We Homo sapiens are an imitative species. A trip to the zoo will reveal that we share this tendency with our closest relatives (as in "monkey see, monkey do"). Infants imitate others as soon as they can; three-day-olds will stick out their tongues if they see an adult do it.
A huge amount of what we learn comes from observing others and marked cards, as we grow and mature, our role models become touchstones for our own developing selves. We like movies and television and love to imagine ourselves as our heroes; we want to be like that dude up there on screen.
But imitation has limitations. It works best when learning something new. It helps you
The poker landscape has undergone seismic changes in just a few years, much of it due to TV. The exposure has created stars. Guys who, a couple of years ago, were crawling the dusty roads from one underground game to another now have agents, personal trainers and their own Web sites.
Twenty-somethings who were sitting in front of their computers in their tighty whities eking out
Of course, as most realize, watching poker on TV isn't really watching poker played on TV. It's an edited show. Compelling scenes have been selected; the dross has landed on the metaphoric cutting room floor. It is entertainment.
It has to be. It has to sell advertising time and it has to draw an audience. It has done both, more than anyone (including the producers) ever imagined. But it is not poker, not really - although some shows, like High Stakes Poker, get close.
Poker, according to the late, great Jack Straus, is "hours of boredom punctuated by moments of terror." Boredom don't sell beer.
These stars have become role models and, predictably, have spawned legions of imitators, players who seem to think they gain something by acting like their heroes. They don't. They look like bozos and it hurts their game.
When good players see this kind of posturing, they work to unpack the offender's game. They aren't impressed; they just think you're a bad joke. Here are three of the worst. If you see yourself below, do yourself and the rest of us a favor: stop it.
Hollywooding
We've all watched Sammy Farha "contemplate" a big bet by counting out his chips, stacking and restacking them, riffling them over and over, counting them again, flipping them, stacking... gag!
Of course, then he folds. There are reasons for this act. It has a touch of drama. Sammy and the unlit cigarette stay marked cards contactlenses on camera and it has secondary gain in that it annoys opponents who are likely to tilt.
I'm tired of Sammy's act but I understand it. But I've had it with kids imitating it in my game. There is no camera my friends, no air time and no agents will be calling. You're wasting everyone's time and you're not gaining an edge on me. I have labeled you a "bozo" and I like to play with bozos.
And, while you're at, stop tying to dress like Phil Laak. Dump the hoodie.
The Stare
Phil Hilm got himself a lot of TV exposure during last year's WSOP finals. I suspect he's a decent enough player (he apparently has done well in European events), although his meltdown at the final table was stunning.
But no matter. The fascination with Hilm was "The Stare." Every time he had to act he would turn and rivet his opponent with an icy, focused glare. Like Sammy's Hollywood gambit, it got him air time.
Hilm's stare isn't anything new, of course. His was just the most recent and one of the more penetrating of the genre. But these peering, leering, staring, glaring clowns keep showing up in my games.
If you've become a practitioner of The Stare, here are some things to know. First, as noted in an earlier piece of mine, few if any tells are picked up this way. Tells are garnered from patterns of betting, talking and larger physical bodily actions.
Second, staring this way is a tell. It usually reflects uncertainty.
Third, I think it's funny and I have taken to snickering when opponents do it.
And, while contemplating this, please dump the shades. If you haven't noticed, many pros who wear them take them off in critical moments when they need to get all the information they can. I watched a poseur with aviators get stacked when he misread the board. The glasses went into his pocket on the very next hand.
Hand Reading
I love watching Daniel Negreanu smile, lean forward and say something like, "Man, you called with J-9o and hit that second pair." And, of course, because we know the hole cards, we see that he was exactly right. In fact, the commentators often remark about Daniel's seemingly occult hand reading skills.
Daniel is good at this, among the best. It is an important element in his success. But, keep in mind that the show you are watching is edited and a dead-on read like this is a "TV moment." Missed reads aren't.
Hand reading has a lot in common with picking up tells. It's based on detecting patterns over time. It is also not aimed at putting an opponent on a specific hand, although occasionally that is possible.
Hand reading begins with educated guesses about a range of hands an opponent could be holding and, as more information becomes available, progresses to a gradual narrowing of that range. When you know precisely what an opponent has, your grandma knows too.
Take-home message: Imitation is, indeed, a sincere form of flattery. It helps develop skills, and picking the right role model can be critical in the life choices we make.
But to really excel in anything we must go beyond emulating others. Find your own way. Stop the Hollywood gambit, dump The Stare and don't make a dunce out of yourself telling me I'm playing A-Js when I'm on a stone-cold bluff.
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