The best part about being a poker professional is waking up whenever your body decides it's ready to wake up. I literally never realized what it felt like to be fully rested for the first 24 years of my life- this is 100% true no exaggeration. Once I quit my nine to five, holy crap I felt like I was, you know, actually awake when I was technically awake because looking back, I sure as hell never felt awake when I was working full time. And by sure as hell, I mean sure as science, because hell is pretty goddamned uncertain.
Today I woke up at 2 PM. Plenty of time to shower and miss the Los Angeles rush hour which means I get to drive 30 mph (if I'm lucky) on the freeway instead of 5 mph. So yea anyway I catch up on my favorite blogs at leisurely pace while my roommate gets ready, and soon enough we're off to go print money at the Bicycle Casino.
Another great part about poker is the freedom to live almost anywhere you want. In just the past year alone I’ve called quite a few places home including Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Miami, Tampa Bay, Hong Kong, Macau, and my hometown, Little Rock.
When I arrive I see the same security guard who I've seen there every day this week- and yes, I've been to the casino every day this week. What can I say, I love my job- play a game I love while socializing with a diverse crowd of people. Anyway this fricking guy insists I show my ID to him again, despite my appeal for him to recall our encounter yesterday. He makes up an excuse that he has to ID anyone who looks young even if he knows me because there's a bunch of cameras watching him and he wants to keep his job.
It's OK man you can just say you don't remember. I won't be offended, I'm very aware of the fact that I wasn't given the gift of striking, memorable physical features at birth. Unlucky? Nope not at all, because I *was* given the gift of functional eyes, ears, and legs. Given how many people weren't so lucky, how can I possibly complain?
There are roughly a thousand poker players at the Bike today spread over a ton of tables, each with a maximum of 9 people per table. However, the vast majority of these tables are low stakes games filled with recreational players who either don’t want to risk or don’t have a lot of money. It’s impossible to make a decent living by winning in these games simply because there’s not enough money to be won. So despite the crowded casino, there are really only 5 tables that I’m really taking into consideration as a poker professional.
Poker players are primarily divided into two types: professional players and recreational players. Pros are there to make money, recs are there to have fun. Our job as pros is primarily to just be there, and ensure that the recreational player can feel comfortable showing up at a casino any hour, any day and he will be able to play poker. Good poker pros also treat recs like our friends, our customers- we depend on them for our livelihood, meaning we depend on them coming back, meaning we depend on them having a good time.
Sometimes the best table choice is a relaxing, simple game filled with mediocre recs and no other pros. Sometimes it’s a game with a couple other pros but very bad recs. As I assess the tables today though, there is one clear choice- a high stakes game with only 4 players, 3 of whom are pros and only 1 of whom is a rec. However the rec isn’t just any average rec- he is a whale.
Poker tables are often likened to ponds where the sharks (pros) feed on the fish (recs). In shark-infested waters, the biggest shark can theoretically feed off the smaller sharks if it absolutely has to, but it’s not easy, desirable, or even sustainable. Sharks can really only survive by feeding off either a bunch of small fish, a medium amount of medium-sized fish, or perhaps just one massive whale that can singlehandedly sustain several sharks.
The whale in this game is James. He’s not like our usual whales though, kings with millions upon millions of dollars who are more than happy to lose a few thousand a week to their jesters in exchange for a good show. James isn’t a king though, he’s a degenerate gambler who happens to have a lot of cash on hand today- a rare Christmas gift. I would venture a guess that he gets maybe a thousand dollar paycheck every couple weeks and takes as much as he can straight to the casino every time. Today he's telling a story about how he ran $1000 up to $21,000 yesterday. Good for him, except now he's going to be buying in to even bigger games, and this guy’s poker skills are horrendous. It's possible he'll win today, it’s possible he’ll win tomorrow, but knowing James, it's almost certain he'll be broke and on the verge of tears within the next couple weeks.
James won $20,000 yesterday. That's probably like half a year's pay for the guy. He could really improve his life with that if he swore off casinos. Is it unethical to bankrupt this guy? Should I try to explain to him he has a gambling addiction? No, I can’t. I have myself as well as my peers to look out for. If I were to ever to start telling James how he’d probably be happier if he quit poker, everyone else at the table would be staring daggers at me, wondering why the hell am I trying to cancel Christmas. "The man’s having fun, let him do what he wants”. The problem is James doesn't know what he really wants. He thinks he gets his jollies through these massive degenerate highs and lows, but he really doesn't. The highs are high, but the lows- the INEVITABLE lows- are soul-crushing.
Truthfully though, it wouldn’t matter at all even if I were to try to do James a favor. There's basically a 0% chance he would listen to me. In general, no one likes taking advice from people younger than them, and in general, no one should ever take advice from anyone else at a casino. Since I know he's going to lose that money anyway, might as well let it be to me. So instead, I just focus my attention on making him laugh.
Rewind several years. I’m trying my best to comfort a college girl who thought her life was over when her boyfriend left her. At first I try to explain to her how basically 100% of people go through that stage in their life where you think you know yourself better than anyone else, but you realize you’re wrong when you get older. After I get started though, I realize there’s like a 0% chance she’s going to believe that- I definitely wouldn’t back when I was in her shoes. Instead, I just focus my attention on making her laugh.
Fast forward several hours. The table has filled to a full 9 players with a fairly long waitlist once people see how poorly James is playing for sizeable amounts of money. For the 4th time, James loses his $1000 buy-in. At this point he’s lost about $4000 when he counts the rest of his money and decides to save it for another day, which is actually a wiser decision than most would make in his spot. I didn’t get too much this Christmas, only being up $200 for the day- well below my expected dollars per hour. I can’t really complain though, as one of the other very good sharks lost $5000 today due to variance. As James leaves the table, a couple of the less respectful players also immediately leave. I stick around and play some small pots for another half an hour or so, mostly out of politeness to disguise the fact that I’m really only interested in playing with James, but also with a small shred of hope that James will come back in full-blown gamble mode.
Poker is an extremely complex game that requires intense concentration, mathematical prowess, logical reasoning abilities, understanding of the human psyche, and most importantly of all, discipline. It's a game that a professional player, a student of the game who studies the intricacies day in and day out, will always have some advantage over a recreational player who plays for fun. However, the biggest profits in poker lies not in the fact that a grandmaster of the game can beat a mere master, but in the fact that poker is, at the base, a gambling game. A poker professional is attuned to the gambling nature of the game; we call it variance. We’ve lost thousands in a day and won thousands in a day countless times, so it doesn’t- well, shouldn’t- affect our mental state, it’s just part of the game. We can only do our best to continue to make the right decisions, knowing we'll win money in the long run. However, when a recreational player loses a thousand bucks or so, they might view it as a couple weeks paycheck, a months rent, and be desperate to win it back. They think it's "their" money when in reality it no longer is- and the nature of poker allows that desperation to fester. When someone just wants to get back to even, they may be willing to get their money in as a 45% to 55% underdog. 9 out of 20 times doesn't sound that bad to the desperate man, he's willing to take it- what he doesn't realize is if he's risking his $1000 stack to be a 45% underdog to win $2000, he's losing $100 on average every time he does so. Of course the effects of this aren't truly apparent- especially if he happens to win the first few times!- but after doing this day after day, eventually hundreds of times, he'll have expected to have donated tens of thousands of dollars.
As time passes, it becomes apparent that James probably isn’t coming back today. As I go to cash out, I make a mental note to get to the casino early tomorrow so I’m there when he shows up, as his extra cash definitely won’t last long.