April 15, 2010

The Absurdity of Poker

The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.

—Albert Camus, "The Myth of Sisyphus"

Once upon a time, I was a philosophy major, spending my days thinking deep thoughts (my nights were mostly spent drinking beer with friends at the recently closed West End Lounge, thinking less than deep thoughts).  Strangely, when I read my friend Poker Grump's post today, one of those deeply buried philosophy neurons fired across a synapse that escaped those college Jagermeister shots:

Last night I played there [Excalibur]--for the first time in six months--for 5 1/2 hours. The best hand I made was two pair. No trips, no straights, no flushes, no full houses. I had two pair twice, never even top two, winning with it once, losing to a straight the other time. As for starting hands, the only big pair I ever had was K-K, and of course that lost to A-Q when an ace flopped.

I don't even know how one might begin to calculate the odds of that sort of run of near-nothingness, but it seems astronomically improbable.

There's really no way to describe to a non-poker player the feeling of incredible frustration that can build up when you are folding junk hand after junk hand, and when you do get a hand, you either miss the flop or you flop a draw that doesn't get there.  There's a reason poker players refer to "grinding" when talking about long poker sessions, and why they talk about being "card dead" when faced with Poker Grump's situation.

I recently did some random calculating when I was in a card dead slump of my own.  Let's say I average five eight-hour sessions per month (40 hours/month, or 480 hours/year), and four Vegas trips where I average fifty hours per trip (200 hours/year).  Just to be safe, let's round it up to 750 hours a year spent playing poker.  Now, let's assume I see an average of 30-35 hands per hour, which means I probably see roughly 24,000 hands of poker every year, or 2,000 hands per month. So, using the odds for hitting various poker hands, I should expect to see roughly the following hands during the course of a "typical" month:

  • Pocket Aces:  9 times, and one set of aces.
  • Pocket Kings:  9 times, and an ace will flop 2 of those times
  • Pocket Yaks:  9 times, and an overcard will flop 5 of those times (and Yaks will lose every time)
  • Pocket pairs: 118
  • Flopped sets or better (assuming all pocket pairs see the flop): 14
  • Sooooted cards:  480 times
  • Playable sooooted cards:  160 times (estimated; your mileage may vary)
  • Flopped flushes:  4
  • Flopped flush draws:  17
  • Made flushes:  10

The numbers don't lie—poker is going to be a Sisyphean task most sessions.  So why bother playing?  Why go through the tedium, not to mention the agony when your rare good hands lose?  To me, poker is is rewarding precisely because it is a struggle—a struggle to improve your skills, a struggle to beat good opponents, a struggle against your own emotions and doubts, and yes, sometimes, a struggle against Fate itself.  Sitting down at a poker table, winning hand after hand, session after session, might be every poker player's dream, but in reality no player would ever enjoy the game of poker if it were so easy.  Card death, missed flops, bad beats, and suckouts are certainly agonizing, but they make the hot streaks, well-timed bluffs, hero calls, and monster pots all the sweeter.  To enjoy poker, one must suffer.

All Sisyphus' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing.

—Albert Camus, "The Myth of Sisyphus"

For better or worse, poker is my thing.  Because I love the game, I must learn to love the boredom and the painful losses that are part of the game.  Of course, I don't wish too much poker suffering for myself or my poker friends!  As for Poker Grump, when he finally breaks out of this card death slump, I hope he takes the opportunity to rebrand himself as "Poker Zombie" ("Poker Jesus" probably risks a trademark lawsuit or a playing card thrown through the carotid artery).

April 11, 2010

The Metropolitan Ely Invitational Championship

I finally jumped back into poker action for the first time since my return from Vegas three weeks ago. I headed east to the Metropolitan Ely Invitational Championship poker tournament, hosted by Ironman Colt. Other Ironmen taking part included Santa Claus, Fat Jesus, and River Joe; Baby Carlos bailed, claiming some lame excuse about "work". Last year's MEIC Main Event was won by Mrs. Ollie (a/k/a "Kryptonite"), who took over for her husband when he was called away for fatherly duties, and promptly took his short stack to the title. The tourney highlight was when Kryptonite eliminated three players on one hand.  Tournament directors really need to take a look at this spousal bait-and-switch angleshooting.

This year, I was playing an average stack when Kryptonite pushed all-in over several limpers, and I woke up with Aces. Defying the odds, I managed to suck out a blank board and coasted to the final four. I got to heads up with Colt roughly equal in chips, and took a commanding lead when my red Presto held up against Colt's Ace-Yak. A few hands later, my King-Yak of crubs rivered a Yak to beat Colt's Ace-Eight for the title. Nothing too exciting, all pretty standard tourney play. But I'll take the cash!  Also, it means gays won both prestigious poker tourneys this weekend; just more evidence that gays and flushes both beat straights in poker ...

One funny moment occurred when we got down to three players. The third was Colt's niece who was playing with a hand ranking chart in front of her, yet had made several great calls to eliminate players along the way. Colt won a big pot from her with a suckout, and was stacking her chips when she sweetly says, "It's OK, I still love you." Colt and I laughed and started using that line the rest of the tourney. Wonder if we'll ever see Phil Hellmuth say that in the WSOP ...

On an unrelated note, let me pause to wish a happy 40th birthday to Ironman Bonnie, whose wife provided this great high school photo, which clearly inspired Napoleon Dynamite:




I will be returning to cash game action at the Meadows ATM later this week.  As always, hilarity and the revolution will not be televised, but may be Tweeted.

April 08, 2010

If a Chainsaw Whines in a Forest (and There's No Tournament Director to Hear) ...

Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

—George Santayana, in "The Life of Reason—Vol. 1, Reason in Common Sense"

Waking up at 5:00 am with a 50 pound puppy laying across my legs, I made the only smart play and let the sleeping dog lie.  So, I grabbed the iPhone and caught up on a bunch of blog flotsam and jetsam that had built up in Google Reader (my iPhone and Google Reader are the two tech innovations I once scorned, and now am addicted to after two months of use—keep me away from that infernal iPad before I'm fully assimilated into the coming Apple/Google Borg!).

Now, I knew from his Tweets that F-Train was on the East Coast to cover the NAPT event at the Mohegan Sun casino.  Lacking any blog updates from the lazy and shiftless F-Train, I was forced to resort to ESPN.com, of all places, to get some poker news.  Apparently, there is trouble right there in River City, with a capital "T", that rhymes with "C", that stands for ... "Chainsaw".  As reported by Andrew Feldman, tournament directors apparently underestimated the number of entrants for the Main Event.  So, those who had registered earliest (online qualifiers, satellite winners, and sponsored entrants) had seats in the 600-person tournament room, while later entrants were relegated to extra tables set up in the poker room.  Apparently, this led Allen "Chainsaw" Kessler—a notorious whiner once described as "like Larry David" but "more annoying" and "not as funny"—to complain about being seated in the overflow tables in the poker room:


For those professional players traveling across the country for the event, registering early Wednesday left them in the same room with and competing against those they knew best. Allen Kessler brought up the issue on Twitter, stating, "What a fiasco. Mohegan [NAPT] $5k sat all online qualifiers in ballroom, all pros buying in directly are in poker room."

To clarify Kessler's thought, the qualifiers and PokerStars Pros had their seats in hand before their arrival here at Mohegan, so they were part of the original grouping. Although he might have believed seating the pros and satty winners together was done intentionally, that clearly was not the case. It was more a case of an underestimate of attendance and, thus, a mistake in seating.

—Andrew Feldman, on his ESPN.com "Poker Blog" (8 April 2010).

This "you're being mean to the late registrants" mewling instantly reminded me of the carping from last year's WSOP Main Event, when the fourth (and final) "Day 1" seating was sold out, leaving a few hundred entrant-wannabes out in the cold (errr, technically wandering the blast furnace of Vegas in July).  Never mind that there were three other "Day 1s" available, any one of which could have accommodated the players who chose to wait for the last possible moment to enter the Main Event.  Nope, those players felt they had an absolute right to waltz in at the last minute and be guaranteed a seat, despite knowing there were limits on the seats available for each session.

These two incidents really highlight the "the world revolves around me" attitude of a significant percentage of poker players, particularly the poker tournament subculture.  Tournament structures suck, the buy-ins suck, the breaks suck, the schedule of events sucks, the way tables are broken sucks, the payout structure sucks, the dealers suck ... heck, I'm not sure there's anything that's actually done right in tournament poker, at least if you ask the players (Chainsaw's Twitter stream is, with apologies to Allan Bloom, a nonstop masturbational orgy of poker moaning). 

Well, I hate to break it to Chainsaw and his not-so-merry band of procrastinating poker pros, but out here in the real world, waiting until the last minute sometimes means you miss out:
  • If you wait until Christmas Eve to shop for Christmas gifts, you may find that the hot item of the season is sold out.  But, I suppose the merchant should have saved a few in the back, just for you.
  • If you arrive just before a movie starts, it may be sold out.  But, I suppose the theatre should have held back a few tickets, just in case you decided you wanted to see a flick.
  • If you wait until the week before a major holiday to make travel plans, flights and hotels may be sold out, or prices may be sky-high.  But, I suppose the airlines and hotels should have kept seats and rooms reserved for you at discount rates, just in case you decided to travel.
To be blunt, I really have no sympathy at all for people who decide to cut it close on deadlines for their own convenience, and expect—no, demand!—to be accomodated the same as those folks who planned ahead.  As an unknown wit so pithily observed:

"A failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine."
So, to Chainsaw and his fellow whiners, y'all registered after the tournament was technically full.  You knew when registration opened, yet you got registered after 600+ other players.  I don't care what "excuse" you have for registering later than 600+ players, whatever your reason, you took a gamble by waiting.  The tournament had no obligation even to let you into the field at all, and did you a favor by adding tables to another room.  So stop whining about being in the auxilliary room with all of the supposedly tougher players.  You're fortunate to be in the field at all.

"Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle."

—Abraham Lincoln

D-Bag O' the Day

Welcome to a new regular (but likely not actually daily) feature, the D-Bag O' the Day!  The D-Bags of the world deserve special recognition, particularly when they are notably annoying.  So, they will be featured here semi-regularly, as well as added to a sidebar.

Our first honoree goes to a self-absorbed ungentleman I ran across today.  I went to lunch with one of my law partners, and we decided to stop at Smokey D's BBQ in the downtown Des Moines skywalk.  Smokey D's has excellent BBQ at a good price, not to mention several award-winning sauces (I love the "Sassy" and "Fiery" sauces).  The skywalk location is pretty no-frills, but you go there for the food, not the ambience.  Their restaurant is also fairly small, with only 10-12 tables, most of which only seat 2-3 people, and a few that seat 4-5.  During the lunch rush, seating is at a premium, as Smokey D's is understandably a popular spot.  If I am eating solo, I get my food to go, but today, my partner and I wanted to eat at the restaurant.  So, we went after the main rush had passed, stood for five minutes in a fairly short line, but when we got our food, there were no open tables.  So, we stood and waited for an opening, along with a few other people.  Here's where our D-Bag earned his stripes ...

A table, one of the few tables for 4-5 people, opened up.  D-Bag swoops in and captures the table ... for himself.  That's right, he took a big table and tied it up for his own use.  Now, other people had waited longer for a table, including a group of four.  Several other groups were in line for food.  But never mind all that, D-Bag happened to be closest to the table, so he took it.  As if to give a big ol' middle finger to those still standing, D-Bag decided to take his sweet time to eat, then lingered at the table after he finished eating to enjoy some web-browsing on his cell phone.  To be fair, there were a couple of groups of minor league d-bags who tied up tables with post-lunch chitchat (for gawd's sake, go walk around!), but our major league D-Bag took it to an entirely new level.  So, congrats to our inaugural D-Bag O' the Day!

A D-Bag in the wild.  Note the classic "screw y'all" pose.

April 04, 2010

Tilting at Poker Windmills

Quixotic—impractical: motivated by an idealism that overlooks practical considerations.

Encarta Dictionary

The ongoing legal debate regarding whether poker is a game of chance or a game of skill took another turn recently as the Pennsylvania Superior Court (an intermediate appellate court) ruled that poker was indeed a game of chance, making home poker games illegal under the state’s gambling laws. Commonwealth of Pennsylvania v. Dent, 2010 PA Super. 47 (Mar. 25, 2010). The interesting legal issue raised in the case was that prior Pennsylvania case law requires a game to have chance as a “predominate factor” in determining the winner of a wager for the game to qualify as illegal gambling. This legal test requires “the court [to] determine the relative amount of chance and skill present in a game, and if the element of chance predominates, the game is a gambling game.” (Dent, p. 6, para. 11). In other words, rather than merely requiring an element of chance, however small, Pennsylvania requires chance to play a larger role than skill in order for a game to qualify as illegal gambling.

Now, for those of us who play poker with some degree of seriousness, it seems axiomatic that skill plays a greater role than chance in determining who wins at poker. The record before the court, as well as the lower court’s references to outside sources, would seem to have made this an easy win for the defendants; the evidence established that skill was a greater factor than chance, at least for serious players. In fact, the state’s evidence apparently was limited to observations by the undercover agent who orchestrated the bust of the home game: “You don’t have to know anything. You could go there as an idiot and you may get lucky but over the course of time it would be beneficial to know the game of poker[.]” (Dent, Colville, J., dissenting, at p. 3, para. 6, n. 1).

Despite the favorable evidentiary record, the appellate court nonetheless ruled that poker was a game of chance. Writing for CardPlayer.com, Stephen Murphy expressed surprise at the court’s decision:

So yeah, if you’ve been making a living through poker, consider yourself blessed. Because according to the Superior Court of Pennsylvania, you’re one lucky guy (or girl). Or, at least, you’re winning at a game that is primarily luck.

So, how did the Pennsylvania court arrive at the conclusion that chance predominates over skill in poker? The court looked at a series of prior cases from other jurisdictions which held that poker was a game of chance, including several fairly old precedents (1904-1935), and some more modern decisions (1971, 1995, and 2007). The court seemed to find particularly persuasive the recent North Carolina Court of Appeals decision which also found poker to be a game of chance while applying the same “predominate factor” test:

"[W]hile all games have elements of chance, games which can be determined by superior skill are not games of chance. For example, bowling, chess, and billiards are games of skill because skill determines the outcome. The game itself is static and the only factor separating the players is their relative skill levels. In short, the instrumentality for victory is in each player’s hands and his fortunes will be determined by how skillfully he use (sic) that instrumentality.

Poker, however, presents players with different hands, making the players unequal in the same game and subject to defeat at the turn of a card. Although skills such as knowledge of human psychology, bluffing, and the ability to analyze odds make it more likely for skilled players to defeat novices, novices may yet prevail with a simple run of luck. No amount of skill can change a deuce into an ace. Thus, the instrumentality for victory is not entirely in the player’s hand."

Dent, p. 11, para. 21 (quoting Joker Club, L.L.C. v. Hardin, 643 S.E.2d 626, 630-31 (N.C. Ct. App. 2007).

The Dent court essentially adopted the reasoning of the Joker Club decision, rather summarily concluding:

While … skill can determine the outcome in a poker game, players are still subject to defeat at the turn of the cards. 

Dent, p. 14, para. 23.

It appears, then, that neither the Dent court nor the Jokers Club court actually attempted to make any determination of the relative impact of skill and chance on winning at poker. Rather, both courts simply evaluated whether chance (or “luck”) is an intrinsic or inherent element of the game; not surprisingly, both courts found that it was.

The courts’ analytical approach is probably correct, despite the apparent legal requirement that the elements of skill and chance be weighed against each other. After all, how does one assign a meaningful weighting to the effects of skill and chance in a poker game? As a counterexample, let’s look at blackjack, where we know the house edge (depending on rules) is roughly 0.4% - 2.5%. We also know that card counting can give a player an edge over the house of roughly 0.5% - 1.5%. So, the skill element in card counting is roughly 1% - 4%, which is rather miniscule, yet great enough to be profitable over the long term. Does this make blackjack a game of skill? Not according to any legislature, court, or regulatory agency.

Turning to poker, then, how does one quantify either chance or skill in any meaningful manner? One can look at an isolated hand and determine the mathematical odds of winning for each player preflop, on the flop, and on the turn. But if the hand ends with a winner who had the worst of the odds at any stage, is that result the effect of luck (e.g., hitting a two-outer) or skill (e.g., a well-timed bluff)? We could also look at a player’s results over the course of a large sample of hands, and see whether he played each hand “skillfully” (i.e., in accordance with mathematical odds and game theory). Yet a “skillful” player might still lose even over a large number of hands due to chance, while an “unskilled” player (even a total donkey) might win over a large number of hands, again due to chance.

Looking at the skill/chance issue in this manner, poker begins to appear a lot like blackjack—a game where skilled play can adjust the statistical odds in a player’s favor, yet still leave that player’s actual results subject to the vagaries of chance, no matter how skillfully s/he plays. This inherent element of chance does distinguish card games (including poker) from games of pure skill, such as chess. Pull Joe Schmoe off the street—Garry Kasparov will beat Joe every time at chess (probably with his eyes closed), yet Joe stands a reasonable shot at beating Phil Ivey in poker, at least in one tournament or during one session of a cash game.

The Pennsylvania court also based its ruling on an argument I predicted earlier when discussing efforts to legalize online poker in Iowa:

A potential problem for Iowa's online poker players is that the explicit legalization and regulation of online poker would likely mean that any online poker outside the state-approved system would be deemed illegal. I suspect the state would assert that online poker is currently illegal in the state, but the existence of a legal state-approved system would remove any potential ambiguity about the legality of unregulated online poker play.

In the Pennsylvania decision, the court used the same line of reasoning, observing that the Pennsylvania legislature had recently legalized various table games for casinos, including poker:

This conclusion [that poker is illegal gambling] is buttressed by the recent passage and signing of the amendments to Pennsylvania Horse Race Development and Gaming Act, to allow for the authorization of table games, specifically naming poker as one, in certain licensed commercial facilities. The amendment further gives the Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board general and sole regulatory authority over the conduct and playing of table games, including poker, among others. There would have been no reason for the legislature to act to authorize playing of poker in certain facilities if playing poker did not constitute “unlawful gambling” prior to said authorization.

Dent, p. 15, para. 26 (citations omitted) (emphasis added).

The Poker Players Alliance (PPA), which has been at the forefront in pushing the “poker is not gambling” legal theory, issued a press release bemoaning the adverse ruling:


We are disappointed by the result, which we believe is contrary to not only the better reasoned decisions around the country, but also to the wealth of scientific research that shows poker is a game of skill rather than chance.

Short-Stacked Shamus, posting over on Pokerati.com, observed “poker players have come to expect high variance when it comes to state courts’ attempts to decide the issue of whether poker is a game of skill or chance.” What Shamus and the PPA gloss over, though, is that all of the recent legal victories in the “skill vs. chance” debate have been at the trial court level. To this point, no favorable trial court ruling has been affirmed on appeal, and no state appellate court has entered a favorable ruling finding that poker is legal because it is a game of skill. This is an important distinction because trial court rulings are generally binding only on the parties to the case, while appellate decisions are binding on all trial courts in the state. In other words, poker players are winning a few small battles, but are definitely losing the poker legalization war.

Now, appellate cases on the “skill vs. chance” issue are still pending in the supreme courts for Colorado and South Carolina, though the deck seems stacked against poker-favorable rulings in both cases—Colorado law explicitly provides that poker is illegal gambling (except in certain social settings), while South Carolina has a draconian anti-gambling statute barring all card games played for money, without reference to any element of chance. If poker is illegal under the relatively lax legal tests applied by the Pennsylvania and North Carolina appellate courts, a decision in either Colorado or South Carolina finding poker to be legal and exempt from gaming statutes seems less likely than hitting a one-outer (or winning with Yaks).

The “poker is a game of skill” meme is entirely correct. The continuing legal campaign premised on using that meme to exempt poker from gaming laws is utterly quixotic. The PPA (and poker players in general) need to understand that the battle to legalize poker will not—indeed cannot—be won in court. At its core, the poker legalization debate is not about “skill vs. chance” at all. As a practical matter, poker is firmly entrenched in the public’s mind as a form of gambling. Look again at the Pennsylvania decision—it cites cases from nine states covering more than a century of legal decisions, all concluding that poker is gambling. In states with legalized gambling, poker is treated as just another casino table game, subject to the same general gaming regulations as blackjack, baccarat, craps, and roulette. Popular culture depicts poker players as swaggering gamblers and/or con men (e.g., The Sting, The Cincinnati Kid, Maverick, the new Casino Royale, and yes, even Rounders); to those not familiar with the game, poker as depicted in these movies is really indistinguishable from blackjack in 21, or baccarat in several James Bond flicks. Heck, look at the 2009 WSOP final table—anyone watching the ESPN coverage would come away convinced that poker routinely involves players winning hands against long odds (just ask Antoine Saout if he feels his final table results were due to skill or chance).

Given the publicly ingrained view of poker as gambling, attempting to persuade appellate courts to declare that poker is not gambling is ultimately a fool’s errand. Courts are inherently conservative institutions, reluctant to issue decisions that contradict a community’s long-standing and widely-held beliefs and values, absent some compelling argument. “Poker is a game of skill”—even though logically correct—is not particularly compelling beyond the insular poker community. Poker players probably gain some psychological boost from being able to convince their friends and family (and themselves) that their game is really different from other casino games. Poker books and websites benefit from persuading poker players that they can learn to win (if only they purchase specific products, of course). But setting aside laws that are more than a century old? If the PPA’s best argument is to parse the differences between Hold ‘Em and Let It Ride, they’ve already lost. Better for the PPA to spend its resources lobbying state legislatures and Congress for explicit legalization and regulation of poker, including provisions for low-stakes, not-for-profit home games.

It’s time to stop tilting at the “poker is not gambling” windmill.