by Matches Malone

Good things come to those who wait, and revenge is a dish best served cold. Nowhere are these three bromides more relevant than at the poker table. In a game where ultimately, you'll only be playing about a sixth of the time, you should consider turning waiting into an art form.

I play only in tournaments, and consider myself to be always in the tournament, even if I'm not currently in the hand at play. I pick up the most information on others when I don't have cards in front of me. I look for obvious tells, as well as betting patterns, keeping in mind that when a pattern breaks is the most important thing to figure out, and what to do with al that information once I have it. I keep my head in the game, as it were.

Which is why I don't understand when people bring books, newspapers, racing forms or sudoku puzzles, to the table, just to name a few. I’ll be one of the first to admit that my game is almost 100% psychological, and giving me a weapon like this is akin to you telling me you want me to have all your chips.

However, it is a slow process. In fact, Sam Farha has said that Texas Hold'em is a boring game. Personally, I don’t see how this can be true. You’ve got eight, sometimes nine other players at the table when it’s full, acting and reacting to the cards in front of them. What are they doing with the cards in front of them? I played a hand the other day, totally blind, based on information that I had about the two players to my left, as they were in the blinds, and I was on the button.

This was after the rebuy period had ended, and we had taken a break. About four hands after we had started back up, the button came to me. Now, most at this particular table were of the type that couldn’t wait to see what cards they had in front of them. As for me, I don’t think my cards are going to go anywhere, so, I don’t really look at them until it is my turn to act. However, on this hand, I didn’t even do that, as everyone had folded to me. I grabbed a handful of chips of my stack, counted out 600, and pushed them in. “600,” I announced, and looked at the small blind who mucked immediately as I knew she would. The guy in the big blind looked at me, looked at his cards again, and finally figured out that they hadn’t changed, and tossed them to the dealer.

After the dealer pushed the blinds to me, I said to the table, “I should probably look at my cards,” which I did, and saw that I had an Ace Ten off suit. How did I pull off this almost psychic feat?

Easy. I can tell you in one word: Observation. The eyes are truly the window to the soul, and most players can’t hide their initial reaction to their holdings, and these two were no different. I had picked up almost imperceptible nuances of disgust from observing facial reactions during the tournament up to that point, and used the information to my advantage.

Now, these weren’t obvious tells that you’ll read about in any book, as they were specific to these particular players. And I probably won’t see them again anytime soon. It is about here that I should give you some sort of warning like, “Don’t try this at home.” As I honestly can’t tell you what I would’ve done had either of them called, and we had seen a flop. What I can tell you is that I would’ve followed my pre flop raise with a post flop bet, however, I can’t rightfully tell you that they would’ve folded at that point, as we never got there.

Could I have done this, had I too been reading or distracting myself in some other way, instead of paying attention to the game at hand? Probably not. So, to review, wait, observe, and wait some more. At some point your patience will be rewarded, and hopefully, you won’t be bored.

72 and sunny in Redondo Beach.

Next time, I'll write about poker. Be there. Aloha.

Disclaimer: The above tournament tactics will probably not work in a cash game. Let me know if they do.

Matches Malone has been writing for us for a few years now, and if you'd like to contact him with your opposing views, he can be reached at Batman@azteca.net