Couples Poker: Looking for Order in Chaos
A relatively large group of us in the Willow Glen area in San Jose engage in a semi-monthly extravaganza called "Couples Poker". Admittedly this is not nearly as exciting as the couples parties of the mid-1970s, but then most of us already have all the Tupperware we need (thought I was going somewhere else, you sick puppy, huh?)
Couples Poker is should really be called something else since couples don't play as such and often attendees are single (or just wish they were.) Perhaps I'll come up with a snappier name for it, but for now this will do:
Short Bus Poker
If you get it, great, if not I won't explain it.
Those of us who play a lot (OK, mostly the men in the group) find this game unfathomably chaotic. We have no idea what the hell other people are playing, and as such, we find it very difficult to play our own hands. We've pondered startegies over beers from "any 2 will do" to playing unbelievably tight (i.e. only entering the pot with AA, KK, QQ, AK etc.)
You see in "real poker" your opponent (who theoretically has some basic understanding of the game, however bad), gives off clues to what they have primarily by how they bet or call. "Movie Tells", like listening to the opening of an Oreo (rent Rounders), are RARE. In "real poker", if a guy raises before the flop, he's got something. If he raises after, he thinks he's still good or at he's feigning it. Fair enough, thank you for the info.
The basic premise above is that the player has some understanding of what his/her hand is, so you- the astute player- can make a read of what he/she's got based on that understanding. This premise falls apart in Short Bus Poker because of "Mitch's Short Bus Poker Theorem #1":
"In order for you to read what a player might have, that player must be themself know what they have."
If this sounds familiar to those of you who have read some poker books, it is an homage to Sklansky's Fundamental Theorem of Poker (from his seminal work The Theory of Poker):
"Every time you play a hand differently from the way you would have played it if you could see all your opponents' cards, they gain; and every time you play your hand the same way you would have played it if you could see all their cards, they lose. Conversely, every time opponents play their hands differently from the way they would have if they could see all your cards, you gain; and every time they play their hands the same way they would have played if they could see all your cards, you lose."
So back to my Theorem, in simpler terms, if your opponent has no fucking clue what they've got, you sure-as-shit aren't going to know.
But how did I get here (hand slaps head in best David Byrne impression)? Why am I writing this? Where an I going?
Last Saturday night I dealt at a Couples Poker Night. Same group as usual, but this time me and some of my poker buddies donated our time to run the party in order to raise money for our local school system. (I guess the Governator will get around to funding the school system sooner or later- once he gets done pumping himself- but until then we need to beg.) While dealing, I got to really observe how people played. This was especially insightful when I got to see their hands in advance (I would occasionally look at the cards if a player had stepped off for a beer...I'd play their hand for them.)
This summarizes what I observed about starting cards:
Let's think about that for a moment....
Got it?
This means your opponent has any two cards that came off the deck. You haven't got a god-damned clue what is in their hand. And if you remember my first theorem, neither do they. This brings up Mitch's Second Theorem of Short Bus Poker:
"While your opponent may not know what they have, you can be sure they have any two random cards that came off the deck. No matter how much money you bet, they are just as likely to call with 7-2 as they are with A-A. Use this information wisely."
The really astute reader (or at least one that has seen Jurassic Park a few dozen times) will quickly see the parallel to chaos theory. In chaos theory, the output of a system can be wildly non-linear with the input. A butterfly flapping its wings in Beijing causes a hurricane in Texas, is the classic example. In normal poker, a large bet tends to narrow the field of hands you might compete against to ones you could readily charactize and read. An expected output to an expected input. Not so in Short Bus Poker: it is chaotic in the extreme (although I am hoping my dealing did not cause Katrina...)
On Saturday night, I saw pre-flop raises (almost always by guys with pocket pairs or big suited connectors) instantly called by many folks at the table. Callers held a variety of hands from 7-4 unsuited to A-A. I'm serious, I saw all of these. The only raise that got any respect at all was ALL-IN with a big stack (and I gotta give props to Eric S. for getting this and push with AA early in the game.)
This begs the question, why raise pre-flop at all? You're not going to get any info from the raise and you're not going to thin the field. Putting in a massive raise just builds a massive pot for someone to suck out on you with bottom 2 pair, right? Well, probably.
I think you should raise with a really good starting hand. A little nudge raise, like 3-4x the big blind should suffice. It won't get anyone out of the pot, but it will sweeten the pot if you stay ahead.
But really BIG raises? Forget it. Best case you'll be a 4-1 fav before the flop if you get everyone but one other player out (which you won't). Consider this sobering factoid:
In a random 5 way hand with AK, J10, Q9, 44 and 7-5 (offsuit) big slick (AK) is only a 5% favorite over J10 and Q9, a 9% fav over 4-4 and a little over a 2-1 fav over that skanky 7-5 off-suit. (If you change big slick to AA, you become a 2-1 favorite over everyone, but still not huge.) So how lucky are you feeling now, punk?
Restated as Mitch's 3rd Theorem of Short Bus Poker:
"If you're raising massively pre-flop to improve your odds of winning a hand, you should seek professional help immediately because you're probably hitting the meth too hard."
The corrollary to this Theorem involves bluffing:
"Oh yeah, and if you're bluffing by betting to get people out of hand, you've moved beyong meth to China White or something worse." (I will call this corrollary "Campbell's Law" in honor of who prompted me to write it.)