The Poker Corner

Life, we’re told, is an endless struggle. And here in the US of A, competition is practically a religion. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, people, so sharpen those fangs. When we want something, when we’re striving to attain some impossible dream, it goes against common sense to help those trying to STOP us from succeeding. Bill Belichek is not going to run out on the field to advise Ben Roethlisberger on how to look off the free safety. Jennifer Aniston is not going to run up her long-distance bill chatting with Angelina Jolie about what it takes to make Brad Pitt happy in the boudoir.

So why is it that so many poker players act go out of their way to help terrible players who, well, play terribly? And by this I mean players who, after they’ve taken a bad beat, think it’s smart to harangue the beater about how STUPID they just played that hand. It happens all the time, especially when some numbnut playing 9-3 offsuit cracks pocket aces. YOUR pocket aces.

I mean, you sit at the table all day, hour after hour, you’ve never seen such garbage, and you finally get a hand, THE hand, pocket rockets. You raise, and that 20-watt-bulb who keeps scratching his crotch calls. The flop comes queen high, you bet, he calls. An innocuous three on the turn, and this time you check, knowing he’ll bet because he always bets, and you nail him with the check-raise. He calls. A nine on the river, you bet, he thinks about it, scratches his troublesome testicle, and calls.

It’s when he turns over his cards, and you see how horrible his play was, and how unfair the Poker Gods have been to you, that the chain-reaction starts. First with your eyes, which grow wide with incomprehension. Then the stomach, as a pint of acid is poured within. The muscles in your legs clench, as though ready for a spring at that bastard’s throat. And then here comes the heat, the all-over body flush that helps explain why players who suffer a bad beat are said to be “steaming”.

How you react when you’re steaming will go a long way to determining if you’re going to be a successful poker player. If your reaction is to go home, gather up your arsenal, and then head back to turn the card room into the lead story on CNN, this is bad. When you've played a hand as skillfully as it can be played, and the mouth-breather across the table hits his three-outer after calling raises on the flop and turn, it's perfectly natural to want that person to die. Just an hour previous the gentleman sitting across from you was just another face in the crowd, yet now here you are imagining him being scrambled like an omelet in some kind of industrial accident. You could gladly push him in front of a bus, then go home and eat a big dinner.

Most people don’t have such an overtly homicidal reaction when they lose to a horrible player, but most also don’t handle ridiculous losses like the proverbial cucumber. You’re pissed. You have a right to be pissed. And if you can’t raise your hand in anger, you sure as shootin’ can open your mouth.

Table tirades come in a variety of flavors. Some of the most popular include:

THE LECTURE: "There's no way you can play that hand that way. No way. No WAY. No. No way. You cannot…you cannot play…8-5 offsuit…in early position…that way. No. You keep doing that, and you're going to lose all your money. Do you understand that? You are gonna go broke."

THE PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE MUMBLE: "Unreal…that's just…I can't…that's just unbelievable…un-freaking-believable…he plays like that and gets paid off…(theatrical sigh)…what can you do…there's nothing you can do…just unreal..."

THE CRI DU COEUR: "WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME! OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN (slamming of fists on table)!! Why do these donkeys get lucky against me EVERY SINGLE TIME! How can they get away with playing SO BAD!!?"

THE SNIDELY WHIPLASH: "Nice hand. Really. You usually don't see someone call three bets with no hand and no draw after the flop. Nope, usually you see people actually trying to WIN. But not you. Nonono. See, you're playing on a whole different level than the rest of us. You just keep throwing those chips in the pot, and somehow they keep coming back to you. I guess I'm too DUMB to understand the logic behind it. Yup, I'm just TOO FRIGGIN STUPID to make sense of it."

There's little in the human experience as delightful as verbally abusing some clod who has it coming. Ripping someone to pieces, especially in public, can be almost as spiritually cleansing as confession. When the storm has passed, you feel good. And, just as importantly, he feels bad. Once again, yin has balanced yang.

Or has it? Don’t be fooled—if you blow your stack and start yapping at the guy who just skunked you, the outburst is almost guaranteed to be counterproductive. You've lost the hand, you've lost the money—don't compound the issue by losing your dignity or, far worse, making it harder to win those chips back.

If you yell at someone about how awful they just played, something terrible might happen—they might listen to you. They might pause and think, “You know, he’s right. If I don’t hit that nine, I lose a lot of money. From now on, I’m going to think a bit before I bet”.

Under no circumstances do you want your opponents THINKING when they play. You want them playing as horribly as is humanly possible. You WANT them tossing chips in the pot when they’re a 9-1 dog. So the one time they hit, it happens to be against you? Suck it up. Bite your lip, if necessary until it bleeds. Don’t just sit there like a statue—let off a little steam, just enough to release the pressure. Rap the table with your knuckles—lightly, do not crater the felt. Say something like, “Yeah, I was afraid of that nine”. Try to smile without it looking crazed. Stand up. Sit down. Take a deep breath.

As you try to settle down, remember this—if you’re a good poker player, you should be absorbing MORE bad beats than you dish out. You know better than to chase when the odds don’t warrant it. You know when to hold ‘em, but you also know when to fold ‘em. And you know when to listen to good advice, like this quote from Jennifer Harman, who’s only one of the best poker players on the planet:

“When I experience a bad beat, I think of it as overhead. If you own a business, you have to pay your bills, and I consider a bad beat one of my bills. It’s going to happen, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Another reason why you shouldn’t go loco after a tough beat is that in the heat of the moment you might say something you regret. Not so much as an insult, but something that’s going to strip you of your dignity. Screaming “I hope someone kidnaps your daughter!” at a guy who made trips on the river is a bit over-the-top, and will do little to improve your image.

You don’t want to get a reputation as a whiner. Look at Phil Hellmuth—the youngest World Champion ever, holder of nine WSOP bracelets, and yet he’s best known for his temper tantrums. You don’t need that. You don’t need to be a 40-year-old man with a nickname like “Poker Brat” or “Crybaby Asshole”. Be a man. Take your lumps when they come. And, when the time is right, dish them out. Maybe you get hot when you take a bad beat, but chill yourself down by remembering that revenge is a dish best served cold.