Texas Holdem Poker
This column marks the anniversary of my first Card Player appearance. Together we have explored poker strategy and theory pretty deeply, and I will continue that next month. In this column, though, I would like to give you a chance to get to know me better.
I started playing poker in summer camp, where I worked as a counselor, and continued to play in college in fraternity games. My main game at that time was bridge, and a lot of study time at the tiny college I attended (Cooper Union in New York City) was devoted to the complexities of that game. Poker games did not seem complex, since you just sort of threw money in the pot and waited to see if you were the winner.
My favorite game was "Anaconda," also known as "Pass the Trash." Each player was dealt seven private cards, and kept four and passed three to his neighbor on the left. For the new seven-card hand, players discarded two, set the other five in order, and rolled them one at a time. There were four betting rounds as the cards were rolled, followed a by a chip declare (yes, this game was played high-low), and a last round of betting. I would love to find a casino that spreads this game, as it was a great deal of fun. I am sure I could do an interesting strategy column on it.
After graduating with an electrical engineering degree, I ended up in Boston, where I did my master's work and played a huge amount of bridge. In fact, I met all of my wives (well, both of them) while playing bridge. My work in the high-tech industry took me to Austin, Texas, and eventually to Silicon Valley (San Jose, California), where I resurrected my interest in poker in a home game with several friends.
Poker Trauma
I had my most traumatic poker experience around that time. During one of my frequent trips to Las Vegas, I found myself wandering around the Las Vegas Hilton, and noticed a poker room. "Well," I thought, "I can do this," and I got a seat in a $1-$5 seven-card stud game. Here, my imagination took over, I guess. I was in Las Vegas playing poker, and it seemed to me that everyone at the table was a world champion. Several players appeared to be straight out of central poker casting: a tall gentleman wearing a huge cowboy hat, a tiny elderly lady smoking an incredibly long cigarette, and a studious-looking young man with glasses, among others. I was more nervous playing this little stud game than I was at my wedding!
Nervously, I played a few hands with nothing much happening. Then, two horrible things occurred. First, I played a hand against a bearded guy on the other side of the table. At the end of the hand, I called the final bet, only to be told that my hand could not beat his upcards. Then, in what was supposed to be a kind gesture, but just added to my embarrassment, they gave me my last bet back and told me not to do that again. Next, I ran low on money in the middle of a hand. Not being willing to ask what to do, I just threw my hand away, picked up my remaining chip, and left the table.
I realize that many of you would never do any of these things, but to this day, I have great sympathy for people who are trying casino poker for the first time, and I go out of my way to help them and make them feel comfortable.
Trying Again
It took several years for me to be willing to try public poker again. One slow evening, I wandered into Garden City Casino in San Jose to look at the poker room. I watched people playing hold'em, which I thought was a very silly game. How much interest could there be in a game with just two cards? In spite of this, I decided to try it, and took a seat at a $1-$2 hold'em table. This was the ultimate loose-passive game. Basically, we all put $1 in and waited for the flop. Sometimes, someone raised, and we all put $2 in and waited for the flop. I had no idea what I was doing, of course, but I was enjoying myself and was determined to learn. I found some books on poker in the bookstore, but they contained almost nothing about hold'em.
Eventually, I decided to try $3-$6 hold'em. This game was almost as loose as the $1-$2 game, but extremely aggressive. It was rare to go a full orbit without at least one hand being capped before the flop.
I was having mixed results, but a lot of fun. One day, I played a hand against an off-duty dealer. After winning the pot with what I guess was an unorthodox hand, the dealer needled, "What book did you get that play out of?"
"Book?" I replied. "There's a book?"
He told me the cashier sold books on hold'em. I then purchased some wonderful books that truly opened my eyes about the game I was playing.
Many people say you cannot beat loose, aggressive no-fold'em games, but I promise that you can. With the help of my new books, I was beating the $3-$6 game very nicely. I moved to $6-$12 after winning what I thought would be a nice bankroll, and beat that, as well.
Then, disaster struck. I took my winnings to a $10-$20 table and lost a lot of it. I went back to $6-$12 to rebuild, and then back to $10-$20 to lose it again. Stubborn as I am, I did this several times before I figured out what I was doing wrong. I had gone from one of the loosest games in the house to what was definitely the tightest. I had not made any adjustments, as I was relying on the "winning" strategies I had developed. After more studying and experimenting, I suddenly began to figure out how to win.
It was a big breakthrough for me. I had worked out how to beat loose games, and I now understood how to beat tight ones. It would have been nice to have had help, but overall I believe that learning by losing and slowly progressing helps any player improve his game. That is why I recommend that people start small and work their way up, even if they can afford to play the bigger games right away. The lessons learned from playing through contrasting games and styles provide substantial support when, say, a tight game suddenly becomes loose. I also suspect that this growing process is one of the reasons I am reasonably comfortable in shorthanded games today.
Along the way, I also got my wife, the beautiful and talented Betty (BLT), to take an interest in my poker hobby. She took to it as well, and became a terrific player. She worked for several years as a proposition player at the casino where I played (which certainly made it easier to see each other), and has had success in local tournaments in San Jose as well as in Las Vegas.
Turning Pro
Eventually, I moved up to $20-$40, where I was also successful. I maintained my day job in a large computer company for several years, playing some evenings and weekends, dreaming of playing professionally. I kept very accurate records for several years, and convinced myself that I could support us, if need be, on the proceeds from poker. For others who are thinking of playing poker professionally, I recommend several years' of play and data to make sure it is not only profitable, but also a labor of love.
I also went through some health issues, which convinced me that health insurance (which is not easy for poker pros to come by, as I understand it) was critically important to me. My big chance came when an even larger computer company bought out the one where I worked, and offered longtime employees early retirement and some guarantee of continuing health benefits. Betty and I took them up on it and moved to Las Vegas, where I set out to try my luck (or, hopefully, skill) in the poker world.
I joined the Wednesday Poker Discussion Group in Las Vegas, about which much has been written in Card Player. I have made great friends and contacts among the wonderful people in the group, and they have strongly encouraged my career, including suggesting I do things such as write a Card Player column.
So far, so good. Professional poker has certainly been a roller coaster ride, with some good streaks and a few incredibly bad ones. Poker is evolving rapidly, and I am trying to evolve along with it. I really strive to improve my play every week, although I must admit that the bad streaks give me far more opportunity to do so than the good ones. When things are good, I congratulate myself too readily, but when they go bad, I sit back and ponder how to shore up the dikes and plug the leaks.
I continue to play regularly, mostly in live cash games in which a good pro can win 60 percent to 70 percent of the time. I am trying hard to change with the times, and I now play frequently online, as well. In fact, I have written about online tournaments, and will continue to do so. I know I am very lucky to be able to do something I really enjoy day in and day out. And now that you know a little more about how I got here, I promise that next month we will get back to poker strategy.
Everyone knows that poker has exploded, and can attribute it to various people and events, but let's examine how it really happened, and in my next column, I'll examine if it will last.
Malcolm Gladwell's book The Tipping Point (Little, Brown, 2000) examines why social epidemics take off. In determining how poker tipped, I think you have to go back to the famed match between Johnny Moss and Nick the Greek in 1951 in Las Vegas. After all, it was Benny Binion's vision to turn poker into a spectator event that led to his creation of the World Series of Poker in 1970. Moreover, while Amarillo Slim was the front man, it was Benny's idea to turn Slim into a touring ambassador for poker. When Slim first appeared on The Tonight Show in the early '70s, poker was on its way to gaining respectability.
But even with Slim's notoriety in the '70s, poker's growth was relatively stagnant in the '90s. When Brad Daugherty won the main event of the WSOP in 1991, first-place prize money was $1 million. When Noel Furlong won it eight years later in 1999, first prize was still $1 million. It wasn't until the new millennium that the prize pool increased, as Chris Ferguson won $1.5 million in 2000 and Chris Moneymaker won $2.5 million in 2003. And, incidentally, if anyone wants to bet the under on 1,400 participants in the 2004 WSOP, you can call me — collect.
You have to look at Corky McQuorcodale bringing Texas holdem to Vegas in 1963 as a key moment. While McQuorcodale didn't invent the game, think about watching five-card stud on TV before underestimating just how important hold'em has been to the emergence of poker. Hold'em, of course, was the game of choice in Rounders, the 1998 film starring Matt Damon and Edward Norton. The next big moment for poker came in December 2000, when Jim McManus, a journalist who made it to the final table at the WSOP in 2000, wrote about his experience in the largest feature story ever to run in Harper's magazine. And while many people will point to his book Positively Fifth Street hitting the New York Times bestseller list in April 2003, I think the Harper's column was a much bigger moment. Because McManus' story ran in a "literary" magazine, it legitimized poker and effectively gave the country at large permission to play poker. In April 2002, Andy Bellin's Poker Nation was reviewed in the New York Times and the New Yorker, and Bellin appeared on National Public Radio. Again, this was telling the upper crust of society that poker wasn't just for outlaws.
Beyond looking at events, the three other factors that enabled poker to take off were legislation, the Internet, and television — in that chronological order. In 1990, former California Assemblyman Richard Floyd introduced the law that legalized all forms of poker in California, leading to a boom of poker in the Golden State. Don't forget, Foxwoods didn't open until 1992, and it wasn't until 1993 that you could play poker in Atlantic City. Prior to 1993, beyond Nevada and California and a few smaller states in the West, there simply weren't that many places to find a legal game. So, while poker on television created interest in poker, it was the legislation in the early '90s that gave people an opportunity to have a place to play.
As for the Internet, online poker has brought thousands of players to the game, and the creation of PlanetPoker by Randy Blumer on Jan. 1, 1998, has led to a multimillion-dollar industry. You also can't underestimate the impact of all the content on the Internet that makes the game so accessible. The genesis of RGP in 1995 gave poker players an online community to discuss strategy and issues related to poker.
As for poker on television, it really began in the mid-'90s when Late Night Poker became a hit in the UK, using under-the-table cameras that allowed viewers to see the holecards. The final of the first series attracted an audience of 1.3 million despite being broadcast after midnight. The World Poker Tour's debut combined with ESPN's expanded programming in 2003 improved on the technology with lipstick cameras that also revealed holecards. And, of course, the game's popularity has never been greater.
A big part of the WPT's marketing message is that anyone can win. When Robert Varkonyi, an amateur, won $2 million in the 2002 WSOP, it sent a message to existing poker players that anyone can win. When tournament novice Chris Moneymaker parlayed $40 into $2.5 million, it sent a message to the entire world that anyone can win. Tip, tip, tip, tip, tip.
Poker is running hot right now, and only time will tell if it will continue. Check out my next column to see if poker's future can be compared more accurately to the plight of the cigar or the game of golf. Until then, thank Binion, Floyd, McManus, Moneymaker, and company for providing you with a venue to play and live ones to fleece.
Writer's note: Many thanks to Roy Cooke, whose "Hall of Fame" column facilitated my research. Like his poker play, Roy's columns remain amazingly consistent and his great perspective on poker and life has been a boon to the game.
How many times has this happened to you? You're going along great guns in a tournament when you feel a tap on your shoulder. "Table change," your friendly floorman tells you. And it happens just when you were doing so well; you knew your opponents, you were getting decent cards, and you were winning some pots. Table changes seem to affect the fortunes of tournament players in one of two ways: They go on a rush and amass a mountain of chips, or they face the type of disaster that happened to Shaun, who e-mailed me his story along with an astute analysis of the situation.
This time, I'm writing my appraisal of his comments before you read his account of what happened. First, he analyzed the hand very well, and he played it accordingly. His play and his thinking were correct; he just got unlucky. With this in mind, follow along as Shaun thinks his way through a tough tournament scenario.
"Let me begin by saying that I appreciate all of your writings and look forward to reading your Card Player columns each month, Tom. I think it's great that you answer the questions of fellow players, and I hope you can help me with mine. I haven't found much information about how you should play immediately after switching tables. I met my untimely exit in the last no-limit hold'em tourney I played immediately after a table change. Here's what happened:
"We were at the second level with $15-$30 blinds. The average chip count at this point was $1,400, and I had about $1,000. I limped in from middle position with K-Q offsuit, the small blind (with $500 in chips) made a minimum raise, and the big blind (with $2,500 in chips) called. I also called.
"The flop came K-7-3 rainbow. The small blind bet out $30, and the big blind raised to $500! Now, I had to make my decision. My gut instinct told me he was trying to buy the pot, since his bet put the small blind all in. I thought a call was weak here, because if I had the big blind beat, but not the small blind, calling would not win me anything but a side pot. Also, I knew that if I flat-called, I wouldn't be getting any cards to make my hand much stronger unless a queen fell. So, in my mind, I was left with only two alternatives: raise or fold.
"With a 7 and a 3 on the board, I thought he could have made a set, but that would be a very strong hand with this board, and I thought his bet was too high for that. So, he could have made two pair, or kings with an ace kicker, or kings with a lower kicker. Once again, I eliminated two pair because of how much he bet. If the big blind had been raising with a hand like A-K, he easily could have flat-called and gotten all of the small blind's chips on a later betting round. I figured the big blind would have reraised preflop with A-K, so the only hand I thought he could have was a king with a smaller kicker. Therefore, I put him on either K-10 or K-J. Since I figured I had the best kicker with my K-Q, I decided to reraise all in.
"The small blind folded and we turned our cards over. Sure enough, it was my K-Q versus the big blind's K-J. The next card off the deck was a jack, and I was eliminated.
"In hindsight, I realized I had been basing my thoughts on how a typical player would play, but since I had just switched tables, I really had no idea of how this person would react. I thought that perhaps I had overplayed my hand, and should have just folded. I wasn't mad that he caught the jack (OK, maybe I was a little bit angry), because I know that luck is a part of every tournament. I was mad because I thought that even though my analysis had been correct, perhaps at this point in the tourney, not knowing my opponent, I should have just folded and kept my $1,000 for a better spot."
In Shaun's scenario, I would gladly put my money in against a player who I figured had only three outs. If Shaun continues to think these situations through like he did this one and makes the right decisions, he will prosper in the end. And I thank Shaun for his advance writing of my closing line, so that I didn't have to think of one myself: "Tom, with your advice, maybe one day after our tables are switched, we'll meet in the winner's circle!"
How many times have you been sitting in a Texas hold'em game, minding your own business, when suddenly there's a very contagious outbreak of "calling-itis" before the flop? Before you know it, everyone's calling the bet and maybe a raise or two or three before the flop! Not only that, they get you to go along for the ride by announcing, "Let's make it a family pot!" You almost feel obligated, and all of a sudden you've been initiated into your own little poker family! OK, "Let's make it a family pot" means we're all going to play nicely together like one big family, and put all of our money in the pot and make it a lottery game, right? Wrong!
What just happened? Why did you call all of those bets with a playable yet mediocre hand? Did you go temporarily insane? Maybe, maybe not. Let's go with the best-case situation, in which everyone in a 10-handed game stays in preflop. With nine other players in the hand against you, they're paying you 9-to-1 odds to stay in. In other words, if you end up winning, they're offering to pay you $9 in winnings for every $1 you bet at this point. That's called 9-to-1 "pot odds" — a big-sounding phrase with a small meaning. Why should you care about "pot odds"? You're there just to have fun and maybe get a little lucky, right? Wrong!
If you're playing a hand that has 7-to-1 odds against winning, you'll lose seven times for every one time you win. That is great when they're paying you 9-to-1 odds and you win that one time. So, what's the problem? The problem is that it's very painful to lose those seven times. But you have to remember that if you play those situations enough times, you'll come out ahead in the long run.
All of those great guidelines you got from your expert poker buddy, and all of those playing strategies you memorized from that great poker book, work pretty well. But where did all of those guidelines and strategies come from? You guessed it — they're fundamentally derived from pot odds. In fact, the essence of the mathematical component of poker is pot odds. I would go so far as to say that pot odds are at work from the moment you're getting excited about joining a game through every wager you place in that game. OK, before you drag me away to the funny farm screaming "Pot odds! Pot odds! Pot odds!" I've got some explaining to do.
If you bet $1 against Joe Schmo's $1 on a series of coin flips, that's an even-money bet, and on average you'll break even. But if Joe offers to bet $2 against your $1 on a series of coin flips, you'll come out ahead. The more coin flips you play, the more of Joe's money you'll get. Why shouldn't this principle apply to any wager you make, including all of your poker bets? Well, in fact, if you follow some sensible guidelines, it will. You're playing hands that have good odds of winning some money based on the odds the other players are offering you, which is called pot odds. From the mathematical piece of the poker puzzle, every single bet you make should be justified by an adequate potential payback if you win. In other words, how much money can you win for the chance you're taking with your hand? Are the pot odds big enough? In poker, it's oftentimes not easy to answer this question, because you don't know exactly what your opponents are holding.
If I see a game with lots of action and an above-average number of players participating in many of the hands, I get excited to join it, because those players are building pots and creating pot odds that will give me the excuse to play more hands and have more fun.
On a recent business trip to Atlantic City, I decided to pop into the Borgata poker room for a couple of hours. I took the first available seat, which happened to be in a "family-oriented" $6-$12 hold'em game, if you know what I mean. Yes, a couple of times I did say, "Let's make it a family pot" as I tossed my money in. It was my kind of fun action game, in which I could play lots of hands because we were building nice pots, giving many of us the pot odds to play around with more hands. About halfway through my session, I looked down to see a couple of aces, and raised. Eventually, the betting was capped, with nine out of 10 players staying in the hand. I wasn't very happy about my little poker family calling all of those raises, because you know what happens to aces in ninehanded pots. All too often, they get cracked! But, I got very lucky and flopped a set that turned into a full house on the turn. I ended up winning a $300 pot. Now, that's my kind of family pot! See you at the family reunion.
