Texas Hold ‘Em: The Real World

On Tuesday I ventured down to the Wonder of It All, Foxwoods Resort Casino in lovely southeastern Connecticut.  (I pledge that that is the last time I will ever use the words “lovely” and “Connecticut” in the same sentence.)  As a former high school teacher and future graduate student, you can imagine I have a lot of time on my hands this summer.  And, as I so aptly rationalized, what better way to spend said free time than in a smoky, tacky, leech-filled poker room 70 miles away?  A trip to Foxwoods always has its share of potential pitfalls.  First, there is the garish realization that yes, I am driving by myself to a casino which is two states away.  In and of itself, that would be enough of a deterrent for most people to stay home and watch “The Price is Right” or “Press Your Luck”, like normal people who don’t have jobs.  Somehow, inexplicably, I see the solo Foxwoods commute as a badge of honor.  Lacking the sense of inherent shame that comes from engaging in such potentially self-destructive behavior, I have only the fear of losing my money to stop me from going.

Unfortunately, I have subconsciously learned to conquer that fear by creating a “Foxwoods Stash”, an envelope (hidden in an undisclosed location, like Area 51) in which I place a portion of any and all winnings I have accrued, including the original investments.  With some luck this year, I have managed to build up a substantial stash.  Let’s just say, if for whatever reason the government decides to tack an extra month onto the fiscal year and doesn’t allow me to work to pay my bills for that month, I’ll be able to eat out a couple of nights a week.  If any readers work for the IRS, I am just kidding.

Without the shame of the solo trip and the fear of going bankrupt, I have no reason not to go gambling.  Which is not the best situation to be in if I expect to hold on to that stash.

Anyway, I’m rambling.  The real point of this article is that on Tuesday, when I sat down at a $2/$4 limit Texas Hold `Em table, I realized why poker has become so popular in America lately: Poker is Life. The rest is just details.

Shameless exploitation of a mid-90’s t-shirt fad aside, the crowd in a poker room, like Bill Clinton’s cabinet, looks like America.

There are very few places where you can see a true cross-section of American demographics.  Highway rest areas, especially on roads like the Jersey Turnpike, are possibly the most diverse, racially-harmonized places in the country.  Hundreds of people coming and going, all waiting in line at the Roy Rogers, using the scummy bathrooms and continuing on their journey.  Gambling casinos are another.  If a visitor from another planet landed at Foxwoods, Mohegan Sun, Atlantic City, or especially Vegas, he would get a pretty decent education in American Studies.  He might have a warped sense of the percentages of the ethnic groups, possibly assuming that 75% of the American population are of Asian descent, but he would still get the full spectrum of the American real world.

Beyond strictly racial and ethnic demographics, however, the people who frequent poker rooms represent cliche castings of various personality types.  In this sense, poker is truly like the Real World – meaning the long-running MTV reality show.

In his book “Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs”, author Chuck Klosterman writes an entire chapter on the “Real World” and the proliferation of one-dimensional caricatures that litter the show.  His argument is that the “Real World” has influenced life because most people today strive to embody one singular personality type, rather than be a complex, interesting person.  I can’t explain it further; you have to read the book.  Either way, I realized the same is true in poker.  One-dimension stereotypes are everywhere in the casino.  And they are people you should watch out for.

Just like the Real World has the “Angry Black Militant” (Kevin from RW1, Kameelah from RW6, Coral from RW10, etc), poker has the “Hotshot Who Thinks He’s a Pro, Raises and Re-Raises Everything, Chases to the River, Loses and then Curses Loudly” (the guy who was sitting to my right on Tuesday).  This is the kind of player who you want to have to your right at the table.  He is the guy that you will have to play very tight, folding all but the premium hands, and wait for the right hand to come along.  When that happens, it can be very profitable for you.

On Tuesday, I was holding pocket Aces in my hand for the first time all day.  Hotshot raised pre-flop, and I called.  Some other guy re-raised, and Hotshot capped it, resulting in seven players, all who had already put in $8 to see the flop (a $56 pot pre-flop), which is a huge amount at a $2/$4 table).  The flop came K-7-3, Hotshot bet, I called, the other guy raised, Hotshot re-raised, I called, etc.  This charade continued around for two more rounds of betting.  The only hand I was afraid Hotshot had was pocket Kings.  Somehow, I figured he was acting way too strongly for that to be true, however.  When the river came, I threw down my Rockets, and Hotshot mucked a Queen-10 suited.  Sweet justice.

“The Real World” always has a character from a marginal social group, usually “The Gay One” (Norman, Beth, Pedro, Dan, Chris, et al).  Poker players, on the other hand, are by definition a marginal group.  The persecuted cliche that was represented at my table was the “Guy Who Only Sees What He Has on the Board and Doesn’t Contemplate What Anyone Else Has.”  This guy was thankfully sitting at the other end of the table from me, so I had a lot of time to act after he would place some asinine bet.  He had an odd mannerism about him, too; he would remain silent until he wanted to bet, then he would loudly proclaim, “TWO DOLLARS” or “I RAISE FOUR DOLLARS”, in a Nuke LaLoosh-esque announcement of his presence with authority.  At the end of the one hand that I went heads up with him, he threw down his cards and say “I HAVE TWO PAIR,” while I calmly announced that I had pulled 7’s full of 10’s.  He confusedly looked at the board for a few moments, trying to figure out how there could be a full house on the board, completely distraught that he lost.  Apparently he also hadn’t considered the straight or three-of-a-kind possibilities, either one of which would have beaten his two pair, which he took for a monster.

Lastly, Klosterman mentions the cliche of the “Naive Virginal Southerner Who’s Vaguely Foxy” (Julie, Elka, Trishelle, etc.).  The poker equivalent of this is the “Old Lady Who Looks Like She Should Be Playing Bridge or Mah-Jongg But Instead Is Kicking Everyone’s Ass at Hold’Em” (two seats to my left).  This character is dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.  Old Lady almost singlehandedly cost me a chance at pulling a profit (thank God for Hotshot and that $140 pot).  She is very calm, very disciplined.  She folds when she has to, and raises when you don’t want her to.  Somehow she has a sixth sense that tells her to raise pre-flop when you are sitting on the big blind holding 3-8 offsuit.  When she raises, you know she has something… but then she reveals that she just bluffed you out of $30.  She commands a lot of respect at the table, and probably got her start in poker while playing 7-card stud with her husband’s buddies.  

Old Lady bluffed me big-time.  A third club fell on the turn, and with five players still in, Old Lady raised, whereas before this she had simply limped in to the hands.  Holding the top two pairs, I folded, respecting Old Lady’s flush.  At the end of the hand, she turned over the winning hand: nothing more than a pair of Queens.  

Motto: respect your elders.  And bet the top two pair more aggressively.  This isn’t a game for sallies.  As Mike McDermott says in Rounders, “It’s a war, Professor.”  Just remember to change tables if Puck sits down in your game.

COMING SOON: COMMENTARY ON THE 2004 WORLD SERIES OF POKER MAIN EVENT

By Ryan McGowan    2004