A bit of poker advice

A few weeks ago, I was listening to one of those financial advice programs on the radio. An investment counselor was talking about the number of calls he was getting from clients who saw the falling stock values and wanted to sell, SELL, SELL! He said that what he told them was this: "Panic is not an investment strategy."

Well, my brain being completed soaked in poker, I immediately thought of the poker analogs of this fine bit of wisdom: Panic is not a poker strategy, either.

When I seem to be having a bad day, and I have already gone through one or two buy-ins, and have left only half or less of the last one, I tend to get gloomy and pessimistic. I start resigning myself to the inevitability of having to chalk up an "L" in the ledger for the day, which I detest. I can even start thinking fatalistically: it doesn't matter how I play, I'm going to lose anyway. It's easy to give up and look for pretty much any old spot to shove those chips in and just hope for the best, while expecting the worst.

But recently, since hearing that few minutes of the investment counselor's calm, rational advice--which he obviously had no intention of being applied this way--I have added that modified sound bite to the list of one-line advice nuggets that I try to let my brain call up when in a moment of decision.

And it has been working. I see my short stack of chips left, feel the gloomy, fatalistic thoughts creep in, but then hear that contrary message playing back at me: "Panic is not a poker strategy." What's weird about this is that, for reasons I can't begin to figure out, that message always plays in the voice of Ed Harris, as Gene Kranz in "Apollo 13," saying "Failure is not an option!" (One of the greatest lines in any context, ever.) It's stern, like somebody is barking an order at me, and it has the effect of snapping me back to attention.

This has allowed me to sit back and analyze the situation more rationally. What is my table image? Which opponents can I make fold with a bluff-shove, and which ones will call me incorrectly with weak holdings and allow me to double up if I wait for a premium hand? I re-evaluate my goals, perhaps deciding to be content with breaking even for the day or leaving down by just one buy-in instead of two or three.

The results have been highly favorable, in that I have been making more comebacks than I used to. This sequence of events happened again last night at the Rio. Everything had been going wrong, and I was down to $50 in front of me, knowing I was not going to rebuy if I lost it. I started feeling hopeless, but then the Ed Harris voice marshaled my attention and I began focusing on how to use the remaining chips in the smartest possible way, rather than in the most desperate possible way. I also projected how lousy it was going to feel if I shoved them in bad and lost, and had to drive home chastising myself for being stupid, versus how good it would feel to play smart and either fight back to even for the day, or at least go home knowing that I got my money in good and just got unlucky in a way that I couldn't control.

This was all aided by the fact that I shared the table with a guy who was following the all-too-typical route of being short and shoving willy-nilly. Each time he did it, he would stand up, prepared to go home. When he won, he would sit back down, but complain about the situation with comments like, "I'm trying to leave and you people won't let me!" We've all seen players go through this nonsense many times. He kept winning the all-in situations, but then bleeding his chips back down and getting crazy with the last of them again, until he finally, inevitably lost them all. His last hour or so was simply acting out the self-fulfilling prophecy he had obviously made, that he was going to leave broke. I didn't want to emulate him. His pathetic example helped me decide not to follow in those footsteps.

So I buckled down, infused myself with another mental jolt of patience and self-confidence, and played smart. About an hour later, I had done it, and left up by $54 instead of down by $300, which I think would have been the result if I had stayed in my "all is lost" thinking rut. Not exactly my biggest win ever, but a real accomplishment under the circumstances, one for which I could legitimately pat myself on the back. I heeded the advice and didn't panic.

Of course, there are times in both cash games and tournaments in which putting all of one's chips in with weak cards--or even with any two cards one is dealt--is correct both in terms of the math and the game theory. As long as one reaches that conclusion rationally, based on the specific situation one is in, that's not panicking. But most of the time, it is correct to wait for the stars to line up favorably before acting, even though that means exercising patience at the very moment one feels completely depleted of that particular asset.

So that's my advice for today. When things haven't been going your way, and you're feeling desperate and/or fatalistic, just remember: Panic is not a poker strategy. There is always a better way to deal with the situation.