What You Don’t Want This Christmas–Bad Advice

One nice thing about poker is this–it keeps you humble. Just when you think you’ve got the game figured out, when you think that, hey, you’re getting pretty doggone good, that’s when the decks grow cold and the bad beats flurry and you set up permanent residence in Tiltville. If you’re the reflective sort these reversals can actually have a positive impact–the unexamined life is not worth living, as they say, and the harsh lessons learned at the poker table can perhaps make you a more patient, determined and, yes, a more humble person.

Then again you come across a lot of blinkered, cocksure folks in poker as well, and I came across one the other day while reading an article in the San Francisco Chronicle. The piece, written by Matt Villano, is titled “In Poker, Go With Your Gut”–hmm, a bit provocative. Good. The article begins thusly:

Just about every poker book ever written will tell you that you should only play the very best hands and that you should always fold when it’s clear your opponents have you beat.

What the books don’t tell you is that sometimes, you also just need to go with your gut.

Ehh, OK.. Yes, sometimes when you play poker you have to break out of established patterns and apply other skills, like bluffing. And what Villano calls “gut” could be that ineffable poker quality called heart, where you must summon the courage to make difficult choices in the face of adversity. Anyway, Villano discusses a hand where there were six limpers (not uncommon in a live game) and he raised with Ace-King. Two players called and the flop came Jd-Qs-3h, a rainbow flop, as Villano says. Now, this ain’t a good flop for Ace-King. You still only have Ace-high, and it’s quite possible that your opponents called with paint or, perhaps, a pocket pair. Then again your opponents limped and so your Ace-high might actually be the best hand. This is a situation that requires some dexterity, some finesse. Instead, here’s how Villano assessed the situation:

I was first to act. Sensing I was one measly card from a straight, I bet out with $25, a wager designed to test the waters and see what my opponents might do.

Uh, what? “One measly card from a straight”? Sure, you have a gutshot draw but there’s only four cards in the deck that give you that straight. It’s something to take into account but you don’t see many people getting giddy about flopping a gutterball draw. Villano makes a $25 continuation bet, which seems small considering the size of the pot, and gets a call and then a $75 raise. Blech. Oh well, Big Slick can be a frustrating hand, but when you miss the flop it isn’t that hard to toss aside in the face of determined opposition.

But Villano, loving that inside straight draw, makes the call. Then the dude who flat-called the first bet, described by Villano as “some guy in a ratty University of Arizona sweatshirt”, shoves for $350. The raiser calls for about $300. So you have a bet, call, raise, call, all-in, all-in call. And Villano is sitting there with no pair. Here’s how he analyzed the hand:

With two all-ins ahead of me, I was pretty much convinced these two guys had flopped three-of-a-kind. This meant I was behind in the hand with only four “outs,” or four cards that would win me the pot (in this case, the four 10s in the deck).

The pot odds weren’t bad (essentially 3-to-1), but statistically, I was a prohibitive underdog. And yet something inside of me didn’t care; I just had a feeling this was going to be a magical hand.

Let me ask you a question–do you believe in magic? Mr. Villano does. The Lovin’ Spoonful did. Unfortunately, I don’t. If I’m dead to a four-outer, if my pot-odds are 3-1, if I’m about 6-1 to win the hand, I fold. Because while I don’t believe in magic, I believe in math. I believe in statistics. I don’t understand them very well, mind you (and I have the report cards to prove it) but I don’t think that I have some sort of ESP or instant karma or pixie dust that allows me to overcome the inexorable march of the Numbers. What Villano is describing isn’t “guts” or “heart”. It’s “crazy”. He’s not making a sick call with fourth pair or putting in the fourth raise with ten-high. He’s calling off his stack drawing to four outs!! I say again–not guts, not heart, KRAY-ZEE.

Here’s how the hand played out–you may want to hold off if you’ve recently eaten:

You can pretty much guess the rest of the story. I called. The turn was a blank, and the river was a 10 of diamonds, enabling me to beat U of A’s set of queens and Bobby’s set of jacks for a fat $911 pot.

Though improbable, the victory actually didn’t surprise me too much. Most of the time, it pays to play by the book. But sometimes, just sometimes, we poker fanatics need to trust our guts.

Methinks Mr. Villano left out some details.

Like, when he rolled over his Ace-King and his opponents revealed sets, the other players said, in effect, “WTF???” How, when the turn came a blank, the player holding the Queens looked sick and put his hands on his head, mumbling “Please, no ten. No, no, no NO!!!! Come on NO TEN!!!!” How the player with Jacks sat there bemoaning his set-under-set fate. And how, when the dealer burned and turned over the ten of diamonds, how the players at the table exploded in paroxysms of disgust, how the player who saw his top set cracked by a gutterball, by a player who called his shove with only a gutterball, slammed his fists on the rail and hurled verbal invective Mr. Villano’s way. Because, heck, that’s how I would reacted. Especially with the smugness he must’ve shown as the pot was pushed his way–after all, Villano said winning the hand “didn’t surprise him much”, when, in fact, it should’ve come as an embarassing shock.

The last line of his story says “But sometimes, just sometimes, we poker fanatics need to trust our guts”. Because I love you people, let me say this–DON’T TRUST YOUR GUTS! TRUST YOUR BRAIN! YOUR BRAIN IS WHERE THE SMART STUFF COMES FROM! YOUR GUTS IS WHERE THE ICKY STUFF COMES OUT OF! Please, please, don’t think that calling off your stack as a 6-1 underdog is something to emulate. Because for every happy hand that Mr. Villano describes, there are five hands where you’re calling for a rebuy–or slinking out of the casino, catcalls chasing you to the door. I’m not saying you have to play strictly by the book–and anyway, there are scores of poker books out there, all with different approaches and advice. Mr. Villano says, “What the books don’t tell you is that sometimes, you also need to go with your gut”. They don’t tell you that BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN’T DO THAT!!!

Don’t place your trust in magic, or your guts. Remember that spongy gray wet thing inside your head, and pay attention to what it has to say.