Tail of Two Variances

Learning to identify variance is a super important part of being a good card player.  It’s a skill that has to be developed and is one of the more tricky one’s to master for me.  When variance strikes I typically have two reactions.  I grumble at a player who I think is making poor poker choices and getting rewarded for it.  Or, I curse my fate and wonder if I’m misplaying or if I’m just not cut out to be a threat at the card table.

Variance will happen to anyone who plays cards and player’s beliefs about it (and the corresponding emotion) can have a significant impact on their play and bottom line.  One way to help mitigate the impact of variance on my game is to think about it in more objective terms.  The better I can describe variance, the better I’ll be able to recognize it and defuse its impact on my decision-making.

In light of becoming better at describing variance, here are a couple of hands:

1.)    Hero on the button with Ad-10c
Folds around to hero who raises
SB calls, BB folds
Heads up, 2.5 big bets
Flop 8d-5h-2c
SB checks, hero bets, SB calls
Heads up, 3.5 big bets
Turn Ah
SB bets, hero calls all in (only $8 left behind)
SB shows A-K

2.)    Hero in cutoff with Jc-Jd
Two limpers, hero raises
Button folds, SB folds, BB calls, limpers call
Four players, 4  big bets
Flop 10c-8d-2d
Checks to hero who bets
BB calls, UTG +2 calls
Three players, 5.5 big bets
Turn 5h
Checks to hero who bets
Both villains call
Three players, 8.5 big bets
River  6d
Checks to hero who bets
Both villains call
BB shows 5d-6c
UTG +2 mucks

Hand number 2 I steamed over for some time.  In this hand I had an object for my distain.  The peel on the flop was absolutely terrible.  With no pair and no draw the pot wasn’t even close to being big enough for the miniscule odds for him to make a backdoor hand.  The call on the turn is equally horrible against two players with three overcards to his pair on board.  I may have been betting naked overcards but the other villain almost certainly called the flop with something and still had to act behind him!  Then, the crowning blunder is check-calling the river after making his hand.  I could have (probably should have) checked behind on the river, costing him $16 or he could have tried a check raise.

The bottom line is I steam for a while on these hands but then remind myself that it’s good that players make bad decisions in the long run; that is how decent players make money.  In the grand scheme, it’s good this player is sitting at my table, even if in the short run he caught some lucky cards and beat me.  Sure enough, by the end of the session this player had predictably bled off all his money and left the table broke.

My reaction to hand number 1 is a little more complicated.  In this hand there simply is no target for my anger. The bad guy in this hand is simply cold and impersonal probability.  It’s just a fact that when I raise a strong ace when it’s folded around to me in position, I’m going to run into a stronger ace in the blinds some percentage of the time.  No amount of my brilliant play or terrible play on the part of my opponents will change this.  There is no consolation like in hand number 2. 

When hands like number 1 happen (particularly when they repeatedly happen in the same session) my thoughts begin to wonder to superstition and impaired confidence.  These hands tweak my preexisting insecurities.  Like most people, I worry about my place in life, weather I work hard enough or deserve the benefits I enjoy.  I wonder sometimes if the success I’ve had in life is just some fluke and that eventually someone will find me out, discover I’m a fraud and things will tumble down.  Hands like number 1 make me doubt if my decision to play poker was flawed from the get go and trying to improve is simply flushing good money after bad.  I wonder if God or fate is trying to tell me that playing cards isn’t good for me and I need to quit.  After getting beaten up over and over in sessions like this, I leave worn out, exhausted and not looking forward to the next time I can play.

While my assessment is dismal, being able to articulate it helps a lot.  As soon as I can identify what’s happening and to speak (or write) about it clearly, the fuzzy thinking begins to dissipate.  What’s causing my frustration has nothing to do with the cards on the table, they simply are.  My tilt is caused by my flawed thinking about myself and my card playing.  To the extent that I can call out what’s going on I can change the channel, start focusing on the things I can have influence on and refine my decisions.