Bill Parcells

Why don't most people understand that the conventional notion of pot odds doesn't apply to freeze-out tournament play? The point is that in a tournament, you're dead if you lose all your chips, while you're always alive in cash. Following pot-odds rules in tournaments means significantly fewer final tables.

Most people call the NFL post-season the "playoffs". But Bill Parcells always called it the "tournament", and I heard Tony Romo call it the "tournament" in an interview yesterday. My respect for Romo has risen from about a 5 to a 8 because of that.

It's good to recognize what a tournament really is -- regardless what others call it -- and in spite of the rules and jargon associated with it.

Poker rule #11

In a cash game with any stakes, when you have an open-ended straight flush draw after the flop, and you don't think any of the remaining players flopped a flush, it's always okay to go all-in.

GAMBLING

You know why men gamble?
Fear of the loss of love.

THE STRAY PUPPY TEST

Yesterday, the topic came up about how much one should buy in for in a no-limit cash game, and while everyone knows that the answer varies from person to person -- I think it's important to know your optimum buy-in amount -- and that it's one of the most important parts of the game. Some people latch onto the idea of creating a poker bankroll and participate in games that require an initial buy-in of 5% to 10% of that bankroll.

It works for some people, but I'm not that much of a numbers person -- so I've come up with a good way to figure out your optimum buy-in amount based on feelings and attitudes. (Note: This test doesn't apply for people who don't like puppies. If you happen not to like puppies, then go with the bankroll percentage idea).

Imagine how bad you feel seeing a stray puppy get hit by a car, and imagine how bad you feel loosing your whole buy-in on the first hand. I believe that these two feelings should be equally intense, and that you should set your no-limit buy-in amount accordingly.

If the puppy tragedy makes you feel worse than loosing your entire stack on the first hand, then you're not buying in for enough. On the other hand, if you feel worse about losing your stack, then I suspect you're over-extended -- and I'd recommend lower stakes games.

My puppy number is about $100. If you're puppy number is less than about $50 or $60, then it's not a good idea to play no-limit hold'em with players you don't know. If your puppy number is above $400 or $500, then I hope you're not playing with me.

LEAVING LAS VEGAS

So I lost $120 Wednesday night when I called someone's all in preflop with my suited A-8 in a 2-4 no-limit game -- he barely had me covered. I stuck around a while for scouting and conversation -- then I drove away. When I was driving away, some guy outside having a smoke called my car unstylish.
"Unstylish" was the word.
That was low. But stylishly low. After thinking about it, it's hard for me to imagine a sharper insult. Then I started wondering about the notion of stylishness -- as it applies to leaving poker -- and the hierarchy involved. Here are nine ways to leave poker -- in ascending order of style:
WALKING
And probably walking home early. Making an appearance at poker without mechanized transportation away from it -- that's only stylish for whores, transients, and the Divine.
HORSE
You should never fear a man who leaves a poker game on horseback. Prima facie, it seems stylish, but unless the game is held in a roadless wilderness, he's likely just a poser.
TASTELESS SPORTS-COUPE
No explaining needed.
4-DOOR ECONO CAR
That's how I usually leave. Nothing special, but good enough for me.
TASTEFUL SPORTS-COUPE
Kaufman-aggressive is my chosen style, as I've said before, and I've only met one other guy who plays a more refined Kaufman-aggressive game than I do. I took a few bucks from him in a limit game, but when he left in a shiny black Miata convertible, it felt like he was the one who went out ahead.
SEDAN (mercury, buick, etc.)
He folds his A-8. His style is superior to that of any sports-coupe driver, and if you have to wonder why, then you probably aren't reading this.
HORSE-DRAWN CARRIAGE
It's natural to wonder why this method is more stylish than leaving on horseback. It's because there are several horses involved, and a waiting coachman. Ironically, I think the stylishness would increase if the horses and reigns were different colors -- horses and reigns off-suit -- it's tough to explain why.
RAT-DRAWN CARRIAGE
When a rat-drawn carriage pulls up to transport your opponent away from the poker room, it's a good bet that he's taken most of your money. And since being animal-friendly is stylish in contemporary culture, burdening beasts of burden and horse-drawn carriages are a bit gauche -- especially considering the increased awareness of horse abuse after the Eight Bells death. We wouldn't cry if mice die.
TAXICAB
This is the most stylish way to leave poker. Stu Ungar did it always. Leaving a poker room in a cab shows planning. More importantly, it shows that he has left with money -- and with the luxury of not having to drive. No combination of stylishness is more potent than planning, money, and luxury. Leaving by taxi still maintains the mysterious air of one who leaves by rat-drawn carriage -- but with added understatement and subtlety.

BUSINESS

Smart business...slowing the gas at about 40 cents before the cut off...even better is automatically stopping it then... The consumer should pay attention. I wonder how many people don't.
Bad business... Last night I was caught off-guard and I needed running tens to beat a set of queens.
Lucky business...Well, I got them. It was great.
"It looks like magic, but it's just an illusion. I used to play for the Globetrotters, so I have practice. It's not about the money," I lied.
"Globetrotters? That's strange -- you don't seem like a New Yorker."
Sad business... So, her owner and trainer were sad about Eight Belles breaking her bones and being euthanized after finishing second in the Kentucky derby. I wonder how much sadder they'd be if the horse went to the ground a few seconds earlier -- without finishing in the money. Much sadder, probably. So, that was at least a little about the money.

THE WORLDWIDE LEADER IN ART

"Don't you ever watch anything but sports," I was asked by a player who shows up to my game all the time.
I don't like sitcoms -- I can't stand reality TV and voting people off things. I don't watch the news. I watch ESPN, only. At one point I had a physical addiction to Mike & Mike, First Take, and the daytime lineup. And I get all my news from Sportscenter.
A while back, some Sportscenter analyst said it was ridiculous for the ballpark not to sell out the game when griffey was at 599 homeruns. But he's the one who's ridiculous. Why would anyone take a family to a major league baseball game? What would be the point -- its just a waste of hundreds of dollars. It's more fun to go to a minor league game -- more cost effective, too. He's completely out of touch. And if I did, for some reason, pay a lot to watch a major league game, I doubt it would be the Cincinnati Reds.
So I haven't looked at that analyst the same way since. I follow sports news developments the way old housewives follow soap operas. The sportscasters are just part of the cast of characters.
Big Brown didn't win the triple crown, and that same analyst said that America needed a triple crown winner in this time of economic and social strife, so that the country could come together and rally around something. That's -- there's nothing I can add to that. Whatever.
So there's a lot that I love to hate about the shows -- and I love to hate certain TV personalities. But the real reason I like to watch sports is the purity and honesty of the content -- and the tightness of the paradigm. There's something profoundly wholesome about sitting through an Ultimate Fighting event. Nothing happens that I don't understand. The framework is all there, and that makes all sporting events good art, because framework is the most important part of art.
I'm not really a sports nut. I'm an art lover. So when I watch ESPN Classic, I'm an art historian, which is one of the most fulfilling things to do in life that doesn't involve jazz piano or the military.
That player needs to concentrate more on the cards and less on what I watch on TV. So do I.

POKER HAIKU #15

Sam came to our game --
But then he moved to Quebec --
Poker without Sam.

PROPAGANDA

It was my goal never post a hand analysis -- that my poker blog would be above that sort of thing -- but I've decided to do that now.
It was the final stages of a $40 buy-in freeze-out -- four players left with one out of the money. I'm big blind and I pick-up A-J off, I had a feeling that if I moved all in, the guy who made the baby bump would fold and the big stack woman who just called would call my all-in with a lesser hand.
"You don't believe in the moon landing, do you?"
"What?"
"You know that the moon mission and the whole latter stages of the Apollo program were just theater and propaganda -- meant to inspire patriotism in a time of intense political tension."
"Are you serious," she asked.
Of course I wasn't serious. That statement ranks very low on the list of things I'm ever likely to say with sincerity. It's way down below statements like "That darn genie only gave me two wishes," and "Fire torpedo number nine, Your Holiness."
"Yes, I'm serious. You need to save yourself some chips. I'm all-in."
I was right. He folded and she called with As-9s. She caught her 9 on the turn, and I finished -- yet again -- on the bubble.

BASTROPOLIS

The 2008 Bastrop invitational HOSE, and I lost -- bubble boy from that. Time to get groceries.
The sign for the HEB express lane read sign read "15 items or fewer." I stepped up to the checkout -- just managing to scoot in front of an approaching shopper and her assistance animal.
"I want to commend the store on y'alls grammar," I said to the cashier. "Most signs would say 'less'. But it's not as proper. Fewer is a better term."
The cashier just looked at me -- showing the level of interest one would get by listening to a dog show radio broadcast.
"I think this spinach is on special. Let me check."

IT'S 6 PM AND I'M NOT FAMOUS YET.

My poker has been stunning this afternoon -- I wish it were televised. Everything I do is working, and I'm so in-the-zone that I could probably start laying down smack in Esperanto without even knowing the language.
Another miraculous play with mediocre starting cards, and the guy across the table asks me if I think I'm famous.
Well, no I don't. At least not now. Not yet. And then I started to think about what it takes to achieve fame -- at what point could I wake up in the morning, shave, have tea, and otherwise prepare for another day of what passes for civilization, and while straightening my tie in the mirror say to myself, "Self, I'm famous!" what could justify that? Certainly not winning a few bucks in pot-limit Omaha.
Here are there ways to become famous, in no particular order:
1.Start a clothing line.
2.Buy a clothing line already established by someone else, renaming it.
3.Attack someone else's clothing line to the point of giving regularly scheduled press conferences about the drawbacks of it -- every Tuesday at 5:30, for example -- and after each event, burning or somehow dramatically destroying a different product from that targeted clothing line -- consistency and parallelism are important and often overlooked by people seeking fame this way -- so if the speech to the press is about the ugliness of a belt, understand that it would be out of place to torch a sweater.

RULES

Picture a typical poker tournament in a typical home game. People are trying to make money -- gentleman and degenerates alike. Birds are chirping outside, though you can't hear them -- whatever. The only certain thing is that everyone there would appreciate as much fun as possible.
Some tournaments have a rule the when a new player switching tables decides to sit in the big blind position, they must post the big blind and play the hand. In other tournaments, the player coming in has the option of sitting out two hands before he plays -- just like in most sensible cash games.
In this particular tourney, the incoming player was required to post, but she didn't know about the rule, and she decided to sit out. The host demanded a big blind from her -- it's the rule, he said. Then she said she wanted to sit out and he told her to post or leave. Nobody was happy, and the fact is that with a $200 tournament purse nobody should care if she sat out or not.
Cambridge University has a lot of archaic rules that have been on the books for hundreds and hundreds of years -- that haven't been removed, enforced, or given much attention of any kind since the Renaissance. One of those old rules is that a student must be served a full meal during an exam, on request. Back in the 80s, an unprepared student refused to take his exam because his professor refused to serve a full meal.
The administration became upset, and the student was expelled for not carrying his sword.

UTILITY

In the past few minutes, my right-hand opponent has given this 1-2 no-limit table hundreds of dollars worth of uncalled pre-flop action with neither paint nor a pair. It is truly sad. He doesn't forsee the impending loss, he doesn't understand postering strategy, he doesn't sense the chip-lusting salivation and naked furiosity of the rabid badger on his left, and I doubt he can afford to be here in the first place. There goes in another $50 pre-flop -- take it down.
In the summer of 2000, I spent about three months on self-directed motorcycle/camping tour of Central and Eastern Europe -- at that time, you could do that comfortably on $20 a day -- and less than that if you were careful. I bought the bike for something like $550 in May and sold it for exactly the same in September. I went through the whole summer spending south of $2400, including airfare, and it could easily have been less. The dollar was my friend, and it worked. I couldn't depend on the maps, or the roads, or even the hour-by-hour availability of electricity -- but I sure could depend on the dollar -- and the fact that my money went so far gave me a newfound respect for its value.
The player on my right needs to learn that lesson. He'll live better.

POKER HAIKU #14

Tight, dark turtlenecks --
Cards with neither suits nor ranks --
Existential tilt.

OMEGA-3

It's break time on the patio outside the glorious Third Base single-session freeroll.
"what did you have last hand?"
"j-10 of diamonds."
"I would have beat you."
People beside us are playing horseshoes. They're serious horseshoes -- heavy and a little rusty -- the idea that they served as actual horse footwear many, many years back is beyond a reasonable doubt.
Ringer! Ding! One spins around the stake briefly, like an incomplete, unmotivated hula-hoop, and I just can't complete the following analogy...
archer : archery :: __?__ : horseshoes.
They're throwing too close to our table. We can hear the swoosh as the forged iron flies past our ears. But the players are non-violent and accurate, so I don't believe we're in danger.
And she shouldn't believe I had the diamond J-10. She was close, but close doesn't count in poker.

RISK ASSESSMENT IS AN ACTIVE PASSTIME

So, it's two-way action in 1-2 no-limit with the rainbow flop of A-A-5 coming down and I check my A-3 -- leaving the bet to a woman who leads out with $25 -- a player who hasn't led out the betting since the early 90s -- it seems like. I fold and she flips over her A-K for the world to see.

Some people charged with murder are granted bail. Some do jump bail, but don't you wonder why more of them don't? Don't they understand that a trial is more of a risk -- that it's probably in their better interest to flee rather than face the court? Maybe the number of people who take the Social Contract seriously is greater than I suspect -- or I could be underestimating the prevalence of the blind complacency of all those folks who choose to submit to a trial.

DISCRETION IS THE BETTER PART OF POKER

Making a call because you think someone is challenging you -- well, they might be, but you don't have to stand up to all challenges. You can cower. It's okay. You're here because some prehistoric ancestor decided to cower rather than fight something. It's never good to make a call just because you they think you're being challenged and want to save face or preserve manhood.

I usually just throw the hand down, tell myself that I'm still a good person and that my friends and family still love me. I'm just not as obsessed as some people are with the notion of respect.

TALENT

It was heads-up. Two cards in my hand -- and when the flop came down, eight or nine people in the crowd yelled out eight or nine different suggestions.

When most toddlers encounter a piano, they start banging on the piano keys. But when Glenn Gould was a kid, he had a habit of striking one key hard with one finger -- holding it there for a long, long time -- listening to the tune of that one note -- holding his finger steady -- until the sound completely died away.

CATS, CONDIMENTS, AND WARREN BUFFETT

I've decided that I must be going to one of the most unique HORSE home games in the world.
All the regulars there know how to play good poker -- and they're stimulating and interesting people. It's stunning how many poker players are too intensely into the game for me -- a lot of them are either way too loudly mathematical about the details -- or worse -- keep spouting bad math about the details of the game -- or really into yelling an interrogation of why I called or raised or breathed with my J-3 -- when the simple answer is that I just felt like it at the time -- that my goal is to play the most unpredictable poker in the world -- I've quit explaining things rationally to them. I've started giving the excuse "well it was suited" or other nonsense. Rationality and the logocentric mentality are the most overrated part of the whole poker experience, and I really want to unsubscribe from all the poker blogs where writers go on for three or four pages about exactly -- precisely -- how great they played K-9 against someone's A-10 -- of course, I keep reading that stuff -- I have to keep abreast -- I have a professional obligation to read all that crap -- I want to know how these people are thinking, since that's what they're so go at.

Anyway, those people don't frequent my HORSE game. I am among friends.
I wasn't being glib about people overthinking poker. All you need to know about poker is what warren buffett said is all you need to know about investing: "Be greedy when others are cautious. Be cautious when others are greedy. Have fun, and don't think too much."
So while I'm sitting out of this game, laying on a comfortable beanbag, $145 to the good, drinking High Life, watching the host's wife painting her pet kitty's claws with bright red nailpolish, I know in my heart that Buffett was right -- poker should be fun more than anything else -- and the main thought I have now is that cats are tasty with mustard.

On my way home the other night I was cut off by a pick-up with a cage full of rabbits in the bed.
Rabbits!
The road rage possibilities were endless.

What to do?

THE TIME HAS COME, THE WALRUS SAID

Tonight at a free tourney I had some wicked bad luck.
I remember reading somewhere that one day in 1931 -- I think it was -- a Monte Carlo roulette wheel hit black 32 times straight. The odds against that are 2^32, and that's more than one in a billion -- so I don't guess I should feel that bad -- and that wheel has been spinning almost continuously for something like 300 years, so it was certain to happen sooner or later --and it really was. In fact, given a large enough sample size, you can name any sequence of red-black outcomes and be certain to find it somewhere within it. Just like you can name any sequence of random numbers -- however long you'd like -- and be certain that it appears somewhere in the decimal expansion of pi.
And the canonical example of this concept is that if you let a bunch of chimps type randomly for long enough, they're certain to come up with the complete works of todaysmilk.
The key word in all this is "certain".
So now, I suppose I've been playing hold'em poker long enough that it's my turn to flop top pair six straight times and lose each hand. It's certainly frustrating.

POKER HAIKU #13

I'll wear sunglasses--
Whenever I play poker
In the bright sunshine.

MARKET FORCES

What a commercial for pokerstars! Its amazing. What's going on? Everyone I know already plays, almost without exception, everyone. The sort of hands they set up to drag people to their site--who are they targeting? How many people do they hope to snag with that rotten mental bait?
I tell you that marketing works. Just look at the phrases "life insurance" and "health insurance". Nobody can insure your life or health. They can insure your car or house, but it sort of stops there. So what is life insurance, really--since it doesn't really insure anything?
Whatever it is, it shares its main component with poker. Risk assessment. But poker is more honest.

SHE HAD...

She had kings and I had jacks.
You know, I really have faith in humanity. I just walked outside and looked up and realized that even a thousand years ago people had all these complex star charts and planet charts that scientists today are still trying to figure out.
Poker is full of pain. And the sky is full of wonder.

POKER HAIKU #12

Like Juice Newton says--
Playing with the queen of hearts--
Isn't really smart.

Remember . . .

Remember in Silence of the Lambs when jodie foster was walking down the prison corridor, passing by the cells of markedly crazy people who were shouting, drooling, growling, and she finally gets to the end of the corridor -- and stands in front of the cell of the worst one of them all -- the most violent and deranged criminal in the world. So far the whole movie had been building up to this moment when we finally get to see what Hannibal Lecter is like. And what do we get? A normal looking man standing straight up with a pleasant face who looks her in the eyes and says with a soft voice, "good morning".

A-9

So you usually beat me, but tonight was different. Your A-9 just didn't hold up. Don't fool around with A-9. Its okay to just leave the table for a little while. Just be quiet when you do. Drama is for an audience at the theater. Poker is for men at the table.
And look, don't tell me you love me unless you mean it -- lips, tongue, vocal chords and brain-- in reverse order. I don't want to be picky-- I just want honesty -- anything else is a waste. I'm smart enough to have standards-- and old enough to have taste. I'm down with love through poker-- I'm just not up for that crap. I have my days and you have your days. So save your love for someone who'll take your money in other ways.
A-9 off... Give me a break.

POKER HAIKU #11

Walking past the clean,
Groomed calico in that yard --
I am no one's pet.

REAL EATERS

Last night someone told me pre--flop that my 5-3 offsuit was no good.
But it was, and I won the hand. I could beat him with a joker and a tarrot card if I had to.
A while back, William the refrigerator Perry was in a competitive eating contest, and he didn't do that well. People who follow the sport openly questioned why he was there -- and said that his presence mocked the event. "He's not a real eater!" one of them shouted.

TABLE PRESENCE

I go to a Saturday night game in Round Rock about once a month. Last time I was there, Jon the Baptist said I didn't have any table presence. That didn't make sense to me, since I am -- in fact -- renowned for my table presence -- it is sincerely legendary -- and my arrival in a poker room can be compared to an appearance of an exotic mythical creature -- kind of like a phoenix -- but with better card sense and a more articulate squawk. Oh well -- I was busy sending email or something, and whatever play I made during that hand was unlikely to make poker history anyway.
So, last night, I showed up at the game in a tuxedo, with an eyepatch and two ferrets -- Snowflake and Max. Max is chill. Snowflake is an albino. She's mean, too, like a good ferret should be, with little hot-pink eyes -- windows to hell.
I played one hand of no limit hold'em, won $37 with a set of jacks, and left -- ferrets, formal wear, and cash in tow.
Sometimes, the most effective display of power at the table is to minimize one's time at it.
By the way, regarding time and power, any good poker player must manage them effectively -- both are so dangerous -- in fact, time and power are talking roots of all evil. You can deduce that by noting that money is the root of all evil, time is money, money talks, and money is power. Thinking further, you can deduce that all evil must have its root in speech. I'll write about that later.

POKER HAIKU #10

My kings -- they were cracked.
This table's dirty red felt
Needs to be replaced.

POKER HAIKU #9

Big stack ecstasy --
All these chips in front of me --
Donkeys on my right.

BILLY AND MARIE

In news concerning things falling apart, centers not holding, and falcons not hearing falconers -- today a woman asked me what I did.
I told her I play poker.
She said no-- that I didn't understand -- what did I do for living?
Marie Antoinette never said let them eat cake -- but if she had said it, she wouldn't have said it out of spite, like a lot of historians lead people to believe. The truth is that when she was told that the people had no bread, she would have made the cake suggestion out of ignorance -- not out of meanness. She was so sheltered and out of touch that she actually believed the people had a choice between bread and cake and maybe other things, and since bread wasn't available, cake might be a viable option. She would have been making an attempt to solve a problem -- trying to be helpful.
And they cut her head off.

POLITICS MEETS POKER

I read that Ron Paul called poker a " microcosm of everything that is good and fair in America".
You know, I wrote myself in for President in 1992.
I did it again in 1996.
I'd risen above voting by 2000.
I wrote myself again again in 2004.
And I just may vote for Ron Paul this year.
Not because of principle--
but in spite of it.

POKER HAIKU #8

Motorcycling --
Through the central Texas night --
Cards without a cause.

POKER HAIKU #7

You're blinking, dear friend.
I see your eyes through your shades.
Chips in jeopardy.

NO LIMIT HOLD'EM

They were men, very serious men. They had lots of chips and yesterday they didn't play a hand for hours, overnight even, they didn’t care. They were serious. They were there for serious poker. Not out of fun, but out of need. The first thing one would do when he arrived was to take out his artificial eye and bounce it off the felt table. Then he would bite off the dealer's ear, spit it out and announce “I am a poker player. I’m here for serious poker.” When the other man sat down for heads-up, they commenced the handshake. The handshake took two hours. They clenched and grinned, trying to see whose handshake was the wyliest. Seeing who would break first -- and how. Once cards were in the air, strategies began. First, the big stack assumed a fetal position, cried and grunted for whiskey, and while the waitress got it, he throw a card-protector through an interior window muttering “nothing personal, you understand it’s poker.” Then he stood up and pissed on the table talking about how bad beats are bleeding him dry. “Damn,” the other replied, staring at 9-5 offsuit, "you're gonna have to lick that up." They maintained civility while opening each other’s shirt and gouging into flesh with broken wine glasses --piercing layers of yellow fat -- the fat that just last month had been in a vinyard. Then while making an important raise with their left hands, they would stab each other’s over-worked liver with their rights, and find that above the liver was the heart. So, they would clench each other’s heart, eyes locked to eye, grin locked to grin, and they would face off. Each maintaining normal, relaxed conversational tone, broken by the occasional spasm from the other's white-knuckled grip -- that tight heartgrip. As of this writing, neither player has folded.

Four hours on the lake yesterday and all I had to show for it is two little fish. So I took out the ten foot leather whip I keep in my tackle box, leaned over the edge of the boat, and gave the lake nine lashes. The lake was only due six or seven lashes, but I was particularly frustrated, so it got nine. Before the ancient Athenians did anything important, they's usually consult the oracle at Delphi. They didn't pray to Zeus like you might expect -- Zeus wasn't a benevolent guiding force for them -- Zeus was selfish. The central texas fishing forecast for tomorrow is better than it was yesterday, but the experience still leaves me wondering how much longer in life I can avoid that Schlitz Malt Liquor Bull -- and at what point my avoidance becomes as respected and noble as a virgin's honor.