A midnight emergency had my girlfriend and I take to the road. We'd run out of that vital commodity, hot dog buns, and a trip to the 24hr supermarket was necessitated. Not two minutes out of the house, and the police pulled us over. When Officer Barbrady steps out of his meat wagon and plods on over to the window, you have a few moments for reflection. The ensuing conversation can go one of two ways. Either you suck up your pride, and listen to the patronizing cautionary tale of how your minor driving infraction was both naughty and very dangerous, or he can give you some points on your licence.
If the law enforcer feels he is in control of the conversation, he is less likely to get out his book and write your ass up. Feigning a certain amount of fear, and under no circumstances trying to argue or outwit the man with the pencil of power, can help your cause enormously.
It always amuses when someone reacts to a situation in a manner that's the complete polar opposite to how I would. That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from giggling when the missus wound down the drivers window and yelled... "What the hell are you pulling me over for?"
In live poker, when there’s often nothing much better to do than observe your opposition, it’s inevitable that you’ll see decisions being made all the time where you would have done things completely differently. Why does it seem sometimes that no-one has the good sense to keep these thoughts to themselves? Everybody is an expert after a hand has concluded, and will not require invitation to offer their analysis on why what you did was daft.
I’m a big criminal when the questions start coming my way, in that I always seem to answer them truthfully. Why do I give my opponents a free insight into what I’m doing? It makes no sense, I even give honest answers to the eternal question "what did you have?" It’s come back to bite me in some big tournaments, but I still do it. A need for being Mr. Nice Guy seems to outweigh a need to win. That and I'm the world's worst liar.
Playing a cash game in Glasgow the other day, a large pot developed between two players. All the money went in on the flop, a huge re-raise being put in by the straight flush draw with over cards, and a huge call being made by 2nd pair. Two blanks landed and, with an almighty fist pumping whoop, the winner of the hand was pushed the mountain of chips. The loser shook his head, perhaps lamenting his bad luck at not having hit one of his 97 outs, perhaps expressing disapproval at the winners un-gentlemanlike celebrations.
The winner of the pot went crazy at this gesture, starting to shout and yell at the head shaker. "You think I’m a bad player, well who’s got the chips?" etc etc. Talk about getting it quietly, you can bet no-one went on to ask him question as to what he was thinking when he played the hand.
I suppose that’s one way to avoid all the post mortem critiquing and enquiries from the sidelines, pre-empting them by having a tantrum every time you win a pot. The problem I have with that is you have to be an obnoxious arsehole for it to work. Too far removed from Mr. Nice Guy for my liking, there’s got to be another way.
The biggest fish in the game that night gave me an idea. Upon being questioned why he called a huge raise with some raggy rhombi, the answer was that "No diamonds had been on the flop for a fair while, so some of them were bound to land soon." Brilliant!
If anyone questions my play from now on, I’m just going to think of the biggest load of nonsense to spout. Anyone who asks "what did you have?" will get the insta-response "pocket twos". Even if the flop comes deuce deuce deuce, I will swear blind that pocket twos was my hand.
People will know it’s a joke, and as everyone supposedly loves a comedian, it’s not a million miles away from Mr. Nice Guy. Vitally, however, it is far enough removed from Mr. Open Book to be significant. The free-information gravy train must stop and this might just do the trick.
I knocked the missus at the start of the article, but to be fair, the policeman didn’t end up giving her any sort of ticket or penalty. This outcome combined with the cash game fish providing a little inspiration makes me think… maybe we all have a lot more to learn off the fish than we realize? I have a new found respect for muppets and muppetry.