A PERSONAL STORY: Now and Then

Two events significantly changed poker: UIGEA and Black Friday. When an industry suffers two asteroid impacts, only the strongest survive. Thus, it’s no surprise that the games have got a lot tougher to beat.

Old school pros have been run down by a new breed of internet wizards; ones who have done the work, know the numbers and are hungry to be the best.

Last week I played the PartyPoker Big Game in Vienna. I had the unfortunate challenge of playing with some of those players. Sam Trickett, Phil Laak, JP Kelly, Daniel “Jungleman” Cates and Andy Moseley. It was the toughest line up I’d ever faced and I often felt outclassed. Many times I shook my head or tapped the table and thought, “they’re simply too good.”

While playing in those line ups is tough, one learns a lot about the game and themselves. Here is my view and some advice on what it really takes to make it.

THE PROBLEMS: Ego and Apathy

EGO

This would be an interesting stat: Of those who play poker, what percent of people think they are winning players and how many actually are?

In a study, they found that on a scale of 1 – 10, the average person believes they are a 7 in both driving ability and physical attractiveness. From a survival standpoint, this makes perfect sense.

The reason that we delude ourselves is that it helps us to procreate. The more confident we are the better chance we have of finding a mate. Put simply, our natural inclination to overestimate our ability is embedded into our genes.

A proud ego has its uses. In poker it’s needed for us to recover quickly and remain confident in the midst of a bad streak. It also helps us to play without fear and trust our reads. It also has its dangers. It can blind us to our mistakes and allow us to attribute bad play to variance. It also lets us overestimate our ability and underestimate the competition, resulting in poor game selection and bad judgement at the table.

APATHY

Poker players are notoriously lazy. With nobody to boss us around, it’s easy to let everything slip. The going mindset is: why work when we can play? This mentality is costly, and if we’re not careful, our eating habits, exercise, sleep patterns, and balance will completely derail.

Apathy gets the worst of us when we are losing. It’s too easy to blame misfortune for our troubles and attribute success to skill. We don’t care to improve because we believe we are already “good enough.”

Worse, many of us are stuck in the past. We still remember the game where we could do our brains off at the night club and wake up and print money online. I’ll speak from experience, don’t let going broke be the wake up call.

THE REASON: Misconceptions

For the poker player money and success has always been easy come easy go. We don’t place much value on either, and being broke isn’t such a problem when one big score can put us back on the top. In this mindset, we don’t bother working to improve our game, but idol while waiting for our luck to turn.

The poker player gets his ego fed with a single tournament victory. The media, peers and casual fans praise the victor for his amazing play and heroic effort. He is never hailed, however, when he loses the coin flip that would have got him to the final table.

This biased and sometimes false sense of success can temporarily blind us. When the average pro plays 50 tournaments a year, maybe 10 of which are major ones, that variance can last a lifetime.

While one’s success in tournaments is highly contingent on luck, it’s not cause to worry. One can choose to play deep stacked cash games where the edges are greatest and the long run is realized much faster.

For all one’s skill on the felt, ones success as a professional is disproportionally weighted toward the other areas of his life: bankroll management, game selection, taking breaks, sleep habits, wellness, balance, fear, being mentally able to handle the game and, most importantly. work. In other words, being skilled at poker is not nearly as important as being a skilled poker player.

Lastly, we mustn’t forget the basics of economics: markets are extremely efficient. Whenever there are millions of dollars to be made, there will be people fighting to earn it. Worse, there is likely someone that wants it more than we do. And what’s to stop them from getting there if not us?

THE SOLUTION: Work and Passion

A reporter once saw Tiger Woods hitting golf balls at night in the midst of a thunderstorm. When the man asked him why, he said, “you never know when you’re going to play in the rain.” Roger Federer, before his Championship match at Wimbledon, was spotted watching the woman’s final. The reason is clear, he simply loves tennis.

Many athletes have natural abilities, but there’s a reason these are two of the greatest. They work the hardest. It is foolish to deny the astounding role that luck plays in poker, but more often than not it’s skill, which manifests from a disciplined work ethic that prevails in the long run.

There is a way to work more efficiently without feeling like you’re doing history homework. Passion. When we find something we love to do, the challenge turns from pain to pleasure. It’s the zeal that drives us to make the sacrifices necessary to succeed. It’s the love of the game, not the end result that drives us. (loving to sing vs. becoming rich and famous). Without this passion we cannot reach our best.

We can force ourselves to work by locking the door to our room. We can even hire coaches, study or watch videos. But all the work in the world will only take us so far. When the task becomes difficult we quit. The passion that’s needed to overcome this hurdle is innate and must be natural, genuine. Find that and you’ll never work a day in your life.

After part One, Know When to Hold’Em, this is the conclusion of a series on learning when to quit.

Last week we discussed various options when deciding when to quit and the reasons why we love to pull those marathon sessions. In this blog, it’s more thoughts on knowing when to stop and learning to take control of our game.

3) WHEN TIRED:
I often quit when I’m tired. Since there are varying degrees of lethargy determining when to quit is difficult. If I’m feeling a little lethargic, I’ll usually have a tea or espresso and see how I feel in a half hour. If nothing changes, I take a walk. If that doesn’t work, if the game is nothing special, I’ll quit.
Then there is the other extreme, when it feels like I will miss a wedding to stay in the game. It’s easy to get caught up in the game and forget there is a world outside of of the casino. The delusion is only cured (? – I want something like appeased or relieved) when I remember that no game is irreplaceable.
In the excitement of the game, it’s easy to feel a rush of adrenaline. Thus, I measure my lethargy objectively using the following guidelines.

I am tired if:
1) I’ve played 8 hours or more
2) I’ve been up for 18 hours or more
3) I slept less than 5 hours the night before.

As a general rule, if two out of three apply, I quit.

4) WHEN THE GAME BREAKS:
If the fish leaves and the game is about to break, many will quit. If I just started playing and I’m craving some action, I will seek out another game. If I’ve already logged a decent session, I will take the day off and come back fresh.

Important Note:
I never quit immediately after the fish does. I will always play at least until the end of the dealer, to ensure he is caused out and left the casino. Remember, they are our customers and your job, like the casino, isn’t to earn money, but to create an environment where people can comfortably lose it.

Nobody likes to feel like they are the mark. There’s nothing worse than the fish quitting and three regulars not taking their big blind or after they lose, the players quitting immediately almost mocking his loss. Bad gambler!

THE SOLUTION: Taking Control
The overwhelming reason I always quit a game is if it will ruin my routine. There is nothing that can replace living a healthy and balanced life. Rarely do I think it’s worth pulling a 24 hour session to play in a “can’t miss” game. The reality is, those games are there everyday. Some hobbies are recession proof. Gambling, like alcohol is one of them.

Since we have to sleep sometime, why not just do it when it fits into our schedule? One of the best things about a career in poker is that the freedom it affords. Why let the game dictate when we play?
There are thousands of other reasons I have quit a game. A friend calls and invites me to somewhere I rather be. A more lucrative opportunity arises. I have to be up early the next day.

The other day, I had trouble deciding whether or not to get up when I noticed my friend leaving a lucrative game. I leaned over. “Why are you quitting?” I whispered. He shrugged. “I don’t feel like playing anymore.” It was then the light bulb came on.

The only reason I ever need to quit is I rather be doing something else. ♠

A two part article on knowing when to walk away.  Part Two: “Know When To Fold’em” will be online on Friday, April 13th.

A PERSONAL STORY: Counting Every Moment
The “Economist” just released an article titled Counting Every Moment in which people tabulate various activities in their lives.

Coincidentally, I began doing this last year to keep track of my habits. How many books I read, how many movies I watched, how much alcohol I drank, how many times I worked out, etc.
Aside from learning the facts, what I noticed was the simple act of recording made me more conscious about the activities I do. If I had a drink, I had to mark it down. I couldn’t lie to myself. My iPhone notepad was constantly hovering over me.

The result? The things I wanted to eliminate: drinking alcohol and watching TV, were reduced immensely. Likewise, activities I tried to improve: working out, reading, writing, were done more frequently.

The process is awesome. Whenever I develop a new habit I want to break, playing video games for instance, I just write it down and watch it disappear.

THE PROBLEM: Delusion
For years I had been delusional about many aspects of my life. Now, after just three months, I realized certain things are much more destructive than I thought. For example, this year I’ve already eaten out 57 times. At least I know where my money goes.

In his recent post, Sorel Mizzi talks about the dangers of being a delusional poker player. It’s with much regret that I just applied this strategy to my poker game. “What is my biggest leak?” I wondered.
The answer I found is:
1) I play too many hands
2) I play when I shouldn’t
Now I should know how to fix my bad habits.

THE SOLUTION: Accountability

The reason we let ourselves derail is that nobody is there to hold us accountable. The value in having a personal trainer is that you have someone who forces you to go the gym. Tabulating is my portable trainer.

As discussed in Part 1, poker needs to be rebranded. But dressing well is just the beginning. In order to effectively implement change, we are going to need help from the rest of the world.

The Problem: The Stereotype

1) More on Perception

First impressions are huge. The reason poker players are perceived as degenerate gamblers is we act like it. We show up to televised events and make our statement to the world by saying, “I’m too lazy to shave or dress up.” Just because we can stroll into the Bellagio in sweats doesn’t mean we should. Nowhere else in the Casino do people dress like they are homeless. It’s not professional and it’s not classy.

Behaving in public means treating yourself like a famous athlete, an ambassador for our sport. Kobe Bryant and Roger Federer don’t walk around town acting like children, because it’s bad for their image, sponsors and industry as a whole.

Why are NBA players, some of whom come from the hood, considered respectable? Because when the athletes are doing an interview, injured, even suspended, they show up court side in a suit and tie. And who sponsors them? Legendary companies like Nike, Coca-Cola and American Express.
Who sponsors us, a Beef Jerky brand? Why isn’t Phil Ivey holding a Redbull container and saying “I drink this to help me focus?”

2) The Media

The media in poker is ruining poker’s reputation. Sadly, most outlets believe that people care more about failure than success, but this is the very gossip that portrays poker in a negative light. Reading that someone is broke and in debt makes for much better conversation than Phil Galfond winning another $1,000,000.

Disclaimer: The only reason I’m qualified to speak on these issues is I’ve made every mistake listed here. Please, don’t remind me. I continue to make them and if you catch one, I hope you’ll remind me.

A PERSONAL STORY: The College Dropout
I was 18 when I broke the news to my parents. “I’m dropping out of SMU to play poker.” Needless to say, they weren’t thrilled. In my defense, I tried to explain that it wasn’t gambling, but calculated risk. I was no different than the stock trader.
It was a hard sell. “Stock traders have degrees” they reminded me. The problem, it seemed was the barriers to entry. To get to Wall Street, you need to go through the system. To gamble all you need is cash. Fail on Wall Street and you still get a modest salary, fail in poker and you can wind up in debt.
All things considered, one can’t blame them. They had nothing that convinced them otherwise.

Poker was just beginning to emerge in the media, but what they did see wasn’t exactly flattering: overweight gamblers dressed like bums cursing obscenities at their misfortune.
Overcoming these hurdles is an uphill battle, but it doesn’t have to be. We brought the burden upon ourselves.

THE PROBLEM: The Public’s Perception
The problem isn’t that the majority of those who try fail. I didn’t succeed in my childhood dream of making the NBA, yet my parents encouraged me to play basketball, because in doing so I learned the merits of teamwork, discipline, patience and perseverance.

There are virtues to be learned from poker. It’s time we showcase them, but first, an exercise. After each word close your eyes and imagine what you see.

Stock Trader:
I suppose it’s something like this: A 24 year old, ivy league graduate (I always envision Harvard), freshly shaven, clean cut, black suit with a red tie, carrying a briefcase with something important inside.

He’s almost definitely talking on the phone with a client during his lunch break, where he has delivery Chinese food from his office on Wall Street.

Let’s try one more.

Poker Player:
Here’s what comes to mind. A 24 year old college dropout struggles to stay awake after an all night poker session. With no attachment to the real world, he strolls through the otherwise elegant Bellagio in sweats and a hoodie, unshaven and scruffy.

What’s really the difference? More specifically, why, when their jobs are close relatives, is the stock trader a respected businessman when the poker player is a degenerate gambler?

Sure, the formers Harvard education doesn’t hurt, but when was the last time someone ask where you graduated? The difference between “us” and “them” begins with that image we create. The trouble is that the parent says, “no to gambling” and “yes to Wall Street.” In order to change the status quo, poker needs to be rebranded.

The Green Tea Example
In spring 2000, Twinings stated: “In response to a huge surge of consumer interest and demand, and after many months of extensive product development, we are pleased to announce the launch of a contemporary new range of green teas.”
So why the crazy for green tea? Lipton says that it is due to “worldwide consumer trends in health and stress awareness, and the desire for a more balanced lifestyle.”

Further, Whittard of Chelsea, who offer six varieties of green teas, tells customers that “green tea is the most natural of all teas, and still contains many of the natural ‘compounds’ which make tea such a healthy drink.”

Green tea has been drank for thousands of years by the Orient. But only when it was marketed as an appetite suppressant and weight loss solution did it boom in America. The problem isn’t the game, but how it’s viewed by the public.

THE SOLUTION: It Starts With Us

1) At the Table
The professional sets the precedent for the rest of the world. I love playing tennis and when I want to feel like a rock star on the court, I deck myself out in all Nike, with head and wrist bands. The game is as much about the look as playing. Thus when we show up in sweats, others think it’s okay, even aspirational.

Outfit:
“You can tell just by looking at him,” was a quote from the poker table just two days ago. It was said of a VIP who walked in to play the big game. If we did the same exercise as above and envisioned a “poker fish” it would look drastically different than the poker pro. This is the problem.

Remember, our job is to create a suitable environment for our customers.

When was the last time the mega fish in the game was wearing a jersey and backwards hat? People don’t mind playing with professionals, they just don’t want to feel like you are there to take their money.

Not only is dressing nice a step to legitimizing our industry, but it will make others want to play with you. You’re no longer the bum hunting pro, you’re a rich kid who’s ready to gamble. And there’s a huge difference.

I will lead by example and here’s my pledge to you. If anyone sees me dressed below business casual for over 1 hour (sometimes, it’s inexcusable, when I stumble upon a game. Still, I will home to change after taking my seat), I will pay them a big blind. Limit one per session.

Headphones:
They aren’t ideal but sometimes they are almost too convenient. Even though the use of paper towels kills trees, one can’t really fault someone for buying them. However, there’s a big difference between obnoxious Bose headphones and the inconspicuous iPod ones.
On TV, never. In certain cash games, they shouldn’t be used because it creates a dynamic that’s serious when the game calls for entertainment.

Dressing nice is just the beginning. In order to effectively make a difference, it’s going to take more than just a collared shirt. We need help from the media. On Friday, March 30th is Part 2, the steps toward change. ♠

Owais Ahmed, who, after a successful year, has lost all motivation for playing poker,  wrote: “Its like I’ve hit the ceiling – all I can accomplish at a poker table is doing more of what I’ve already done. Looking forward to a future where I should grind cash daily or a few nights a week doesn’t seem that fun. When is enough enough?”

A PERSONAL STORY: A Grande Vanilla Latte

On a hot summer morning in Laguna Beach, California I stopped to relax at Laguna Beach Coffee. I love the sensation of caffeine on an empty stomach and basking in the Orange County sun. There I could get both for $2.

The cute Polish barista who knows my drink order of choice, a grande iced vanilla latte, wasn’t working that day. In her place was Bridget, another equally inviting woman with shoulder length blonde hair and bright green eyes. She chirped loudly enough that the shop could hear.

“How can I help you?” she rhymed, carrying on. Before I could answer she interrupted: “How about this: I’ll surprise you. If you don’t like it I’ll make you another one,” she reassured me.

When I took a sip of the concoction, a cold refreshing mixture of coffee, chocolate and raspberry took me to heaven. “How did you make this?” I asked. “It’s my secret,” she whispered. “Sometimes, when I get bored at work, I just experiment, you know?

THE SITUATION: Becoming Frustrated With Work

What troubles Owasis is that playing poker has shifted from being a passion to a full time job.  Once, the idea of sitting in a casino was a glamorized goal, an abstract dream. Now, a mundane reality.In a recent conversation with Michael Kaplin, a friend and freelance journalist, we caught up about our past few months. I told him of my life post Black Friday and shift to live poker. “It’s different man. I’ve been on the road lately. Traveling around trying to find games.”

His turn: “It doesn’t sound so bad, I’d love to be able to see a few places and play more poker. I’m just working on a new restaurant review. They want me to fly to Vegas for the weekend to try it. “It sounds like a dream,” I told him, “I’d love nothing more than to be paid to travel and write”.

We both laughed and said simultaneously: “I guess the grass is always greener.”

THE PROBLEM: Routines Create Boredom

Owasis confesses “I used to dream of playing a 15 hour session. Now the same thought feels like a prison sentence.”

The problem isn’t that poker became boring, but Owasis became bored of the game.If we do the same thing every day, we are going to get used to it. The challenge then, isn’t to avoid the inevitable, but how to spice things up.

We are beings of routines. They help us in almost every facet of our lives: they increase Productivity makes us more responsible and adds structure to the day helping to get things done. The difficulty lies in not becoming slaves to them.

THE SOLUTION: Creativity

What sets Bridget apart in her job is that she enjoys her work. Her secret? She got creative. Instead of making a mundane black coffee, she sold customers on eclectic inventions.

When learning stops, boredom beings.

In poker this means our decisions become robotic.

Instead of thinking  ”I’m supposed to bet the flop, because betting the flop is “standard, ask yourself “why?” By definition doesn’t standard mean that your opponents are expecting it? And if so, could there be merit in doing the opposite?

It’s easy to get creative in a game where no two hands are the same.

Recently, I’ve experimented flat calling with big hands in multi way pots. My thought is: “everyone else raises so I’m going to call.” I’ve found that people don’t give me credit and it throws them off guard.

More, I’m constantly challenging myself by being in new spots that force me to think about the game in ways I never thought possible.

FIND THE MODEL:

Find someone in your line of work that just can’t get enough of it. Take them to dinner and get inspired. What is it about the way they approach the job that makes it so exciting?

I’ve spent as much time as possible over the last month with my good friend Michael “Play2Kill” Touritz, a witty, sharp poker player who has an unparalleled passion for the game. It’s no surprise that he’s always one of the most successful at the table. Undoubtedly, the reason is his ideal day consists of 10 hours playing poker.

I was fortunate to watch him play for several hours. It’s not just that he expanded my knowledge of the game, but he challenged what I thought to be true: “If people only call raises with hands that show a profit against you, then why raise in the first place?” Through these simple diversions, poker can become a new game.

PERSPECTIVE:

I was complaining to my friend about having to play poker when she stopped me, raising her finger. “You don’t have to play,” she corrected me. “You want to play.” Depending on how we approach them, the same two activities can be either painful or pleasurable. “I have to work out today to because I’m fat” and “I’m going to enjoy a swim” both lead to the same result, yet they reveal a very different attitude.

A quick fix: list 10 things about your job that you are grateful for, read it when you get up, and take them to work with you.

Here are my records: Flexibility, entertainment, universality, lucrativeness, challenging, stimulation, ability to influence others, possibility to travel, socialize with interesting people, and it’s kinda badass. The list is growing and constantly changing.

HAVE A FOCUS:

Another exercise I found helpful is called “The Week Leak.” Each week I pick one aspect of my job I want to improve. It can be anything. This week my poker goal is to “clear my mind before each decision.” For my practice, I’m going to make a deep breath and contract my stomach before every action.

Having a focus gives me a purpose for playing. My job has gone from arbitrary to centered because I have a direction and I keep in mind that making money isn’t my job, it’s merely the product of doing it well.

Those who climb the pyramid of success reach the top because of the second level, they are skilled. They are good because of the middle layer, hard work. They work hard because most importantly, they never forget the base, the structure and foundation of everything that rests above it. Passion.

The reason I enjoy what I do so much is because I love the game itself and I love playing. Keep that love alive and the rest will follow.

The grass is plenty green everywhere. It’s right there on our front lawn. Our job is not to step on it. ♠

As discussed in Part 1, Physical solutions may help after a disastrous losing session. But what about a long term downswing? A losing month, terrible World Series, or, in the extreme case of “Saxophone,” going broke? For this, a shift in mental perspective is required.

DAMAGE CONTROL

1) Count the Loss:

I often put off tallying losses because accepting the reality is too much to bear. But the sooner I do it, the sooner I can come to terms with the fact that it’s real. After I physically write the number down, I allow myself time to lament. Sometimes I go even further and torture myself by calculating how my financial situation would have been different if I hadn’t taken that bad beat.

2) Acceptance:

It is the hardest part. I continue my agony by comparing my two numbers side by side (my current financial situation and the “could have been” one).

Then, I think long and hard about my life outside of poker. What activities do I enjoy? I actually list them: writing, exercise, cooking, yoga, friends, reading and nature.

I take time to appreciate what they have in common: they are all free. I realize deeply that everything I need to be happy is within my grasp and my life would be no different with the additional money.

This realization is the moment of epiphany when things start to turn around.

3) Recovery

In this phase, I begin doing my list of activities, even if it means forcing myself to go through the motions. It is common for a simple task to seem overwhelming, like it is for a depressed patient to get out of bed. To make things easier, the night before I make a schedule. Again, I write it out. I set myself up for success by starting the day with something simple: 5 minutes of stretching or 20 deep breaths, and gradually toward more challenging activities. Regardless of time and place, I set an alarm for 7 am and get moving.

I take time for introspective moments of gratitude. I kick off each day with a simple practice. I set a timer for 2 minutes and list as many things I can think I’m thankful for.

The more trivial the better. Raw almonds, my juicer, The New Yorker, Omar Little. It doesn’t matter, just get it out.

As Oscar Wilde said, we should delight in even the extremest moments of pain, because they are, in fact, extraordinary.

MAINTAINING A POSITIVE OUTLOOK

The Problem:

What affected “Saxophone” was not that he lost his $500,000 bankroll, but his idea of what that money means. In the thread on 2p2, he admitted the money had no specific value to him. His biggest concern seemed that he could no longer compete at the games highest levels. Understood. Going broke is the poker equivalent of a serious injury for a sports star. Depending on how fast one can recover, he may be out a week, year or a lifetime.

While not being able to immediately play the biggest games is frustrating, it’s no cause for depression. What’s difficult to comprehend is the sheer amount of money lost. Even a year later, he admits being overwhelmed.

Here’s why: Money has no purpose. There’s no clear reason one needs the dough, other than they want it. (In actuality,”Saxophone” doesn’t need the cash). With no void to replace the number that’s burdening him, the pain continues so long as he cannot recover the arbitrary number, because currently, that’s how his success is measured.

Consider this: Is it possible to conceive he would be less unhappy if the number he lost was $300,000? What if he began with $10,000,000 and lost $9,500,000? He would still have the $500,000 he laments losing, but I believe he would feel an equivalent sense of loss. The problem then is not in the figure, but his idea of it.

The Solution:

Give your chosen non poker activities meaning by making goals and working towards them.

I recommend using Tim Ferriss‘ Dreamlines and his Monthly Expense Calendar. Ferriss’ best-selling book: Four Hour Work Week covers, in detail, how to create your ideal lifestyle and the steps to cultivate and calculate it.

I’ve done this successfully for years and never once has my annual Dreamline exceeded $100,000. Please note: I’m high maintenance and my girlfriend calls me “Little Prince.”

Once we realize that the money we need to do what we want is far less than we think, it’s easier to accept the loss. Contentment comes the moment we appreciate the fact that we’re no happier with $100,000 or $10,000,000.

Lasting Happiness:

There are two types of goals: extrinsic and intrinsic. Extrinsic ones involve material, status and fame, while Intrinsic goals involve personal growth, relationships and experiences. I cannot stress how much more rewarding intrinsic goals have been in my life. Learning Italian, backpacking through New Zealand and playing piano crush owning a new wardrobe, more twitter followers and a bigger bankroll.

Happiness should be our religion and the basis on which we make our decisions. Fortunately, since it is a mental state of being, it is also a skill we can develop. Practicing Happiness should be embedded into our daily lives. Gratitude, kindness and modest expectations should be applied to not set ourselves up for disappointment. As little as five minutes a day can make all the difference.

Contentment is not a mysterious place at the end of the rainbow. It exists here and now. Most of all, when choosing an industry where money is the standard way to measure success, we must remember, the goal is not to be rich, but to be happy. ♠

“Be happy for this moments. This moments is your life.” – Omar Khayyam

A Two Part series on recovering from downswings, shifting perspective, maintaining a positive outlook and general happiness, in response to “Saxophone,” on 2p2, who is struggling to recover from losing a $500,000 bankroll.

Preface: A PERSONAL STORY

Walking through the Bellagio, I see a large crowd gathering around a bunch of screaming people. I stop to see the cause of the commotion. “What’s going on?” I ask a man huddled at the back.

“Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce are playing blackjack.” I nudge my way to the front. The group erupts, hands flailing into the air. In the process, a drunk man nearly spills his beer on my head. They must have won a fortune.

When their hands came into view the first thing I noticed wasn’t their bets, but Kevin’s watch. Massive, embedded with diamonds, it shined even on the dimly lit casino floor. My eyes followed his wrist down his hand and then his fingers. It can’t be. I squinted to make sure, but the two neatly staked red chips were unmistakable. They were betting $10 per hand.

The Reason: STIMULATION

Even though they were barely playing, the excitement created a lot of fuss. On the other hand, a high stakes poker player with a fraction of the net worth can win three zeros more then them without flinching. How is this possible? When we gamble our minds develop a tolerance to the stimulation, no different than the alcoholic who can put back 10 shots. Excessive becomes normal.

There’s only so much fluctuation we can handle before the money becomes real. Once we pass this threshold, emotions return.

When we win, joy and euphoria. When we lose, pain and panic. The losses are always worse than the wins. They are so detrimental to our state of being that I refer to the tipping point for pain as the “PT,” pain threshold. PT’s vary depending on frequency of play. For two athletes who rarely risk money, the least amount of volatility is exciting.

The Problem: COMPULSION

If one chooses to gamble, crossing the PT is unavoidable. It can be avoided by implementing stop losses before they are reached or taking breaks after significant losing streaks. Nevertheless, while these tips are good in practice, they don’t always work.

First we have to cross them to know where they are. And also a big game with a lucrative spot is often too irresistible for even the most conservative poker player to turn down. Let’s face it, we like to gamble. The real problem, then, is how do we recover when the inevitable happens?

The Physical Solution: TAKING ACTION

The life of a poker player desensitizes one to money. Personally, this is a constant battle because I’m nowhere near rich enough to justify such an indifferent mindset. The biggest hand I’ve lost is $475,000. The biggest downswing I’ve had is $1,000,000. Following both, I experienced a sense of loss, despair and a void, similar to the pain of a bitter sweet breakup. In my experience the best way to recover from such a traumatic experience is to compartmentalize the two distant realities: poker and life.

I know that my PT is the most I can lose without losing perspective. Win cap, “WC” is the opposite. When either of these lines are crossed, I take a day off to do something explorative, creative and new. Something as simple as trying a different restaurant, walking through a unseen part of town, or exercising can make the difference between a successful reset or a stressful morning. For further therapy, I make a small reward or recovery purchase. This reinforces the truth that the money I make in the poker world has value in the real world and motivates me to play better.

Sometimes I don’t have the liberty of a day off. A lucrative cash game compels me to grind or even more imminent, I cross my PT during a session and want to continue playing. The quickest way to refocus is a bit disturbing, even blasphemous, but it works. I rip up money.

That’s right. I walk away from the table, take out a $1 bill, tear it to pieces and throw it away. If you just cringed, that’s good. It’s intended to be painful and remind us that our distress is not because of the money, but that the brain is addicted to the stimulation.

In order to recreate this spark, we need more fuel and higher levels of fluctuation. This petty $1 sacrifice save thousands at the table.

Lastly, we must remember the thing that trumps all: Happiness. When debating whether or not to play poker, we shouldn’t make our decisions based on EV (expected value) in dollars, but on how it will affect us mentally, hEV (happiness expected value). ♠

Physical recovery is important in the short term: losing sessions and bad days. But in the long term, for losing months and busted bankrolls, a mental shift is required.

Check back Monday, March 18th for Part Two where I’ll cover mental state, balance and happiness.

My thoughts on cash games and tournaments. A personal story. The sequal to Filtering the Noise: Cash Games or Tournaments?

MY TAKE:

Tournaments by nature are a more simple form of poker. The short span at which they are deep stacked (several hours of play) is quickly over and soon the play becomes rather rudimentary.

It’s not to say there isn’t skill or that experienced tournament players aren’t better at picking off spots, but the margins are much smaller and a lifetime of playing is not enough to realize one’s true expectation.

It is often said that few can make the transition or be successful at both tournaments and cash games. That’s only half true. The fact is, few tournament players can win at high stakes cash games, whereas all high stakes cash game players can win at tournaments (not all rectangles are squares, but all squares are rectangles).

The Reasons:

The primary reason better players choose cash games is obvious. There is more money. Others are more obscure.

Many poker players prefer to remain anonymous. Being labeled as a professional hinders ones ability to play in the amazing games where politics are involved. Who wants to play with someone who always wins?

Some avoid tournaments because for tax purposes. Sweden for example, home of some of the world’s best poker players, enforces a usurious 50% tax rate on tournament winnings. Combined with the rising cost of travel and accommodation, it’s extremely diffuclut for the tournament poker player to show a long term profit.

The Difference:

Cash games are tougher because the players sit with more money relative to the blinds. The deeper the stacks, the tougher the decisions. This means there is more room for play and more decisions are made on the river.

River decisions are where the tough players exploit opponents the most because you always either have 100% or 0% chance of winning. If you make a mistake, by folding the best hand when the pot is $10,000, it adds up quick. Translation: Far less variance and far less luck.

Tournaments Explained:

Although they may be skilled, when tournament superstars win consistently, they are always benefactors of what Nassim Taleb calls the “professional coin flipper.”

If someone enters a coin flipping contest with 10,000 people, eventually there will be one winner.

Surely that man would go on to write a book about how to beat your opponents at flipping coins.

But would one really infer that this man is better than you or I?

This may be a bit dramatic, because it implies the analogy that a tournament, like coin flipping, requires no skill. While this isn’t true, the amount that exists is not enough to warrant many of the results.

MY EXPERIENCE:

I’ve been fortunate to have a promising tournament record. With that, I’ve received some exposure, sponsors and perhaps undeserved credibility within my industry. As much as I chide some of the aspects of tournaments, there is a ton I’ve gained from my experience in them. For that I am grateful.

The 16 year old in me still dreams of final tabling a major televised event. It’s a sensation that will never get old.  Each year as the WSOP approaches, I vow to focus more on cash because that’s how I earn my living. But, when I get up in the morning and hear that the $5,000 event has 1,400 players offering a first prize of $1,000,000, sometimes, I can’t help myself…. I’m compelled to play. ♠