TitanBet article

The good folks at TitanBet poker asked me to write a long article on poker etiquette--so I did. You can read it here.

If you're blocked from accessing the article directly because of geography, you may be able to work around the firewall. Search Google for this phrase, in quotation marks: "poker etiquette protects the sociability of the game." With any luck, that will yield exactly one result. (Well, probably two now, because it will find this blog post, too!) Going through Google may sneak you in--but no guarantees. 

Slow-roller punished

This is the best poker thing I've seen in a long time:

https://paddypowerpokerblog.wordpress.com/2015/04/06/andreas-gann-takes-8th-place-for-e26750-deserves-it/

Best part about that clip is the other players immediately laying into Gann with their disgust at his conduct.



ADDENDUM, April 7, 2015

According to one of the commentators in that video clip, he spoke to the culprit shortly after the incident, and learned that he had previously been exclusively an online player, and had no idea that what he did would be considered bad form. Furthermore, when he was told that it was, he immediately sought out the slow-roll victim and apologized to him.

http://www.irishpokerboards.com/forum/showpost.php?p=888949&postcount=220

Partners discouraged?

From this article just posted at PokerWorks:

"In most brick and mortar poker rooms, friends, spouses, and lovers are discouraged from playing at the same table. Management would rather avoid any hint of possible collusion than fade accusations from players who are looking for a lame excuse for losing."

That caught my attention, because I have never heard of such a thing. I have seen intimate partners playing together countless times, including some where they were regulars in the room and well known to management. In all my years playing, I have never heard of couples being asked not to play together, or read anywhere that such a request is made as a matter of policy or routine in any poker room anywhere. When you extend the claim to "friends," as this article does, it becomes even more ludicrous. Though I've never had reason to attempt an actual count, my offhand guess is that the majority of tables I've ever played at have had at least one pair of friends playing at some point during my session, and yet I've never even once heard it suggested that they not do so as a matter of room policy.

I don't know who "PokerHack" is (the author of the article), or where he or she got this impression, but I'd like to hear more about it. If this is the case for "most" B&M poker rooms, as claimed, it should be trivially easy for PokerHack to call a few poker room managers in Vegas and get on-the-record quotations either confirming or denying that they make it a point to discourage couples and/or friends from playing together when they know about it. I would be extraordinarily surprised if the claim turns out to be verifiable.

Hey, PokerHack--want to bet $100 that you can call the managers of ten randomly selected Vegas poker rooms and get at least six of them to say that they do, in fact, routinely ask couples and friends not to play together when they know it is happening? If not--that is, if you're not confident that you could confirm your assertion--then how about retracting it?

Whispering against the rules?

A small controversy erupted yesterday during the World Series of Poker. Long-time boyfriend and girlfriend David Sands and Erika Moutinho, against all odds, ended up next to each other at the feature table very deep in the Main Event. I wasn't watching the live webcast on ESPN3 when the incident in question occurred, so let me quote a couple of poker media sources.

This is from Poker Listings:

TD JACK EFFEL ISSUES A WARNING TO THE COUPLE ON THE FEATURED TABLE

Before the dinner break, there was a small controversy at the featured table because last-woman-standing Erika Moutinho and her boyfriend David "Doc" Sands were whispering between hands.

Yes, the last-couple-standing is still alive with 30 players remaining.

During the dinner break, WSOP Tournament Director Jack Effel tweeted that he had discussed the issue with Moutinho and Sands, because there were complaints about the whispering.

@WSOPTD: Had a conversation with them, and they are both on notice.

No matter what happens, it's an awkward situation for Moutinho and Sands.

If they stay out of each other's way, they're open to accusations of soft playing. If they play against each other, they're open to accusations of chip dumping. It's a bit of a no-win situation.

And here's Casino City Times:

The two began play on separate tables, with Sands on the featured TV table and Moutinho on an outer table. But when Bach was eliminated from the Main Event, Moutinho was moved to the TV table and seated right next to her boyfriend.

When Moutinho took her seat at the table, Sands greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Moutinho had 2.6 million when she sat down at the featured table. Sands had 2 million. When Sands and Moutinho weren't in hands, the two looked like they were lost in their own universe, talking quietly to each other.

But when it appeared Moutinho had whispered what she had just folded to Sands (Sands was not in the hand), tournament officials stepped in and warned the two players to be very careful about what they communicated and how.

Tournament officials told Casino City afterward that due to the unique and high-profile nature of the situation, they had to make extra sure there was not even the appearance of wrongdoing at the table.

So those are the basic facts.

The central question here is whether they violated any rule. It is certainly the case that if you show your hole cards to another player, everybody else at the table has the right to see them, too. But what if you show nothing, and after the hand is over you tell the player next to you what you had, softly enough that others can't hear it?

Twitter isn't a great medium for extended debates about poker rules, but it does have the advantage of being immediate and fast. Though I wasn't watching the action, I quickly learned of the incident from Twitter, and got myself involved in discussing it when I saw Matt Savage--perhaps the most prominent poker tournament director of our time--opine that the whispering was a violation of the rules. Several others called him on this point, too, including B.J. Nemeth and Christian Harder. (Note: Savage has a non-standard Twitter habit of replying to interlocutors by retweeting what he is responding to, with his own comment appended at the end. I am lightly editing these Tweets for readability.)

@SavagePoker Jack Effel has already spoken to @Doc_Sands and @EMoutinho about the whispering incident which was the right thing to do.

@SavagePoker RT @SammyTheDentist: did you see Moutinho/Sands hand? <--They were told to stop as it is not fair to everyone at the table.

@SavagePoker RT @jdgrover: Is it any different than 2 players telling ea other what they had after a hand? <--Yes, if they told everyone it's ok!

@BJNemeth @SavagePoker What rule, specifically, are Erika & David breaking? Players whisper to each other between hands all the time.

@BJNemeth @SavagePoker "Show one, show all" is considerably different than "Tell one after the hand, tell all."

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker Are you saying that there is a rule against one player privately telling another what he had, after the hand is over?

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker If that is your position, can you cite the rule? Does it apply during the dinner break? How about after the day is over?

@SavagePoker Show one, show all applies here and of course you cannot control what happens away from table, on breaks, or at end of day.

@SavagePoker RT @2p2Pokercast: Would you have given them each a penalty or just a warning as well? <--Reminder of show one show all rule.

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker If you're saying that one player cannot whisper down cards to another player at table after hand, that can only be...

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker ...enforced by a complete ban on whispering at the table. Are you saying that's the rule? If so, show me anywhere it's written.

@SavagePoker @PokerGrump believe it or not, not every rule is written but there is one for etiquette and show one show all.

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker I agree that there are rules, and there is etiquette. One is enforceable, the other is not.

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker Are you saying that "Don't whisper your last hand to your neighbor" is etiquette rather than a rule? If so, I'll agree.

@PokerGrump @SavagePoker But that was not the implication of your invoking "show one, show all," which is clearly a rule.

@SavagePoker @PokerGrump: Are you saying that "Don't whisper your last hand to your neighbor" is etiquette rather than a rule? <--In this case maybe

@SavagePoker @PokerGrump the way it went down did not look very good. They asked what each other had and then whispered.

@realcharder30 @SavagePoker I thought that they shouldnt of done it and just waited until break or more discreetly but they did not violate any rules.

@realcharder30 If you believe there is a problem with Erika and David communicating then separate them, do not tell them they can't whisper to each other.

If it had been just about anybody else besides Matt Savage saying that the conduct in question was a rules violation, I probably wouldn't have challenged that opinion, even though I would have thought it was erroneous. But Savage is so influential and considered such an authority on rules that I didn't like the idea of what I think was an ill-considered, off-the-cuff opinion being promulgated and accepted by his many followers as gospel truth.

As you can see, Savage's position shifted markedly. He started by saying that the post-hand whispering was a violation of the "show one, show all" rule, but by the end was reduced to arguing that it was a breach of "etiquette," and that it "did not look very good." Both of those things may be so, but they are very different from saying that the conduct was a violation of poker rules that could be enforced and penalized.

I am left wondering what Jack Effel meant by saying that the couple was "on notice." Did he warn them that they were violating a rule? If so, what rule?

There is a bit of ambiguity in the relevant rule as published by the WSOP this year. It reads:

97. Players are obligated to protect the other players in the tournament at all times. Therefore, whether in a hand or not, players may not a.) Disclose contents of live or folded hands....

Taken literally, this says that I can never, under any circumstances, disclose what I had in any hand I played in a WSOP event, even after the event is long over. That's an absurd interpretation, obviously, and can't possibly be what those who drafted the rule intended. But because the rule doesn't have any time limitation written in (e.g., a clause that specifies "while the hand is in progress"), perhaps this is the rule that Effel was intending to cite and enforce when he said that Sands and Moutinho were "on notice." But if Effel's reading of the rule is that it pertains even after the dealer has all the cards back, then how does he read into it any endpoint? And if it has no endpoint, how does the WSOP intend to enforce it against players talking about hands over dinner between levels, or overnight between days? The only logical temporal endpoint to the rule's intention is the end of the hand, which is when the pot has been awarded and all hands killed.

I have played cash games sitting next to Cardgrrl several times. I don't recall ever having whispered to her what I had after a hand was over, but it might have happened, because I wouldn't have considered it unethical or against the rules. Many times one of us has, after a hand was over (or even during a hand, if the other is not involved) disclosed to the other what we had when playing at the same table online. I have never thought we were doing anything wrong with such chat.

It's true that it is information that other players don't get. But it is degraded information, because telling somebody after the fact may not be the truth. Hearing a report is not the same as seeing the cards. That's a mostly theoretical rather than real point here, because I would never lie to Cardgrrl about what I had; if I didn't want her to know, I just wouldn't tell her. (I think the same is true for her with respect to me, though I'm not entirely sure of that, as I know that she considers the spreading of disinformation to be an important game tactic, and at the poker table I am just another opponent to be defeated by any means necessary.) As it pertains to Sands and Moutinho, I similarly assume that one would not whisper false information to the other about the contents of a hand that just ended.

I have probably had at least a few such episodes in the past when seated in a live game next to a friend, though I can't remember any specific instances--again, they wouldn't stand out in my mind, because I wouldn't have thought there was anything remarkable or wrong with privately sharing what cards I had just had, if I had some social reason to do so.

I have many times seen couples playing adjacent to each other and at least occasionally whispering to each other as soon as a hand ends, most likely sharing what the hole cards were. I have never protested this, because I can't see that it's against any rule. However, when two friends habitually show each other their cards before mucking them, I definitely will do something about it. Asking the dealer to expose them for the table two or three times in a row unequivocally sends the message to the offenders that you've noticed and won't let that pattern continue.

What would I do if I were at a setting of more import than my standard game--like, f'r instance, approaching the final table of the WSOP Main Event--and saw a couple sharing that way? Well, in theory, the rules aren't any different, but the stakes are so vastly greater than I might do something. If it happened only rarely, I might not speak up. But if I saw them whispering to each other after every hand in which one of them was involved, I probably would say something to them. I'm not sure what. Maybe something like this: "I don't know of any rule that prevents you two from whispering between hands about anything you want to talk about. But when you do, the rest of us are immediately going to conclude that you're sharing information that isn't available to the other players, so it might be better if you didn't whisper to each other the way you have been. At the break, you can talk in private all you like."

The mind reels at trying to write a general rule that would prevent such communication. As I suggested in my discussion with Savage, you can't have a rule that only says you can't whisper to another player what cards you had. The nature of whispering is such that nobody else can know what was said, so such a rule would be unenforceable. You would have to expand the rule to say "no whispering at the table." But that still won't accomplish the goal. Many poker rooms are noisy enough that you practically have to shout to be heard. It's easy in such circumstances for one player to tell another about a hand without whispering, yet not be heard by anybody else at the table. For that reason, you would have to expand the rule to say, essentially, "Any conversation between two players must be loud enough to be heard by everybody at the table." And that kind of expansion would be completely impractical. A "no whispering" rule also doesn't preclude passing notes, using Twitter or text messaging, etc.

For the situation that occurred yesterday, it seems that the simple expedient of asking them to refrain--for the sake of appearance, if not fairness--was all it took. (I remain unclear on whether there was an actual threat of penalty for further occurrences.) That is as it should be. I don't know what the tournament staff should do if that proved to be insufficient. Harder's suggestion of redrawing the seats (at least I think that's what he was implying) is interesting; certainly tournament directors have the right to redraw for new seats as needed. Of course, even that wouldn't stop them from texting each other, as use of communication devices at the table is apparently still allowed (based on having seen Ben Lamb thumbing his keyboard between hands on the live feed).

If there is any general way to prevent this from occurring, I can't imagine what it would be. Fortunately, it happens rarely enough--at least in circumstances where it really matters--that we don't have to figure it all out right now.

Powerless?

I'm reading a profile of Allen Bari in the July 13 issue of Card Player magazine. I had not been aware of him prior to this year's WSOP, but I've quickly learned to dislike him intensely. His reputation for misconduct is already tightly associated with his name, and he seems not only OK with that, but bound and determined to make himself the game's number-one arrogant, trash-talking asshole--as if we need another one of that ilk.

In this interview he says, "When you have an elite understanding of the game like I do, and you sit back and watch these morons who know absolutely nothing, it's near impossible to stay quiet, especially when their stupidity costs me chips or my tournament life. I completely understand that they are the people who fuel this industry and enable me to make a living playing poker, but I just can't stop myself." [Emphasis added.]

This is pure bullshit. Of course he could stop himself if he wanted to. Most poker players manage to take bad beats without berating opponents' bad play. If Bari can't, then there's something specifically defective about him. It is certainly not true, as a generalization, that "it's near impossible to stay quiet" in such circumstances. I find it almost trivially easy. If Bari finds it so difficult, again, that indicates that there's something wrong with him; it is not the case that everybody is similarly situated.

But even that statement of things is giving him too much credit. I'm not willing to blame his lack of self-control on some intrinsic flaw that he is powerless to change. I can't prove this, but I am nevertheless virtually certain that it's true: If some rich philanthropist offered Bari one million dollars for every time he managed to stifle an impulse to berate another player, I suspect he would suddenly find that he could, in fact, manage to pull it off pretty consistently. Let's alter our hypothetical contract further, and put in the additional the stipulation that every time Bari says anything negative to or about another player, he has to pay a one million dollar fine. Now if he yields to his impulse it costs him $1 million out of pocket, plus foregoing the $1 million that he could have won by suppressing his comments. Think he'd change his behavior? Of course he would.

The purpose of the thought experiment is to demonstrate that his outbursts are choices that he makes, and that he could choose not to make, if he deemed it sufficiently important. His words are not attributable to demons that suddenly take over all voluntary control of his brain's speech center. If he could choose to behave different for money, he could choose to behave differently for any other reason, too. He just doesn't really want to.

The words "I just can't stop myself" are always a lie, or at least a deep level of denial and self-deception. If the one uttering them were being honest, he would say instead, "I choose to act that way, and I don't really want to change." So in addition to being a pompous, rude jerk, Allen Bari is a liar.

People are so rude

For the past couple of months I've had a stiff, sore shoulder. It seems to be getting better gradually, but it has required a slow, painful process of frequent exercise and stretching. (If you play poker with me and see me pull on one arm with the other while making unpleasant faces, now you'll know why.)

Because of it, yesterday while playing poker I decided to pop a couple of ibuprofen. A segmented pill case is among the many items I routinely carry in what Cardgrrl calls the Fanny Pack of Great Awesomeness. I keep with me ibuprofen, Tylenol, aspirin, some allergy pills, and one megajolt of caffeine. A couple of minutes after I had swallowed the Advil with a sip of water, the guy on my left--who had not said a word to me since joining the table--leaned over and asked, "What kind of pills you takin' there?"

I don't know about you, but that's a question I would ask only of somebody with whom I had a very close relationship. Anybody else, it's none of my business. To compound the rudeness, he waited until I was in the middle of playing a big pot to ask.

The answer was innocent enough, so I gave him the one-word brush-off answer without turning to look at him. He followed it up with, "Whatcha takin' it for?"

That one I ignored.

People's brazenness frequently astounds me.

But I'm going to be better prepared next time somebody interrogates me as to what medication I'm taking. I'm going to lean in close to him and say, "I can't remember the name, but it's something really strong for my tuberculosis [cough, cough]."

How many stories does the Stratosphere have?

Tonight, just four.

Story 1

I was in Seat 8. A middle-aged Asian gentleman, who kept falling asleep between hands and had an almost incomprehensibly thick accent, was in Seat 9 next to the dealer--one of my two favorite spots. He appeared about to leave. He picked up his chips and cash and took a step toward the aisle, apparently heading for the cashier. I told the dealer, "I'll take that seat." I was in the middle of a hand, so I didn't start moving my stuff right away.

But then the oddest thing happened: The guy did an about-face to his right, walked behind his seat, pulled it out, sat back down, and put his chips and cash back on the table.

I asked him, "Change your mind about leaving?" He said, "No, I do that for good luck. I haven't had any good cards in an hour. Now everything's gonna be changed." I asked him how that works. He replied, "I dunno. I'm just superstitious."

Really? I never would have guessed.

Story 2

Maybe 15 minutes later, I had my only all-in confrontation of the night. I had pocket aces. My sole opponent, a very pleasant young woman, had raised pre-flop to $8 and then called my $25 reraise. Then she led into me on the flop of 4-9-10 with two clubs. It left her with about $100 behind, and I had her covered. I thought a bit, and decided that it was pretty unlikely that she had me beat at this point, but if she were on a draw, she might call when the odds were in my favor. So I shoved. She agonized for a while, then settled on a call, even while saying that she knew I was ahead. I showed the aces, she showed Jh-Qh. The board ran out blanks.

As I was stacking the chips, I turned to the man next to me and said, "I think you did that for me. That little walk around the chair made me have good luck!"

He apparently didn't catch that I was joking with him. He adamantly denied it. "I had nothing to do with that! I do only for me, not for you!"

I wasn't done kidding him. I said, "I dunno. You know, sometimes when the gods throw lightning bolts, they miss. They may have intended to send you the good luck, but they missed and hit me instead."

This time he smiled, apparently having now figured out that I was just joshing him, and not actually trying to steal his mojo. But he still would have no part of it. He said, "My voodoo is only for me. You do your own voodoo!"

I laughed, and was going to make a Cole Porter quip, but I was pretty sure he wouldn't get it.

Story 3

At the far end of the table was Larry. I've played with him several times before, previously always at the Sahara. Apparently he has found a new venue, now that the Sahara poker room is virtually closed.

Larry is an ornery cuss. He's in his 60s, always disheveled, with a perpetual scowl etched into his face. I've never seen him smile or laugh. He's terribly slow to play, because he's never paying attention. He's an alcoholic, and has been drunk every single time I've played with him. In fact, on at least three occasions he has been a seriously obnoxious drunk, has been cut off from more booze, then spent the next couple of hours scheming ways to get around his ban. E.g., he'd find a different cocktail waitress, or wander off to one of the bars and sneak his bottle of beer back to the table under his coat, etc. I had some of his beer spill on me once when he tried that--immediately after I had asked him to put his beer on the table so that he wouldn't drop it, and he denied having one.

It was Larry about whom was uttered the strangest sentence I've ever heard at a poker table, as I wrote about here: "If you hadn't taken out your teeth, I would have won that pot." Larry is also the guy whom a Sahara dealer let get away with an absent-minded tapping that should have been considered a check, as I described here.

In case you can't tell, I don't like Larry much. Scratch that. I don't like him even one little bit. His sole redeeming quality, from my point of view, is that he's a really, really bad poker player. Taking his money is like the proverbial candy/baby situation. (About which, this Mythbusters test of that cliched expression is well worth watching.)

So anyway, Larry is in a three-way hand with the nice young woman mentioned above and our second drunk, who annoyed me by being way too chatty, but at least he wasn't an intolerably obnoxious old coot like Larry. On a flop of 9-8-4, all three got their chips in. Young woman, who was the first to shove, obviously didn't like being called, and said, "I need help." She showed A-K. Drunk #2 turned over his pocket jacks. Larry didn't move a muscle.

The turn brought an ace, which delighted the young woman. The river paired the board--another 4.

Everybody sat there waiting for Larry. He didn't touch his cards. I assumed that he had lost and just didn't want to admit it. He mumbled something to the dealer, which neither she nor I could understand. She asked him to repeat himself.

He said, louder and more emphatically, "Call the floor!" The dealer was confused. "Why? What's the problem?"

Larry said, with a strange mix of irritation and triumph, "Call the floor, so they can bring me my jackpot money." And with that, he turned up his pocket 4s, still scowling.

It was without a doubt the most deliberate, prolonged, mean-spirited, and uncalled-for slowroll I have ever witnessed.

Some people are pretty much worthless human beings. Larry falls into that category, if you ask me.

Story 4

Once in a while, you run into somebody who is so fixated on the etiquette of chopping the blinds that when somebody refuses, he feels it necessary to "teach him a lesson."

We had such a kid at the table. A new player joined us to the kid's left, pretty obviously inexperienced at casino poker. When they had their first chop opportunity, and the option was explained to the newcomer, he said, "Let's play." The kid looked disgusted at him, and quickly announced a raise to $15. Newbie called.

The flop came K-Q-3 rainbow. Check, bet, call. Turn was an apparent brick. Check, bet, min-check-raise, call. River another nothing. Kid moved all in. As the new guy was trying to decide what to do, the kid said, "You shoulda chopped. This is what happens." New guy thought some more. Kid said, "I have two pair, if that makes your decision any easier." New guy finally called.

Kid's face fell. He bashfully admitted, "I got nuthin'," and turned over A-2, for ace high. New guy flipped up his K-7 offsuit and took the pot. Kid stormed off.

I couldn't help laughing. "Nice hand," I said. "Nicely done."

And I meant it.

Some people like to see what they perceive as "justice" done to somebody who won't chop the blinds. (In this case, for what it's worth, I think the guy just had no clue what was being asked, nor that he committed what some consider to be a breach of etiquette by requesting to play it out.) I, conversely, loved seeing somebody who was trying to shame a green player get his comeuppance in a rather humiliating way--kind of like seeing the playground bully trying to push somebody down, but slipping and falling face-down in the mud himself instead.

Players are free to chop or not chop, so long as they're consistent about it, and I don't like others trying to apply social pressure to influence the decision or make somebody feel like an outlaw for wanting to play. After all, isn't playing why people sit down in the game? This is especially the case when somebody is an inexperienced player. After it's over, it's fine to explain to him that he might think about chopping in the future because of the difficulty of anybody making money in such a hand, etc. But do it in a friendly, helpful way--not trying to rub his nose in it.

The kid clearly thought that his opponent was going to get what he had coming--but it was the kid who got what he so richly deserved.

Image found at http://freehotelreviews.org/hotels/stratosphere-hotel/.

Busybody

I have one more story from last night's post-tournament cash session at the Orleans.

I had been playing for an hour or so, and was down somewhat, due to a three-barrel bluff gone wrong. I was in Seat 7. Seat 6 was occupied by a young man obviously new to casino poker. The details of the hand don't matter; suffice it to say that on the turn I had top pair (king) with a queen kicker, plus a flush draw, and liked my situation very much. I was about 80% confident that I was already ahead, and I had the draw as backup in case I was wrong. Before my opponent acted, I had already decided to raise him all-in (about $110) if he bet, or bet about half of my stack if he checked.

He cut out some chips--$40 worth, in two stacks of four red chips. But he pushed them forward with two movements in rapid succession, a classic string bet. The dealer picked up one of the stacks, seemed to hesitate, not sure what to do, then put it back down and decided to say nothing. I don't know why. She clearly was a rather timid personality. But maybe she had looked away at the crucial moment and wasn't sure of what she had seen. Or maybe she had heard something before the young man's bet that made her think that perhaps he had announced an amount, though, in fact, he hadn't. (The latter is actually my best guess. The room was noisy, and her English was kind of shaky, so I imagine it's easy for her to be unsure of what she is or is not hearing.)

Of course, I was happy to have him bet $40 instead of $20, since I was hoping for a double-up. (He had me covered.) I did not protest the string bet and was glad that the dealer wasn't going to call it back.

But just as I started reaching for my chips, the guy in Seat 9 spoke up in protest. "He didn't announce an amount. That's a string bet." I said to the dealer, "It's OK, we can let it go." but Seat 9 would have none of that. "No! He can't do that! He has to take it back."

The dealer capitulated and reduced the bet to $20. I thought about reducing my raise to $50 or $60, but I thought that since he was obviously wiling to bet $40, there was a good chance he would call the all-in, so I continued with the original plan. But after my opponent thought it over for a minute, he folded.

Of course, maybe I was really behind (though that seems unlikely), or maybe if he had called he would have drawn out on me in some gross way. But the most likely thing is that the intervention of Seat 9 cost me at least $20, and may have cost me about $90 (the difference between the amount that I actually won and the amount that I probably would have won if Seat 6 had felt pot-committed with a $40 bet and therefore had called and lost).

I was understandably annoyed at him for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong and was neither needed nor welcome. Still, I wasn't going to say anything to him about it. But then he opened the subject: "Sorry if I cost you $20 there." This was not said in an apologetic manner at all. The clear sense I got from it was, "Tough luck for you, but I did what had to be done."

So I responded: "You know, between the dealer and the players who are actually in the hand, we can figure it out without you butting in." He said, "No, obviously you couldn't. The rule is clear, and his bet had to go back, and the dealer wasn't doing her job." I said, "How about this: You call the string bets on the hands that you're involved with, and I'll take care of the ones that I'm involved with."

The exchange concluded with him saying, "You can be mad at me if you want to, but if you had won that extra $20, it would have been by cheating. Just think about that."

There was no chance that I was going to change his mind, or he mine, so I dropped it and the game went on.


This incident raises some interesting questions, I think. The first is when and to what extent does one step into a problem in a hand that one is not involved in? This is a dilemma I've wrestled with many times. Just a couple of months ago I prevented a very large pot from being pushed to the wrong player when not a single other person at the table--player or dealer--noticed that there was a straight on the board and the pot should be chopped. I have no doubt that that was the right thing to do.

But other times I'm still not sure whether speaking up was (or would have been) correct, even after reflecting on it for a while later. I think the first time I wrote about this phenomenon was in a blog post in November, 2007, here. Most of that post was later incorporated into a piece in Card Player magazine by their former columnist Mike O'Malley, available here. In 2009 I wrote about an incident at the Venetian in which I intervened in order to clarify how much money a guy was playing, and essentially everybody who submitted a comment on that post thought that I should have kept out of it.

With that history, I'm not immune to a charge of hypocrisy in complaining about the busybody at the Orleans. Nevertheless, there are a couple of guidelines that I think should illuminate when to jump into the fray uninvited, which he was not following.

First, I see the main reason for speaking up to be to help protect the general integrity of the game and, more specifically, to help protect less-experienced players who may not know all the intricacies of the rules. In this case, Seat 9 was unquestionably a very experienced player who, after an hour of watching me, had to recognize that I was not a naif in need of sheltering. Just as obviously, Seat 6 was not an angle-shooter trying to take advantage of me.

Second, if it were to happen that after I pointed out what I perceived as a problem, those involved in the hand were all OK with the situation as it was, I think that I would back off and let them be. Here, Seat 6 wanted to bet $40, the dealer had, for whatever reason, decided to let him, and I expressed my assent to the small irregularity. Even if the interloper had justification to speak up initially, once those directly affected by the situation have all agreed to let it be, I think he should back off. As a similar example, a couple of years ago I wrote about a situation at Caesars Palace in which there was a question of whether one guy's cards had been mucked. The dealer thought the hand should still be live, as did both players involved. But an annoying guy at the table just wouldn't drop it, insisting that the hand be declared dead, even though he had no stake in the outcome.

The second point of possible interest is Seat 9's contention that if the bet had been allowed to stand, I would have been profiting from "cheating." I reject this out of hand, frankly. To include this requires a very different conception of what constitutes "cheating" from what the word means to me. I see it as comparable to a football team declining to enforce a penalty on the opposing team when it is to their advantage to do so. Of course I have the right to force the player to reduce his bet when it was made in a technically illegal fashion, but I don't think there is any grand principle that should require me to do so when I am not disadvantaged by his action. That is particularly true here when the reason for the existence of the rule (to prevent an angle-shooter from watching an opponent's reaction to the bet, then deciding whether to increase the size of the bet based on that reaction) is not even remotely in effect.

Almost four years ago I wrote about the problem of players who do some sort of tapping motion while thinking about a decision, and how hard it can be to tell sometimes if this is just idle, meaningless hand activity or is intended to signal a check. I stand by the conclusion that I had then: If I'm the one being put in an awkward position by the player's ambiguity (because I have to interpret his action and act on it in some way), it is my discretion whether to look the other way and let it go, or have it enforced as a binding action, the way the rules say that I can. I view an opponent's string bet in the same way, if I am on the receiving end of his violation: I can ask that the rule be enforced, or I can waive enforcement. And, of course, I can make that decision based on what is most to my advantage. That doesn't mean that I always will; believe it or not, I'm actually capable of extending grace and forbearance. But I submit that it is not cheating, not angle-shooting, not unethical to make the decision either way--to let the errant action stand, or to insist on the player being held to letter of the law--and to make that decision based on what is in my own best interest.

(Of course, most often the dealer takes the initiative and I don't have a choice to make, but I'm discounting those situations here. Had this dealer initially disallowed the second part of the bet, I probably would have said something like I did, and then if she had continued to insist on the reduced bet size, I would not have pushed the point further.)

Questions for readers to comment on: (1) Was the guy wrong to involve himself in the first place? (2) Was he wrong to continue to press the point after I had indicated that it was OK with me to let the string bet stand? (3) Was I being unethical/dishonest/cheating/angle-shooting to say that I was OK with overlooking the technical violation and attempt to let the bet stand?

Here we go again

Once again, I have had somebody grouse about my alleged bad behavior when he was the one at fault.

It happened at Imperial Palace tonight. I limped from early position with Jc-10c, then called a late-position raise to $8 from a big, bald, British, tattooed guy, who I shall call BBBTG. Flop 10-J-Q rainbow. I liked having two pair, but this is about as dangerous a flop as you could name for two pair. I was beaten by 10-10, J-J, Q-Q, Q-10, Q-J, A-K, and K-9, all of which were probably in his pre-flop raising range. I was obviously currently ahead of any one-pair hands, but A-A, K-K, and A-Q all had lots of outs, and even A-J, A-10, K-Q, K-J, and K-10 would give me a good sweat. I didn't want to risk a free card, so I bet $20, the size of the pot. He almost instantly moved all-in for $46 more. This only narrowed his range a little, by effectively ruling out pocket pairs lower than 10-10, which wasn't much help to my decision. The vibe I got from him was more "I'm not going to let you weasel this pot away from me" than "Let's please get all the money in because I have the nuts." So I called.

He did not show right away, so neither did I. The turn was a 4, I think. The river was another 10. That helped me, but was by no means a cinch. I was still losing to J-J, Q-10, and Q-Q. He wasn't moving, so I reminded him, "I called you, sir." He announced, "Two pair."

Not good enough. You don't get to win the pot by just declaring what your cards are, even if you're more specific than "two pair." Oddly enough, other people might not believe you. You have to show them to win. This concept seemed too advanced for the feeble mind of BBBTG to grasp, so I gave him another reminder, more slowly this time: "I. Called. YOU."

He finally took the hint and rolled over his pocket aces, whereupon I quickly showed my full house and took the pot.

Had that been the end of it, I wouldn't be writing this. But it wasn't. BBBTG was playing next to one of his friends, and I overheard scraps of their ensuing sotto voce conversation, the gist of which was that I had acted with unspeakably atrocious manners by not showing my hand when he declared himself to have two pair, because I must have known I could beat any two-pair hand.

Grrrr. How many times do we have to go through this, people? Could it be that there are, somewhere in the world, poker players who do not read this blog regularly, and thus have not heard the word about one's showdown obligations? Hard to believe, but perhaps that is the case.

If you take the last aggressive action, and somebody else calls, then you have the responsibility to show your hole cards first. Alternatively, if you're embarrassed about them, you can just throw them in the muck. But your obligation is not discharged by saying what you have, nor by showing just one card. The even more annoying practice of starting to quiz your opponent about what he has is, or at least should be, grounds for execution on the spot. At least BBBTG didn't do that. (Being a merciful kind of guy, I would be willing to commute his death sentence to castration with a dull, rusty knife and no anesthetic, thus ensuring that his rudeness and stupidity genes were not passd on to the next generation.)

No matter how long I play this game, I will never understand why so many people have such a hard time understanding and complying with this simple, universal rule and practice. Nor will I ever get why people who fail to abide by it feel comfortable bitching about those of us who do, as if somehow we are the source of the problem. It's like veering across the center line into oncoming traffic, then blaming the people who stayed on the right for the resulting head-on collision.

At least BBBTG didn't make me wait for the heat death of the universe. I hate when that happens.

All-in fake-out

I played at the Rio last night. At one point, with a large pot between three players, the action was to start on Seat 2. The guy in seat 1, who was not in the hand, loudly said, "All in!" The dealer was looking down, counting her tray at the time, and so didn't immediately know where the announcement had come from, and without looking up just repeated for the table, "Player is all in."

There followed a few seconds of confusion for the other players in the hand--just as the joker had intended--but it got sorted out before any apparent damage was done.

When the hand was over, one person who had been involved was visibly upset at the jokester. He told him, "If you do that again, and it causes me to react and somebody else gets a read on me as a result, I'm going to have the floor make you put all your chips in the pot without any cards."

Well, that's just silly. There is no rule that would either allow or require one player to forfeit his chips to another with no cards.* I can't imagine any floor person in any poker room making that kind of ruling.

But the upset guy does have a perfectly legitimate point. An "all in" announcement at a critical moment by somebody not in the hand--especially when repeated by the dealer, as happened last night--could very easily cause a muck by a player not paying full attention, or could cause some sort of dismayed look on the face of one player with a mediocre hand that could be noticed and acted upon by somebody else. While there is no specific rule that directly forbids such a phony outburst, it is surely sufficiently covered by the general admonition not to talk about the hand that is in progress, because it has obvious potential to queer the action.

I was surprised and disappointed that the prankster last night was not even given so much as a warning from the dealer or anybody other card room employee. The outraged player's stupid threat was all that was said about it. Had I been the dealer, I would have called the floor over. Had I been the floor, I would have sternly warned both the offender and the rest of the table that any future such action would result in expulsion from the room. Like telling the TSA employee that you have a bomb in your luggage, such things just cannot be tolerated, even if done jokingly.

I remember one time on an early season of "High Stakes Poker," there was a hand between Daniel Negreanu and Antonio Esfandiari. Esfandiari folded when Negreanu wasn't watching him, so didn't realize what had happened. Esfandiari took advantage of the situation to scare Negreanu with a verbal "All in." Oh, look--I found the clip on YouTube!



There's nothing wrong with this little prank, as the action was over, so there was no way to influence the outcome of the hand. But I wonder if people have seen this and decided that it's a good joke to emulate, not realizing that it's an entirely different matter when there is still action pending.



*Certainly a player can be ejected from a tournament for a variety of rules infractions, and his chips forfeited, but they are simply removed from play, not given to any other player. Also, it is possible for a player to have to forfeit his chips to another with no cards in the specific circumstance where he has legitimately declared himself all in, gets called by a bigger stack, then fails to protect his hand and his cards are accidentally mucked by the dealer. But, obviously, neither of these situations is what I had in mind when making the generalization above.

Leave the button alone

There are some posts that I think about writing, oh, 16,000,000 times or so before I actually get around to it. This is one of them. Nothing in particular prompted the timing, except that I'm sitting at home in front of the computer and it occurred to me. My basic message is in the title of the post: Leave the dealer button alone.

The first and most obvious annoyance that results from not abiding by this sage advice is that sometimes a player who is not in the hand gets bored and decides that the button is his personal plaything. He twirls it around, shuffles it from one hand to the other, or whatever. The result is that when others glance around to see where the button is, in order to figure out where action is starting and ending, they can't find it. The button does not become your toy simply because it happens to be sitting in front of you. Leave the damn thing alone.

But now for a subtler problem. Many, many players think they are being helpful by moving the button for the dealer at the end of a hand. I contend that they are mostly wrong. Here's why.

Naturally, the most common thing is that the button moves one seat clockwise when a hand concludes. But once in a while something different needs to happen--it needs to move two spots (e.g., to skip a player who just sat down), or none (e.g., if somebody is buying the button after missing a big blind). Most players who think they are being helpful don't anticipate these exceptions and mess it up.

However, even when things are normal, it's easy to create a problem moving the button. The most common way this happens is that a player moves it without saying anything, when the dealer isn't watching. Then the player who moved it gets distracted by something else (sports on TV, cocktail waitress arriving, or whatever), so the dealer--or sometimes a second player--moves it again, and PRESTO, we have a problem.

On average, it must take a dealer two seconds or less to move the button. So that's the maximum time you're saving the game if you do everything right. (It's probably a bit less, because there's a little time for the dealer to recognize that you have moved the button and process that he or she can skip that step. But let's ignore that factor for now.) If, though, you cause a problem, it's likely to take 30 seconds or so to straighten it out. "I thought he was the button." "No, I was just the small blind." "No you weren't, I was the small blind that hand." "You couldn't have been the big blind, because I put in a straddle." Etc. It's tedious, annoying, and so completely unnecessary, had the meddlers not created the problem to begin with.

In my experience, these situations--either the exceptional case where the button should be moved or not moved differently than usual, or the common case where it gets moved twice accidentally, or at least it is initially unclear whether it got moved twice--happen sufficiently often that the time wasted in solving the resulting messes outweighs the total of the time saved in two-second increments by players "helpfully" moving the button. I submit that the poker world would be better off if no players ever touched the button than we are with the current situation in which so many players think they know how to do it right, but actually don't.

The one obvious exception I would make to the above observation is the situation in which the dealer has difficult reaching the button, usually at the end seats, because the tables are too large, or the dealers are too small (or, sometimes, too fat). In such cases, there should be no problem if a player, seeing the dealer starting to reach for the button, takes the initiative and moves it. (Sometimes a dealer will verbally ask for such help, too.) That way it is done at the right time and with the dealer's knowledge.

If you insist on taking the initiative in situations other than that, here's what I think you should know about the seemingly simple process of pushing the button forward one seat: It is supposed to come at a specific point in the process of concluding a hand. If dealers are following the standard training, the sequence of events is (1) kill the losing hands, (2) push the pot to the winner, (3) move the button, (4) drop the rake, (5) muck the winning hand and begin the scramble/shuffle for the next hand.

So if you're going to move the button, you should anticipate that the dealer will be looking to do so himself or herself immediately after the pot has been pushed. Pushing the pot usually requires the dealer to have his or her eyes on it, and he or she will not be attending to what is happening to the button until that task is completed. If you move it while the pot is being pushed (the most common problem-creating scenario) and do nothing else, the dealer will often miss that fact.

You need to either be ready to move it right at the moment that the dealer's attention is coming to that task, or be ready right then to indicate that you have already moved it. If I'm doing it, I either make sure the dealer sees me do it, or, if he or she isn't watching at the expected moment (some dealers do tasks out of the standard order), I tap the button deliberately when the dealer's attention is finally my way, or announce out loud that I have moved it.

But the point is this: If you take on the responsibility of moving the button, you also thereby accept a sacred duty to (1) not screw it up (e.g., moving it when it shouldn't be moved, etc.), and (2) make absolutely sure that the dealer knows that it's done. If you fail in either of these respects, then you have cost everybody at the table time, rather than having saved time, as you like to flatter yourself that you are doing.

That, of course, is an unforgivable sin.

Bad etiquette all around

A hand on the PokerStars Big Game concludes with Tony G checking the river, Jason Mercier bluffing his missed draws with 10-high, and Tony G calling. Mercier does not show his cards, just says, "You got it," but doesn't muck. Tony G shows his ace-high and wins the pot. Mercier mucks.

Tony G asks the dealer to open Mercier's hand. Dealer kills it by tapping it on the pot, then shows. Mercier is clearly offended by this request: "Why do you want to see my hand?" Tony G replies, "I just wanted to see what you called the flop with, that's all. I'm sorry. It's nothing personal, right?" Mercier doesn't respond, but makes a face.

At this point, commentator Joe Stapleton adds, "Asking for a hand to be opened is a big no-no in live poker."

Tony G doesn't drop it: "That's fair enough, isn't it?" Mercier says, practically through gritted teeth, "I guess." Tony G says, "I don't want to be nasty or anything." Mercier says, "I don't think it's being nasty, it's just bad etiquette." Antonio Esfandiari repeats Mercier's words: "It's just bad etiquette." (There's also a comment in there from Isaac Haxton which I couldn't make out, but I get the impression he's reassuring Tony G that he did nothing wrong.) Phil Hellmuth pipes up to add his opinion that it was "bad etiquette." Later, Stapleton adds that Tony G's request "was within the rules, but is frowned upon."

Mercier, Stapleton, Esfandiari, and Hellmuth all have a point, but they're also missing a bigger one. The chain of bad etiquette was started by Mercier himself. Tony G called his bet. His obligation then was to either expose his cards or muck them, and to do so quickly. He failed in that duty.

Tony G was well within his rights to ask to see Mercier's cards under the circumstances, but a much better alternative would have been for him to sit quietly, do nothing, and wait for Mercier to take one of his two required actions--waiting until the heat death of the universe, if necessary. Or he could have reminded Mercier of who bet and who called, and therefore who had the obligation to show first.

If he had called and Mercier had insta-mucked, then I would agree that Tony G was out of line to ask for the show. Still technically within the rules, but something I would never do. If a guy mucks without showing after getting called, he had nothing, and the informational value you get from forcing him or the dealer to show his cards isn't worth the bad feelings you engender.

But here, Mercier was the one who created the problem by not showing when it was his turn to do so. Tony G's solution to the problem was not the most graceful, but I assign the greater fault to Mercier for not performing the simple act that he clearly knows is his duty.

Offsetting penalties, no yardage awarded.


I can't say I'm surprised at Mercier's conduct. He was at Cardgrrl's table on the second day of her HORSE event at the World Series of Poker, so I got to observe him from just a few feet away. He basically threw a little hissy-fit at the dealer, who was only doing his job. Mercier had arrived at the table without his identification, and the dealer, following the instructions he had been given, refused to deal him in. He called his supervisor over to handle it. Mercier wanted to play while the problem got sorted out, but the dealer told him he wasn't allowed to deal to him. Mercier got irrationally snippy with the dealer when the problem was one of his own creation!

Then, once that got straightened out, Mercier proceeded to tell another player about his outrage the previous day when a cashier wouldn't violate some protocol for him (I can't remember the details now) in order to get him bought into an event. Again, it was a situation that Mercier had caused by waiting until the very last second to try to register, as I recall.

My amateur diagnosis is that Mercier is a snot-nosed brat who thinks that all sorts of special accommodations should be made for him. His attitude in both stories struck me as the classic, "Don't you know who I am?" sort of thing. Which is why it does not surprise me at all to see him break a rule of play, then accuse his opponent of being the one with bad etiquette. The kid has some serious growing up to do, if you ask me.

The "Le Chiffre"

Last night at Mandalay Bay we had a player at the table who had a smarmy move that he pulled every time he had the winning hand. Instead of showing both cards right away when it was his obligation to do so, he turned them face up stacked together, so only one was visible. Then, after a dramatic pause of a few seconds, he would shift the top card over slightly so as to expose the bottom card.

I'm calling this move the "Le Chiffre," in honor (or, more accurately, in dishonor) of the first poker scene in the 2006 James Bond film, "Casino Royale." I expect it has been done similarly in other movies before, but this is the one that immediately came to mind when the douchebag last night was doing it:




The first time the guy at Mandalay Bay did this, it was an all-in and a call, on a queen-high board. His opponent showed A-Q. Monsieur Le Chiffre turned his cards over with a queen showing, waited a bit for the tension to grow, then moved aside the top card to reveal the case queen underneath for the winning set.

I think it's perfectly obvious that this is nothing more than a variant form of slow-rolling, and is to be condemned in the strongest possible terms. It is low down and despicable. It is not cool. It does not make you look smart or glamorous. It is not fun for anybody watching. In fact, it is not enjoyed by anybody except the twisted sociopath who gets his jollies from torturing an opponent with uncertainty and false hope. It is done only by movie villains and real-life villains. Perpetrators should have their hands smashed by a hammer, the back-room treatment that Robert DeNiro's henchmen dish out to blackjack cheaters in "Casino." (Guess what move I've been watching!)

And that's all I have to say about that.

Asking to see cards

All players are entitled to equal information, because, as John Vorhaus succinctly put it, "They say that information is power; in poker, it's cash, just cash."

This basic idea is at the root of the universal rule, "Show one, show all." It means that if you voluntarily show your hole cards to one player, every other player at the table is entitled to see them, too. If you don't make this happen yourself, then any player can ask the dealer to expose them.

But there's a practical problem that I have run into more times than I can count: Asking the dealer to show them doesn't always work. My standard phrase is, "Show those, please." The problem is that a fair percentage of the time, the dealer doesn't hear this request. It gets lost among the other conversations going on, as well as the general background din of the casino.

An associated problem is that there is only a very narrow window of opportunity in which to make the request. The interval between a player flashing his cards to his neighbor and the dealer sweeping them into the muck (after which it's too late) is typically two seconds or so. That's not much time for me to see what has happened, decide that I want to see what was shown, speak up, and have the dealer recognize and respond to the request.

After having had my "show" request disregarded way too many times, I have come to saying it rather loudly. It is also necessarily somewhat rushed, because of the number of times that the dealer hears the request, but doesn't register and react to it before shoving the cards into the muck.

The result, though, is that I can't help sounding rather insistent, forceful, perhaps even desperate. Those tones are just the natural by-product of saying something fast and loudly, so as to get the dealer's attention. Since adopting this change of tone, I have frequently gotten surprised or even alarmed looks from dealers. They occasionally glare at me and say something like, "OK, calm down."

I know of no way to get the perfect modulation of voice that would be sufficiently loud, clear, and rapid to be sure to attract the dealer's timely attention without resulting in an impression that I am somehow excited or desperate about the matter. I rather doubt that it's possible to achieve the middle ground that avoids missing information opportunities but also never results in a raised eyebrow and a scowl from a dealer who doesn't understand my dilemma.

Yes, dealer, I know you don't like to be yelled at. But if I don't come close to yelling, you and your peers have a nasty habit of ignoring me. You and your ilk have driven me to being insistent.

The best solution just occurred to me the other day.

I have stated here several times before that I believe that the "Show one, show all" rule does not just convey a right to the other players, but confers on the player exposing his cards an affirmative ethical duty: If you show one person, you need to show everybody, rather than making somebody else ask and relying on the dealer to show. But few players do this consistently, unfortunately. I think this concept needs to be functionally incorporated into the rule.

If I ran a poker room, I would implement this rule: If the dealer sees a player sharing his hole cards with another player, then the dealer is required to do two things. First, expose those cards for the table, without waiting for anyone to request it. Second, tell the player in question that if he is going to show one person, he has to show everybody. That is, make it clear that the dealer taking this action is a backup plan, a remedial action for a player who failed to live up to his responsibility. Teach players that the "flash and muck" is unacceptable and will be treated as a violation of the house rules. You can get a warning the first time or two, because people need a chance to be told the rule and overcome their bad habits, but after that, failure to comply will be deemed deliberate, and escalating sanctions may come into play, as for all other recurrent violations of the rules of the game.

This rule is most important when a hand has gone to either showdown or a late-stage bet without a call. It is less important when the hand being shown is folded pre-flop, and the flash to a buddy is just a "Look what trash they're giving me" gesture. Still, in an effort to prevent future problems and instill the meaning of the rule, I would have dealers in that situation politely explain that the rule also pertains to that case, and ask the player not to continue showing his cards. If it persists, then the next time the dealer will need to keep those cards separate from the muck and show them after the action has concluded--and keep doing this as often as it occurs, until the player learns not to do it.

Of course, the dealer sometimes doesn't see the post-hand flash, because it tends to occur right when he or she is busiest with pushing the pot, moving the button, clearing the board, dropping the rake, etc. There's no perfect solution, as far as I can tell. In those instances, we'll just have to revert to what is now the standard method of having a player actively make the request.

But if dealers consistently did as I describe, and if this procedure were standardized throughout all poker rooms, I think that we would gradually see a change in player behavior toward what I think should be the norm: a player who wants to show his cards does so by tabling them face up, not by flashing them semi-secretively to one selected opponent.

Slowroll??? I think not.

As you may have gathered, I've been back to the felt since Friday, after a week off, and things pretty much feel back to normal. Three wins and one loss so far, a ratio I'm prepared to accept. We'll see if it lasts.

I played at Caesars Palace tonight. My entire profit for the session came in one hand--literally. I was about $30 down from my initial buy-in when it occurred, and I left shortly after it had taken place.

I was the second one to limp, holding the 5c-7c. The button raised to $12. I had been playing with him for a couple of hours, and I knew that he was tight but not very good, that he was completely straightforward, and that he routinely overplayed his top-pair kind of hands. The pot swelled when one of the blinds and the other limper called. Except for the fact that I would have to play before the raiser, it was an excellent crAAKKer kind of situation.

The situation became even more excellent when the flop came 5-7-5. It was checked around to the button, who bet $60. That was nearly half of what he had left--I liked this because he might feel pot-committed and give me the rest. I was pretty sure he had a big overpair, because he had shown a tendency to get timid with A-K kinds of hands, especially against more than one opponent, when he missed the flop. The blind folded. To my surprise, the other limper moved all-in for about $235. I had about $260 left. I called. The button mucked in great disgust.

The dealer put out the turn and river, which I think were a ten and jack. The other guy still hadn't shown his cards. Then he said, "I've got a pair," but did nothing else. When I didn't react to that, he flipped over a 7 without looking to see which one it was. That left the possibility that he had pocket 7s, and was playing cruel with me. I didn't really think so, because I don't think he would have check-raised all-in with a hand that big; I think he would have just called, to avoid risking losing me. Also, before he showed the 7, I knew it was entirely possible that he had had pocket tens or jacks, and had gotten extremely lucky after the money was in. Rightly or wrongly, based on his previous play and table talk during hands, I judged him to be among that small group of experienced players who are capable and willing to deliberately miscall their hands--in this case saying that he had a pair when his hand was actually a full house, to be sure that he got to see my cards before showing the winner.

But what was on my mind more than the possibility that I had run into a massive cooler or suckout, more than the possibility that he was angle-shooting me, was my ongoing disgust with players who have a pathological aversion to ever showing their cards, even when the duty devolves upon them to do so. They wait, hesitate, fake the reveal, say what they have, maybe show one card--all in an effort to pressure the other guy to show first. This is horrible etiquette, annoying as hell, and wastes everybody's time. It's a rude, selfish way to behave. It's a dick move. If you are in this subclass of player, you're a dick.

I have writtten about this conduct at least twice before, most recently here (with an unusually lively and interesting debate in the comments following) and here (again with good discussion in the comments). Despite vigorous disagreement from some people who I like and respect, I stand by my view that the game is better served in the long run by players banding together to refuse to tolerate this despicable, unethical practice.

So, in accordance with this strongly held view, I just stared at him and sat and waited for him to show or muck. Mucking didn't seem very likely, since he was obviously not on a total bluff and wouldn't want to pass up the chance at taking a roughly $580 pot. Finally he rolled over his other card--an ace. I then immediately showed the winner and began stacking the chips.

As I was doing so, a woman who hadn't been involved in the hand said, with a distinctly sarcastic tone, "Slow-rolling with the nuts. Nice."

I ignored her. I did not feel like getting into a debate about rules and etiquette with her or anybody else. But I resent the charge, so I'll answer it here.

I did not slowroll. First, I didn't know for sure whether I had the winner. More importantly, though, the prescribed order of showdown was him first, me second. As soon as he either showed or mucked, I was prepared to do my part and either show or muck. Any delay in getting the hands shown was on his head, because my response was instant, as soon as he fulfilled his obligation.

There are times when I will just show regardless of the obligation being on the other guy. Factors that will push me in that direction include:

• I have a completely unbeatable hand.
• The game's atmosphere is unusually light and playful.
• I'm in an especially good mood.
• The opponent is clearly new to casino poker and doesn't seem to understand the showdown rules and etiquette.
• The opponent is a straightforward player and I already have a pretty good idea of what he is holding.
• The opponent is somebody I have some reason to like, either from an outside relationship or because we have been chatty and friendly during the game. (Don't smirk--it does happen once in a while!)

There's no formula to this decision, no magical combination of factors that will automatically prompt me to take the initiative; it's just a feel thing. But when I do it, it is a courtesy, not an obligation. And the one thing that will absolutely preclude me extending somebody this courtesy is him being a dick who is clearly experienced enough to know better, and is just stalling, trying to transfer the monkey to my back. No chance, pal. We'll sit here all night if that's what it's going to take, and the more you try to wriggle out of what you know the rules require you to do, the more I'm going to dig in my heels and defy you.

You think you're stubborn? Buddy, you haven't even SEEN stubborn yet. Bring on the stares and impatient comments from the other players. Let the dealer plead with me to reveal my cards, or even issue a direct command to do so. Nothing doing. Not gonna happen. The foundations of the casino will crumble from decay and vines will encircle all of us before I'm turning over my hand to the smug satisfaction of a non-showing douchebag. And even that would just be getting the contest underway. I will sit there until the sun burns itself down to a dark lump of iron, and then keeping sitting there, my cards firmly capped, until we see the coming of the very heat death of the universe, before I will yield in such a test of wills. "To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."

(Did I mention something here recently about occasionally getting overly dramatic?)

To the woman at the table, I say this: You were wrong. I did not slowroll. I simply waited for when it was my turn to show. Your venom was directed at the innocent party rather than the guilty one. Maybe you should find a good poker blog to read that would keep you informed of how things are supposed to work at the tables.



Incidentally, this story had an amusing coda. The button was kind of a jerk all night, and this hand really set him off. He began berating me--not for the slight delay of game at the end, but for having called his pre-flop raise with such a terrible hand. "Nice call!" (Dripping with sarcasm.) "Next time I have a big pair, I'm gonna raise to $30. See if you call that." (OK, pal, you want to risk $30 to win $4 in blinds, be my guest.)

In short, hilarity ensued.

The essence of what Grange calls a crAAKKer hand is one that can make a hand to beat a big pair (straight or flush or set, usually) in a sneaky, under-the-radar kind of way, precisely because there are players who just won't consider the possibility that an opponent played so "badly" as to call a sizeable pre-flop raise with "that kind of trash." I have written a bunch of times about making big scores with junk against opponents who just can't fold an overpair, no matter how much evidence you give them that they're beat. See, e.g., here, here, and here as just a sampling of such stories. Neither Grange or I were exactly the original inventors of this route to poker winning. It was the revealing of precisely this kind of play--when conventional wisdom said to wait for big pairs and big aces--that got Doyle Brunson's fellow road warriors mad at him when he first published Super/System, and forever changed how the game is played.

Frankly, I don't see what the guy was complaining about. The other player's action of check-raising all-in made it relatively easy for him to fold. I'd say he got off pretty cheap!

Nastiest slowroll ever

Watch the video here:

http://pokerati.com/2010/01/14/two-controversial-hands-from-the-pca/

I'd kick this team out of the tournament for such horribly unethical, unsportsmanlike conduct, if I were in charge of things.

Showing just one

It's easy to understand how some habits that are either against the rules or considered bad form in casinos get established: they grow in home games in which such conduct is accepted or even encouraged. One of the home-game tournament series in which my friend Cardgrrl plays regularly, and at which I joined her for a couple of sessions in October, is player-dealt; without a dedicated dealer, each player is responsible for making his or her own change for bets from the pot. Players get used to doing this, come to a casino for the first time, assume that the same procedure applies, and are suprised when they get their hand slapped by the dealer. Similarly, many home games have little or no effective ban on talking about the hand in progress, and veterans of those games tend to be surprised when other players or dealers object to them announcing out loud what cards they folded, or speculating about what cards people are holding.

But there are some habits the origins of which I have a hard time understanding. The one that I've been thinking about lately is the ugly tendency to show just one of the two down cards when called on the final round of betting.

I was playing Saturday at Harrah's, my first venture out into the world after surving hantavirus, or whatever the hell it was that had me down all last week. (I picked Harrah's because I needed less than one more hour to qualify for Platinum status there. I made it, and picked up my spiffy new card on the way out.) I picked up A-K offsuit in late position, and raised to, I think, $12. Two callers: the big blind plus a limper. Flop was K-x-x, with no flush or straight draws. They both checked to me. I bet $25. Woman in the big blind called, other guy folded. Turn was an apparent blank. She checked to me again. I bet $45. She called. River was yet another blank, as far as I could tell. Suddenly the big blind took charge and bet $50. I didn't think that she had been slow-playing a set or other big hand, based on both body language and the betting pattern. She couldn't have been chasing a draw, so I had the sinking feeling that she had been playing a weak king and hit a lucky two pair on the river. But with top pair/top kicker, and a $50 call to maybe win a $225 pot, a call seemed virtually automatic--so that's what I did.

My opponent at this point peeked at her cards again, picked the one she wanted to show, and turned over a king. She then stared at me, waiting, apparently, for me to do something. Well, what I did was stare right back at her. I didn't feel like telling her that she was obligated to either show her hand or muck it. I assumed that she would figure out soon enough that I wasn't going to budge. It took ten seconds or so, plus another playing prodding her with, "He called you, so you have to show first," before she finally turned over her other card--a 5 (which did not pair the board). I then showed my winner.

To get back to my original point, are there really home games in which this is considered adequate, in which a player can expect that showing one card will be accepted by the other players if it's enough to win? In this situation, if I didn't have a hand that beat her top pair, would she really expect me to muck without seeing both of her cards in whatever home game she came from? (I should add that from her chip-shuffling dexterity and conversation about strategy, it was clear that she had a decent amount of experience playing the game, though I have no way of knowing if this was her first time in a casino or her thousandth.)

I just have a hard time believing that home games are routinely so casual on this point. Don't those involved (1) want more information about what their opponents are playing, and (2) understand that the rule serves game integrity by helping to ensure that the winner has a valid hand (i.e., no fouled deck, such as two of the same card, and the right number of hole cards)? Those of you with more experience in home games, I'd appreciate sharing in the comments what you have observed.

But now a digression on the etiquette of the matter.

In July I ranted about the seemingly increasing trend for players, when called on the river, to not show their cards, but instead start asking the caller what he has. This is just another variation on the same theme. Yet another variation is the angle-shooter who tries to never show unless he has the winner; these dirtbags will take advantage of the fact that sooner or later many opponents will feel the social pressure for somebody to reveal a hand, and wait to see what the caller has before mucking a loser or showing a winner. Although motivations and the exact technique vary, it's all pretty much the same to me. It all amounts to an ugly violation of both rules and etiquette.

I recounted this incident to Cardgrrl the day it happened. Although mildly sympathetic, she was of the opinion that I was making too much of it. She suggested that another way of handling the situation was just to show and be done with it, without worrying about forcing one's opponent to comply with the rules first. In essence: It's a showdown, so just show and get it over with.

There is, I must admit, some merit to this approach: 1. You are never the cause of the game being delayed. 2. You never accidentally muck the winner by misreading your own hand, your opponent's hand, or the board. 3. You never cause resentment in others.

But there are downsides, too. 1. You give away information unnecessarily. 2. You encourage the dirtbags and angle-shooters to continue their irritating and/or slimy ways. 3. You fail to gain information on your opponents' play to which you are rightly entitled, and which might be valuable.

On that last point, consider what this woman's final bet told me, once she had revealed her cards. First, I learned that she's a bad enough player to think that it was smart to take K-5 offsuit, from out of position, up against a raise from a player she had to know was tight and solid, and, furthermore, to call bets with it on the flop and turn.

More subtly, though, I learned that she has enough understanding of strategy to deploy a blocking or defensive bet--which is what I think we have to conclude her river $50 was. She understood that if I had a medium-strength hand, it would be hard for me to raise her, and a smallish bet such as she made might cost her less than checking and calling whatever I might choose to bet there (and she might well feel obligated to make the crying call with top pair). If I raised her, she could then confidently conclude she was beat and fold. It was a pretty smart move, because I indeed might have bet bigger than $50, but couldn't raise with just one pair in that spot.

It was a weird juxtaposition--this apparently moderately sophisticated river bet, combined with a willingness to play a hand a good player should have known to throw away from the get-go. And those were both useful pieces of information that I would have missed out on if I had just accepted her one-card-show.

Against Cardgrrl's position, there's also this argument from analogy: We have the rule in this country that you drive on the right-hand side of the road. Once in a while, somebody comes along going the wrong way into traffic, because they think it's one-way their way, or they're drunk or otherwise confused, or maybe suicidal, or maybe they just think it's a free country and they can drive wherever they want to. We could all just choose to ignore it, swerve around them and continue on our way. But there is obviously great social utility in forcing compliance with this rule. For that reason, I'm glad that we have police that will forcibly arrest those who fail to comply, and a judicial system that will sort out and variously deal with different levels of intentionality/culpability.

Similarly, there is considerable social utility to the standard protocol for the order of showdown in poker. Yes, one could just tolerate and excuse/forgive the occasional nonconformer, with the attitude that there are bigger things to worry about. But I think there is a greater, long-term good served by making sure that all players understand the rules of the road and abide by them, and that driving on the wrong side is not OK. There is an established protocol for order of showdown, and everybody's interests are best served by having everybody correctly and efficiently abide by it. Of course, there's no need to go throwing people in jail for first offenses here; obviously, some players really are just new and don't understand. I'm all in favor of kind, gentle education for such. For the deliberate offenders, though, tasering is in order, at the very least.

I can't object to those who, like Cardgrrl, choose to disregard the violations and just conduct themselves in a completely unobjectionable way without regard for what others do. But I think it is better for the game in the long run if we make clear to all that conformity with the rules and etiquette will be required.

Was I a dirtbag?

At Planet Hollywood tonight I took advantage of another player's mistake, to my profit. Of course, most of the money one makes at poker can be classified that way, but this was different enough that I'm feeling a bit squeamish about it in retrospect, and not sure whether I should be ashamed of myself.

Situation in brief: Heads-up in a small pot. Because my opponent bets small, I check-call both the flop and turn, hoping to make my straight. Sure enough, the river brings me the stone-cold nuts. I'm out of position. Do I bet or try for a check-raise? The question just boils down to whether I think he will fire again if I check to him.

I'm thinking about this, and have just decided that he's most likely to check behind, so I need to value bet. But just as I'm about to reach for some chips, he tosses $10 forward, out of turn. I had not checked, had not made any movement that was either calculated to look like a check or might reasonably be interpreted as such. It's just that I took a lot longer than he had gotten used to from my checks on the flop and turn (or at least that's my best guess as to what caused his misfire).

I said, "I haven't acted yet." He apologizes and pulls back the $10.

Well, I know that action out of turn will be binding if when it is his turn the action has not changed. That is, if I check, he is now committed to betting the $10. So I said, "OK, I check."

He then checked, too. The dealer alertly and correctly told him that he could not check, that he had to put out his $10 bet again. He did so. I then check-raised to $25. He called, saw my hand, mucked, and looked seriously disgusted.


What's perfectly clear is that I did nothing against the rules. Furthermore, I did nothing to encourage or entice his error. I wasn't even taking more time than I needed hoping that he would act prematurely. (It was maybe 10 seconds.) It hadn't even occurred to me that this might happen. But I did unequivocally and deliberately take advantage of the situation once he had made his mistake. It was a snap decision, made without time to reflect. If I had wanted to be nice to him, I could have bet the $10 for him. He might have folded, might have called. Heck, he might have even raised, though that seems unlikely. Alternatively, I could have checked then just called the $10 he had to bet.

So, dear readers, what say you? Did I pull a sleazy, slimy move? Was it unethical? Would you have done the same thing?


I can tell you that although I likely gained an extra $15 profit from the hand as a result, I'm not sure that it was smart strategically. He was two seats to my left, and we had had a decent rapport before this happened, and it completely soured the mood. Mike Caro repeats endlessly that you have to keep the atmosphere at the table light and sociable, avoid letting people see that you're serious about taking their money, be the person that is the most fun to lose to. I'm sure he would disapprove of what I did--and it's certainly possible that it cost me more money over the next couple of hours than it made me, if it alerted both my opponent and other players that they needed to be more wary of me than they had been. There's just no way to know that. But it's a legitimate consideration, independent of the ethics of what happened.

What is so hard to grasp about the SHOW part of SHOWdown?

This is not exactly a new phenomenon, but it seems to be increasing in frequency. Or maybe I'm just noticing it more and becoming more disturbed by it.

We're down to the river. Player A bets. Player B calls. The action is over. But Player A, rather than showing his cards as he is supposed to do, starts quizzing Player B about what he has.

This is infuriating to all involved (except, apparently, all of the Player A's of the world). Player B has a right to expect that Player A will either reveal his hand promptly, or muck it if he was running a total bluff and doesn't want to show. The other players at the table and the dealer have the right to expect that, since the action is now complete, we will quickly and efficiently determine the winner, push the pot, and get on to the next hand.

These perfectly reasonable goals and expectations are frustrated--for NO good reason--when Player A turns into a douchebag and refuses to do the only thing that is required of him at this point, which is show his cards or muck them.

I saw this exactly pattern several times in a session yesterday at the Rio. There's a call, action is done, and the bettor starts in with, "Did you catch the flush?" or "I put you on two pair--that right?" Annoys the bejeebers out of me, even when I'm just a bystander.

With remorse, I have to report that I have even seen my good friend Cardgrrl--usually a paragon of good poker etiquette under even the most trying circumstances--run afoul of this one. It happened at the very end of her June visit, during a $2-$5 cash game at the Rio. She had 9-9, flopped top set, and bet it all the way. She had one caller on the river for her final all-in bet. By that point, there was an ugly potential straight on the board, which this opponent well might have been chasing. When the guy called the all-in, rather than flip her hand up, she asked him, "Do you have a straight?" It was only when he shook his head "no" that she showed the set of nines (which, by the way, turned out to be the winner of the biggest pot I've ever seen her take--a profit of $670 on the hand). I was as stunned as if she had slow-rolled an opponent with the nuts. It was the first and only time I've seen her violate standard poker etiquette. My guess is that it was the enormous size of the pot that was causing heightened anxiety about the outcome, and thus short-circuiting her usual impeccable habits.

Anyway, this conduct is wrong. It is rude. It wastes everybody's time, and increases the unpleasant feeling of suspense that the caller is already feeling. It increases resentment between the players involved. And for what gain? Because Player A is embarrassed about his hand? Well, if you're embarrassed, maybe you shouldn't have played it in the first place. Is it because Player A wants to maximize the chance of seeing B's hand to get a better read on him, and thus stalls, hoping that B will show first? That's just smarmy. The bettor shows first, and it is the caller who then has the option of showing or mucking. When you turn it around, you screw up the universal and perfectly sensible order of things.

And in doing so, you piss people off. You piss off Player B. You piss off the other players who want to get the game going again. You piss off the dealer, who wants to get as many hands out per down as possible. All for your own selfish indulgence.

As I said at the outset, my subjective impression is that this particular piece of bad sportsmanship has been increasing lately. It seems that players see other people do it, decide it's a good idea, and adopt it into their own play. Well, I'm here to tell you that it's NOT a good idea, and not only should you not mimic it, you should speak up in protest when it happens. You should let the Player A's of the world know that you resent their breach of the rules and of etiquette, and their selfish wasting of nine or ten other people's time.

In my opinion, every time this happens, the guilty party should receive unmistakably disapproving looks and comments from every other player at the table. Let these people know that this is not acceptable conduct. It is not cute or clever. It is a rude, unnecessary imposition on everybody, and we should not let it go without disparaging comment. Basically, we have to make the negative social pressure against the practice intense enough that it will come to outweigh whatever selfish internal motive is driving these jerks. (I hasten to add that Cardgrrl is not a jerk, nor any of the other nasty names that I think the habitual offenders deserve. It was, as far as I can tell, a one-time aberration.)

Will you join me in my campaign of explicit disapprobation of the Player A's of the poker world?

Bad sportsmanship

There was a small, unusual incident yesterday in the final day of the World Series of Poker Event #3, $1500 Omaha High/Low. As reported by PokerNews:

Freddy Gets Irritated

From under the gun, Pascal Leyo limped. Robert Price raised behind him
and Freddy Deeb called. Thang Luu called from later position as well and then
when action got back to Leyo, he called.

The flop came down 10c 7s 3d. Leyo checked and Price bet out. Deeb called and then
Luu raised. Leyo tanked for a couple minutes and then folded. Price called the
raise as did Deeb.

The turn brought the 9d and everyone checked. After the river came the Jd, Price
led with a bet and only Deeb called.

"Ship it!" exclaimed Price as he tabled Ad Kd 9h 2c. Deeb didn't muck right away, but held his cards as he studied the board. The dealer scooped up the community
cards and began to muck them, but Deeb insisted he put them back because he
wanted to study them to see how everyone played the hand. The floor staff
corrected the dealer and made him put the cards back on the felt.

When he did so, Jordan Rich chimed in, "Just muck already."

"I don't want to muck." said Deeb. Another few seconds went by and then
Freddy released his hand and moved on.

Several things are unclear from this account that might be obvious had one been there. For example, how long was Deeb taking? What's clear, though, is that Deeb must have known almost instantly that Price had the nuts, and that with no low possible, he (Deeb) could take no portion of the pot.

It is certainly legitimate, though not commonly seen, for a player to want to look at the board cards and his opponent's tabled hand long enough to reconstruct what happened in the hand--what did the guy have and what was he thinking in every betting round, etc. But I have a hard time believing that a player as vastly experienced as Freddy Deeb needs more than maybe three to five seconds to absorb and process that information. Heck, I've probably played less than 0.1% of the Omaha/8 hands that Deeb has, and I can usually do it in ten seconds or so, once I have opened the PokerStars replay window so that I can see all the cards.

If I'm right about Deeb's experience and analytical powers, then he was not telling the truth about his reason for withholding his cards. He even went so far as to make the floor person come over and instruct the dealer to put the board cards back up. That is an extraordinary gesture, one that I've never seen. (Two exceptions: If there is a dispute about which was actually the winning hand, or when there is a claim of a high-hand jackpot that was not announced with sufficient rapidity. Those are completely different situations than the one here, though.) It is not consistent with his claim of simply wanting to make a mental reconstruction of how the hand played out. If his card memory were that poor, he could never make it playing stud games--yet he is a HORSE tournament champion and a regular participant in mixed cash games where stud variants are in the rotation.

I think the obvious inference is that Deeb was just being a snot. The most likely reason, in addition to losing the hand, was an adverse reaction to Price's "Ship it!"

If Deeb thinks such outbursts are obnoxious, I'm with him. They are. They are rude, unnecessary, pointless, offensive, arrogant, immature, and inconsiderate. Taunting one's opponent or rubbing his face in his loss is bad for the game and a sign of a generally boorish and antisocial personality. It is always wrong. I had never heard of Price before this event began, but from this one incident I'm prepared to conclude that he is an unpleasant jerk that has a lot of growing up to do. (It troubles me that from his photos (see here and here) it looks like he's about my age, not somebody for whom youthful exuberance and general life inexperience could at least serve as a flimsy excuse for bad behavior. Worse, he looks a lot like me. I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a guy that would act like him.)

But you don't handle jerkitude by returning it in kind--especially when doing so adversely affects every other person at the table (players and dealer alike) by wasting everybody's time. The clock is ticking. If I'm right that Deeb's true motivation was returning the needle, he was just as out of line as Price was, and arguably more. He got down in the mud with Price, rather than keeping himself above it. (I was about to say "rather than standing tall." But there is a limit to how much "standing tall" a guy like Deeb can do. I say this as a 5'7" relative shorty myself.)

Shame on both of them for unbecoming conduct.


By the way, I couldn't tell if the title of the PokerNews blog post was or was not a deliberate reference to the movie "Freddy Got Fingered." My guess is probably not. If it was intended to be, it was too subtle to have the desired effect. Better might have been something like "Freddy Almost Got the Finger."