I Call

I'm not a poker player, but I know many of you reading this think you are.

Today, thousands if not millions of people around the world consider themselves poker players. A mere five years ago, that number was significantly lower. Five years ago, poker for most of us consisted of some kind of draw game, played in our mother’s kitchens with the Jokers and other wildcards in play, and most likely was contested with pennies or matchsticks. Now, millions of people play in tournaments of various formats and games in lush casinos for high stakes every single day.

So where did all the poker players come from all of a sudden? Was there a large, untapped population of poker players that simply didn't know they were poker players? Or is something else going on?

With the explosion in popularity of Texas Hold 'Em --- due to television coverage, celebrity games, and online programs --- there aren't too many donkeys, fish, dead money, call stations that don't fancy themselves poker players these days. Now in and of itself, this dynamic is fine, but the main problem with it is, there aren't too many donkeys, fish, dead money, call stations that don't fancy themselves poker players these days.

It goes like this:

I learned how to play poker when I was a kid. We played all different types of poker games, including the old standards, Five-Card Draw and Seven-Card Stud. About 20 years ago I learned how to play Texas Hold 'Em, and I've played in home games, neighborhood games, and in tournaments on occasion the entire time.

But you know what? I'm not a poker player.

I can't call myself a poker player simply because I occasionally have cards in front of me, and I bet on them. I can't call myself a poker player for that, any more than I can call myself a baseball player because I throw a ball around and go to the batting cages every once in a while. Or any more than I can call myself a chef because I make a mean stuffed chicken breast and my rice doesn't clump together too badly. Or any more than I can call myself a musician because I can make an E cord on my guitar and strum it until my fingers blister. Or any more than I can call myself a heterosexual because I enjoy having sex with women and . . . wait . . . scratch that last one.

The point is, I play poker, but I'm not a poker player. And unless you're Doyle Brunson, Johnny Chan, Chris Ferguson, or one of their contemporaries, neither are you. So stop fooling yourself. Stop insisting that you're a poker player.

Hey, you might have hit a crazy streak of luck and won a tournament or two in your life. You might have even won a major tournament (hell, it's happened more than once in the World Series of Poker Main Event), but when you win because you call every bet holding Q7 and outdraw your opponent, you're still not a poker player. You're damn lucky you survived one hand, but you're not a poker player.

By the way, if you don't know what I mean by "call every bet holding a Q7 and outdraw your opponent" don't worry. Neither did these donkeys that fancy themselves poker players, until they read a book. And that's a good way to tell if the chump sitting next to you at the table is a wannabe. He's for sure read all the books, and he'll no doubt quote them, or at the very least, play exactly how the book says he should play. Soon he'll be eliminated, out of money, off your table, and still professing to be a poker player. But if he's read a poker book, he's a fish, just like you and me.

You see, the books on poker are written by, you guessed it, poker players. Real poker players. They'll offer up basic strategies, and teach you a few gaffs to run in certain situations, but think about the overall concept of poker players writing poker books. Would a poker player --- a person who counts on winning to survive --- teach potential opponents everything he or she knows about the game?

Well of course not.

Besides, it's impossible to teach someone to be a poker player in the first place. It's like trying to teach tall. It can't be done. Oh, you can teach the basics, and you can help hone skills. You can brush up on odds, and betting strategies, and even the most common tells. But you can't teach someone to be a poker player.

Poker players are developed far from the poker tables. Poker players live their lives processing input from every element of their environment over and over again, until they are able to analyze limited sets of information well enough to make good decisions. Then they play about a million hands. That's the way it works. And it's not something most of them have deliberately trained for, so you book readers don't go thinking you can formulate a training regimen based on what I just told you.

I know, I know. On TV, it looks so easy. You sit there and watch those televised poker tournaments, and you pride yourself on making the right calls, and the right raises, and the right folds. You're obviously slopping over with talent, right? You're a natural-born card sharp, right?

Wrong!

On TV, YOU CAN SEE THE CARDS! Televised poker is not even the same game for the viewer that it is for the participant. It's a tea party to the viewer. It's a field loaded with freaking land mines to the player.

Well, you say you've played about a million hands online, and that alone is enough to make you a poker player, right?

Rubbish.

No, it's not rubbish that you played that many hands. Hell, online poker is very popular, and I know millions of people play. Playing that many hands is not unusual. But the experience you garner playing online can be classified as rubbish.

Online poker is a volume business. Online gaming companies don't care about having good card players. They only care about having lots of card players. The more players, the more money they make. Same goes for casinos.

But there's a difference.

Casinos want as many players playing on their tables as space will allow. Online games virtually have no limit to the number of players they can accommodate, and therefore no limit to the number of rakes they can pull. They want more and more people to log on, because that means more money.

Now most online games profess that their programs feature a random card generator, but I've played online a few times, and each time I was very surprised at how many aces came out on the flop. And I can't begin to tell you how many flushes and straights I counted, not to mention full houses. It seemed to me that the action was quick and constant, which is perfect, if your goal is to attract and keep people at your site. Keep the table hot, and avoid the boredom and tedium that can set in during live tournaments.

I'm not making any allegations here, I'm just saying . . .

So the online games are made up of mostly novices, and the rest of the folks there are the donks that call off every bet until they draw something to beat you or get eliminated. Beating a group like that doesn't make you a poker player.

Poker players love people who fancy themselves poker players. Next time you play in a real tournament or in a real cash game, sit down and say loudly, "Hi, my name is So and So, and I'm a poker player". Watch the people when you say that. The ones whose eyes light up are the ones who are about to take your money.

Pros dream of having people who fancy themselves poker players sitting at their tables. And as bad a player as I am, I like it, too --- the more deluded jerkwads around me, the better my chances of winning some money.

I just hope that eventually, the fish that think they're starring in Rounders will get their noses out of the air they believe to be rarified and smell the crap poker they're playing, so I don't take such perverse pleasure in seeing them lose their shirts.

Oh, who am I kidding? I cherish the perverse pleasure I take in seeing them lose their shirts.