments when my play is off the mark. I am amazed at how quickly my game can “go south” or deteriorate, almost as though I have fallen asleep or lost my marbles. When playing $1-2 NL or $3-6 Limit it’s easy to think of the game as low key, a bunch of newbies, blah blah blah, but if you think $500 is a lot of money, you can’t go to sleep in these little adventures, or you will end up bankrolling the tourist sitting two seats away from you. I haven’t figured out the best way to avoid “spells,” but I am learning to identify them by three cues. First, I honestly don’t know what’s going on in a hand, and I am not paying attention to hands after I fold. Second, when a new player comes to the table I am involved with them too quickly and have no clue about how they play. Third, I am impulsive. I push chips into the middle before I have my bearings. I misread the situation.
3. Going on “tilt” does not always mean throwing a fit or losing your temper. When I go on tilt, I seldom experience anger. What happens to me is that I focus on something that happened a few minutes ago, perhaps a comment about one of my hands, or a particularly clumsy play that I made. I am a player who cares about his table image, and a lot of older players are like this. You young kids are more casual and loose, which I greatly admire. I’m getting better about this, but when one of you makes a “Tony G” or “Phil Helmuth” type of criticism of my play, it does get under my skin. I have to learn how to deal with this.
I really enjoy the blog and believe that without a doubt Full Tilt Poker has the best scene for new players and old alike. Good luck, everybody, and I’ll see you online soon.
