Trials of a Poker Apprentice: God, I'm stupid

And for many, many reasons. Here's a couple of the most recent:

(1) After the news hit yesterday about World Poker Exchange going rake-free, I got excited. I started thinking how that could attract a lot of players, so I immediately went to their website, looking for how to join their affiliate program.

I hoping some of you haven't seen the discrepancy yet, because that would certainly make me feel better. If so, here's the DUH! moment. Rake-free poker means no poker revenue, means no revenue share, means no money for affiliates.

Yeah, I probably was the only one who didn't catch that right off the bat.

(2) Blew the bankroll again yesterday, not that it amounted to very much. It sucks to suck at poker.

I'm not going to bore anyone with the gory details. Suffice to say I knew it was time to take a break, I started taking the break, but then I went back to the tables before I was ready.

My game is in such a miserable place right now, it would be easy to just say, "F*ck it, I'm done." But I know I won't do that. I really, really need to just step away for a good long while, get my head straightened out and not return until I'm good and ready.

John "Johnny Quads" Wenzel, in his first column as editor-in-chief for Poker Pro Magazine, wrote one sentence that really hit home for me and cast the game in a light I hadn't examined it from before. Describing the game of poker, he wrote, "It is a game of mathematical certainty over time, but complete chaos during any given hand."

My problem right now is that I am lost in the chaos, unable to see the certainty.

It really is the whole "can't see the forest for the trees" kind of thing, but I like to think of poker as being a combination of two related but very distinct games -- a big game and a little game, if you will -- surrounded by a cloud of distraction.

The big game concerns your habits, how you play over the long term. This is what you are studying when you learn about starting hands, pot odds, statistics, etc. This part of the game is so big that it is invisible to many players. It is the plate tectonics of poker -- slow-moving and imperceptible, but very real, with very deep impact on your long-term success.

The little game, on the other hand, is all about putting together the pieces of the puzzle in a given hand. It is most evident when you are staring across the table at an opponent who has just presented you with a difficult decision and you are performing the mental gymnastics that will determine your next move. This is what you are studying when you are learning about tells and the psychology of poker.

The key to being a winning player is to find the balance. If you are too much of a big game player, other players will eat you alive by consistently pushing you off the best hand. If you are too much of a little game player, your play will be so erratic and obvious to better players that they will bide their time and then bury you at the proper moment.

And then there is the distraction, which is everything about the game that is neither the big game nor the little game, but which can have a huge impact on your game. That includes side bets, your physical and mental comfort level, the relationships you have with the other players, alcohol and drugs, "having fun," and, most surprisingly, money. If your concentration is focused too much on any of these things, even the money, especially the money, your game will suffer.

If I were to diagnose the disease of my own game lately, I would say that I have developed chronic little-game obsession, combined with -- or maybe even caused by -- too much focus on the money. By allowing myself to become to preoccupied with the little game, I am often asking myself, "What can I do to win THIS pot?" That's not necessarily a bad question to ponder every now and then, but the problem for me lately is that I am asking myself that question every single hand. I am neglecting what Caro said about money saved being just as good as money won. "Screw saving, I want to win!" (Which is why I'm not lately.) That is leading to far too many bluffs and way too many chases, coupled with disregard for the foundations of the big game.

But the temptation is certainly there, and that's probably what makes a simple game like poker so difficult to master. Big wins generally come from making high-risk plays. Certainly, there are situations that dictate making the high-risk play. However, if you are constantly chasing the big reward, all of that added risk will eventually catch up to you. When you decide to dance in a minefield, you shouldn't be surprised when your leg gets blown off. You should only be surprised if you are able to do it successfully for an extended period of time.

As for the secondary symptom, or perhaps causal agent, I find myself far too concerned with the money involved. Instead of maintaining focus on what I need to do to be a better player, I am looking for the next big score, and it should be obvious to see how that can lead one's game out of balance toward the little game side.

Poker is just like any other sport in the sense that, once you become obsessed with the trophy you might win, it can easily slip from your grasp. When you start thinking about that trophy -- how shiny it is, where to put it in your home, the recognition you will get from your friends for winning it -- you take your mind off the game and off the fundamentals that would have won you the trophy.

We have all had it happen to us. You are playing a tournament and at some point you realize you are the chip leader. You start celebrating prematurely, looking at the prize payouts and thinking about how you are going to spend that money, what you are going to say to your wife when you win, etc. The next thing you know, you've busted out on the bubble, or perhaps just barely in the money, your hopes of a big payday suddenly gone. What happened? You started concentrating on the trophy and took your mind off the game. Or maybe you started playing differently from the style that got you the chip lead in an effort to "protect" your lead. Or maybe you got reckless, figuring you could afford it. Whatever it was, it all boils down to the fact that you embraced your success before you had it, and then you didn't have it anymore.

And just like that, I've seemingly answered every question in the poker universe. But then again, just like the title says and my actions of late have shown, I'm stupid, so what the hell do I know? You'd be better off reading the articles that follow.