Help Yourself AND Your Bankroll?

It's been a while since I was so deeply into the game of poker that I'd read almost any book on the subject I could get my hands on. But I came across a book recently that spoke straight to that old interest in a new and unique way.

Writer and psychologist Maria Konnikova recently published a book called The Biggest Bluff: How I Learned to Pay Attention, Master Myself, and Win. It has a irresistible (to me) and hooky premise: one day, Konnikova -- who knew literally nothing about poker (not even the number of cards in a deck) -- decided that the game was a valuable proxy for life lessons. She resolved to pick up poker and, within a year, be playing at the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas.

To aid in this endeavor, Konnikova was able to convince poker pro Erik Seidel to mentor her. (As the book tells it, he found her argument compelling that psychology was a strong background from which to study poker.) If you're even casually familiar with poker, you probably known Seidel as the "sucker" who had one put over on him by Johnny Chan in a hand made infamous in the movie Rounders. Contrary to this impression, Seidel is in fact one of the most successful players of all time, and this book is some excellent rehab on his reputation if Rounders is your only exposure to him.

What The Biggest Bluff is not is a strategy book -- not primarily, at least. It is larger part a self-help book, and in larger part still a classic underdog narrative. Each of those components is compelling, as are the many side narratives Konnikova weaves into her tale -- such as the "know the person, not the odds" side game known as Lodden Thinks, or the tragic downfall of poker pro Paul "X-22" Magriel.

The prose isn't always perfect. I feel as though anyone less familiar with poker would be making extensive use of the book's glossary of terms. And the "life lessons" Konnikova is drawing from poker on the way aren't always explicitly spelled out -- though there is certainly wisdom in these pages if you pull it from the surrounding narrative.

You do get a real sense of how much work it would be to play poker professionally, how exhausting it would be to perform at a high level. You might not yourself have thought "all they do is sit there" in exactly those words, but this book would definitely disabuse you of that notion. Konnikova makes clear how much intense focus is required at all times to succeed at a poker table.

I found The Biggest Bluff to be a brisk and fun read. I'd give it a B+. While I found its strongest component to be the "can she do it?" goal of World Series play she sets out for herself, it might just be a book worth revisiting every so often for the advice about "maximizing your play" at life.

Fold

Yesterday, the FBI dropped the hammer on online poker, indicting three of the largest online poker web sites and their top brass with bank fraud, money laundering, and a variety of other charges. This is all pursuant to the law passed by Congress about four-and-a-half years ago (which I mentioned at the time) -- a last-minute rider grafted into an unrelated port defense bill (that no elected official would vote against for fear of looking "soft on terror").

There are so many arguments why this is wrong, you can have your pick. Why prohibit something online that's legal and acceptable in person? Why is it okay for states to sponsor true gambling in the form of lotteries, when they prohibit the decidedly more skill-based poker? Why not allow it and tax it as a source of revenue in these times when so many claim to be concerned about budgets?

The bottom line is, regardless of the outcome of these charges, these three sites are surely done for. Most of the others will probably fold up too, being too reliant on U.S. business and too afraid now to risk a similar fate. There may be some sites that keep rolling on the strength of non-U.S. players/customers, but we'll have to see.

We sure can't have people enjoying themselves in the privacy of their own homes, dammit!

Round of Applause

Whenever I head out on a trip to Las Vegas, I'll often try to make time for some appropriately themed movie before I go. It's not really superstition or anything; I just like the idea of "setting the mood" for the trip. I've watched Ocean's Eleven (the remake, not the mind-numbing original), Swingers, plenty of others.

This trip, I watched one of my favorite movies, Rounders. Though not a single frame of the movie is actually set in Las Vegas, the poker theme is certainly appropriate. I can think of no other movie that treats poker more authentically than this one. In almost every hand, players behave intelligently. The hands make sense, and you can even apply real life poker skills to "reading" them before they're revealed if you've never seen the movie before. Plenty of real terminology is used, sometimes explained, sometimes not. There's just a true love of the game at the heart of this movie, something I never see in other poker films and TV that feature irrational behavior, string-betting, dumb luck, and more.

If Rounders were only about that, I'd probably still like it. But what makes it a truly great film to me is that this is only one small piece of the whole. Maybe even the smallest one. The film is really about a simple message: "you are who you are; you can't be any other way." We see it in the protagonist, who tries to suppress his poker-playing skills in favor of a more "respectful" career as a lawyer. We see it on the other end of the spectrum in his best friend, a world-class screw up who drags both of them down with his impulsive behavior.

I might be trumping this film up to be more important than it actually is, but I find this "moral" helpful to be reminded of every so often, whether by watching this film or by some other means. Be who you are; don't try to be something you're not. I find this more inspiring than the specifics of watching a young man possibly on the path to winning big at poker.

I suspect that the actors involved were really on board with this deeper meaning beneath the poker trappings too. Otherwise, I can't easily explain why so many phenomenally talented performers wound up in the same fairly obscure, comparatively low-budget movie.

You've got Matt Damon in the lead role, fresh off his Good Will Hunting Oscar win and suddenly a hot commodity in Hollywood. He's sympathetic and charming, and deftly handles the abundant voice-over narration in the film. (Something few actors can do well.)

Ed Norton plays his trouble-making buddy, and effectively makes you want to reach into the screen and choke the crap out of him even more than you want to cheer him on in any film where he plays the hero.

John Turturro is a Yoda-like mentor to Damon's impetuous Luke, calm and cool, and a major force in the film despite limited screen time. Especially effective is a climactic scene in which he dresses down our hero quite thoroughly while never raising his voice.

John Malkovich is absolutely brilliant as the villain that bookends the movie. It's an over-the-top performance for sure, with a borderline mockable accent and silly mannerisms. But the laughs are intentional, and the menace is evident.

Famke Janssen is a sultry presence in the film, arguably not necessary to tell the story, but a welcome and memorable character nonetheless that adds another texture to the whole.

Gretchen Mol's character is the one weak link in the film, though I don't lay the blame on her. She's saddled with playing an unsympathetic character (both in how she treats the main character, and how the audience will see her). It's unfortunate that this admittedly boys' club of a movie can't have this girlfriend character be strong without coming off as, essentially, a "bitch."

Then there's Martin Landau, who might just be my favorite of all in this movie. His character, a professor at the protagonist's law school, delivers the all-important speech in the heart of the movie that expresses the heart of the movie -- that message I'm so keen on. It's a gifted and moving delivery and, even more than Malkovich's wild performance, makes the movie for me every time I watch it.

In short, Rounders is an A in my book. I can't ever watch it as a non-gamer, a non-poker enthusiast, but I'd like to think it would resonate with me anyway. If you've never seen it, I highly recommend it.

Back from Sin City

So I don't have any involved stories to tell about my trip to Las Vegas. Just a few short snippets, and the overall point that I had a really great time.

Going with a friend who had never been to Las Vegas before, I ended up doing a bunch of the typically touristy things, but that was pretty fun. For example, I've probably seen two dozen Bellagio fountain shows over the years, but one of the shows I saw this time was hands down the best I'd ever caught. It was set to the song "One" (from the musical A Chorus Line). Most of the fountains shows just seem to be "turn on the hoses, spin them around a bit; big jets for the grand finale." They could be set to practically any song and you wouldn't know the difference. This one actually had very recognizable choreography to it, almost like an actual chorus line, and it was really neat. Never would have seen it if I wasn't walking around town with my friend.

On the flip side, though, was my trip down to Fremont Street. It's a Catch-22. Everyone who goes to Vegas really should see it. The light show on the four-block long scoreboard-ish thing is an attraction people talk about. The area itself is "authentic" old Vegas. But it's also kind of a dump, and once you've been down there about 45 minutes, you've seen it all and you're ready to hightail it back to the Strip. But of course, we had to go. And sure enough, 45 minutes later, after my friend called it "dirty" or "grungy" or something like that, we were back on the bus. Oh well, you gotta do whatya gotta do.

But something I've done before and was totally happy to do again was go see Ka, the Cirque du Soleil show at the MGM Grand. It's really a fantastic show, and seeing it with my friend the stage manager added another layer of appreciation to it all. That jaw-dropping stage is just... well... jaw-dropping.

I played some poker too, and I've decided that aside from those cool fountains, I probably shouldn't hit Bellagio for entertainment on any future trips. For my third Vegas trip running, I dumped a lot of money at a Bellagio poker table, only to have to try to earn it back elsewhere. I also played at the Mirage this trip; had I just stuck to there, I'd have been up for the duration. It's superstition, I suppose, but I'm gonna go with it next time.

So that was Vegas. A good time was had by all. (Well, both of us.) Aaaaaahhhhhhhh.

Lucky Day

Back from Vegas! And with a few stories to dole out over the next few days or so. (Not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.) But we'll cut right to the chase for some of you who will surely ask -- did I win money?

Short answer: no. I lost about $90. But there's a longer answer.

Through Friday and Saturday, my trip was a pretty typical Vegas experience for me. I was doing really well at poker overall, but was foolishly giving into enough urges to play blackjack and craps with friends to put me only slightly ahead for the trip.

Then came Sunday night, when I burned up every bit of luck I had left for the trip. And I didn't make a dime. And I didn't mind at all.

A group of us had decided to head down to Fremont Street after the wedding on Sunday. Two of the group had never seen old downtown Las Vegas, and so it's just a thing you sort of have to do. And it's pretty lame, and you can see everything there is to see there in an hour or less, and then you're ready to go. But you still have to see it for yourself to know that, and I was willing to tag along.

Then we hopped in a cab and the driver got on I-15 to take us back to where we were staying on the South Strip. We're driving along at a normal pace in the center lane, when up ahead, we see brake lights coming on in the right two lanes about 1000 feet ahead, and people slowing down for something.

At almost the same moment, an SUV comes whipping by us on the right like an F-1 driver, starting to change lanes and cut in front of us barely before he's crept by. Our driver coolly gives the guy a wide berth.

But SUV is already cutting back into the right lane, having cut in front of another driver in that lane. And it's immediately and abundantly clear to both our driver and the other cut-offee in the right lane that Mr. SUV does not see the braking just barely up ahead of him.

What followed was the most violent accident I've ever personally witnessed. SUV slams on his brakes with maybe 200 feet to go, and you can see him start to whip the wheel to get off onto the shoulder. Then you see him almost give up that maneuver, because the top-heavy beast was wobbling, sure to roll over if he'd stayed the course.

Instead, he full-on rear-ended a mini-van going at least 40 miles an hour. I didn't get a clear view of the rest of the physics involved, but two more vehicles (one another mini-van) were brought into it all, one practically T-boned on the passenger side after being whipped around by the impact.

The next part played out even slower in my mind than watching the wreck itself, as our driver calmly moved over to the far left lane and drove by slowly. I was in the front passenger seat, and my window was cracked, and I could hear kids crying from car seats in the backs of both mini-vans. Parents were already scrambling to climb back from their front seats in one. I couldn't see any other movement in the second, but drivers from other cards were already running there. The back end of the third vehicle wasn't even recognizable as having been a car.

It only took a few seconds to get by, but it felt like minutes in my mind as I'm thinking, well, should we stop? What could we possibly do if we did? Look at all these people running to help already. Not to mention the cab driver was already calling it in as we were safely through the snare.

We made it safely to our destination. And the cab driver got a fairly crazy tip from us. (Much later, though, I must confess to the morbid curiosity of whether taxi drivers routinely get large tips for avoiding accidents, and if the misfortune of others is therefore a small boon for them.)

In any case, this burned up every bit of luck I had left for the trip. I played some more poker late last night, and today before flying home, but caught cold cards the entire time. It turned my "slightly ahead overall" into a losing trip to Vegas. But I'll take avoiding a massive accident over winning a few bucks at a low-limit table without complaint.

As a footnote, I just searched some web sites for local Las Vegas news stations, and found no mention of the accident. As I did find a story on a recent unrelated accident that yielded a fatality, I'm going to assume that fortunately, everyone involved in the crash we witnessed survived.

So a happy ending to the story? I suppose. Not a story I would have wanted to be telling, though. Extra glad to be home!

Raise the Stakes

Those of you who don't live in Colorado probably don't know what the laws here have been on legalized gambling for the last nearly two decades. There were very few games allowed, what was allowed was restricted to a few mountain towns, and the maximum bet was $5.

For poker fans, this was more than a little annoying. The game of choice in Colorado casinos was "$5/$5 Texas Hold'Em." The betting increments remained the same on the turn and the river as they were on the flop, because it was illegal to raise them. The larger problem was that people who would gladly have played a larger limit game (or even a no-limit game) had nowhere else to go. The same player who would have jumped into, say, a $20/$40 Hold'Em game would just play the $5 game, with the expected 1/8th respect for the amount of money he was actually risking relative to what he would be willing to risk.

In other words, most every hand of every poker game in a Colorado casino played with the maximum number of pre-flop raises, and with almost everyone at the table taking every flop. Strategy was out the window.

But a path to change was embarked upon this last November. One of Colorado's staggering number of ballot initiatives this year was to expand limits to $100, allow casinos to remain open 24 hours a day (as they are currently unable to do), and bring in the new games of craps and roulette. Well... actually, the statewide ballot initiative was to allow three specific mountain towns -- with actual populations of around 200 -- to vote on whether to allow it for themselves.

That passed, and now in turn, the three cities are scheduling their own votes. Two are happening in January, but one just took place this week. And the result? A resounding yes!

The change won't go into effect until July, but it is officially on the way. With more money structures now possible, players will be better able to find a game that suits them. And I won't have to travel all the way to Vegas to try a repeat of that insane run of craps. (Alright, I'll be realistic -- that was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing. If that, even.)

In any case, I'm officially excited.

A Losing Hand

This week, a co-worker loaned me the movie The Grand, a low-profile poker-themed movie that slipped by unnoticed earlier this year. He did warn me up front that it wasn't that good, but he figured I might find more to like in the movie than he did, since I'm a fan of poker.

Certainly, the movie looked like it could be good on paper. It's a largely improvisational comedy about the six crazy contestants at the final table of a major poker tournament. The cast includes Woody Harrelson, David Cross, Dennis Farina, Cheryl Hines, and others -- people who can be very funny.

But it never quite gets rolling here.

First of all, the poker is terrible. I don't expect stellar poker from a movie. It's a movie's job, foremost, to tell a story, and I can forgive a few factual inaccuracies when it serves something greater. But the bad poker here is pervasive.

Real poker player (and sometimes commentator) Phil Gordon plays himself as a poker commentator in this film, and the filmmakers have got him saying blatant crap most of the time. On one occasion, he states that "only one possible hand" could beat one revealed by a major character, when in fact there are nearly a dozen possible in that situation. On another occasion, he calls different suits for the cards we're shown in a player's hand. And these are simply the most conspicuous examples. On screen percentages for "chance to win" on hands are calculated incorrectly. Bad strategy from supposed pros (and real life poker pros playing themselves) occurs all over the place. This movie is frankly more painful to watch if you know anything about poker.

So, is there a funny movie here, beyond the mistakes? Unfortunately, not really. There are a handful of decent laughs here and there, but they're spread mighty thinly across a movie that runs nearly an hour and forty-five minutes. Sure, David Cross made me laugh out loud once or twice here, but he does that much more frequently in any given 22 minutes episode of Arrested Development.

There's not really any point to the plot when all is said and done. It's more just a character study; here's six people, aren't they weird? From that, some story must follow, right?

I rate the movie a D+. No doubt you missed this in its brief theatrical run earlier this year. It's nothing to go back for.

Antici................................... pation

The 2008 World Series of Poker had recently gotten started when I was in Las Vegas for my vacation not long ago. And I thought that by right about now, it would be culminating in the conclusion of the Main Event.

Not so.

This year, the decision was made to play the Main Event down to the final table of nine players, and then send them all away with no outcome. This gives ESPN time to lazily spool out their coverage as they have done for the last several years, stretching the Main Event out to provide around two months of weekly content for their network. And only then, when they've finally caught up and aired everything leading up to the final table... only then will they reconvene those nine players to actually conclude the event.

That won't be happening until November.

I think this sucks royally on a few levels. Some of the reasons are mentioned in that article I linked to.

First, the down time of four months will give players time to thoroughly research the play styles of any famous competitors at the final table. This definitely goes against the "just your wits and endurance" ethic I feel the WSoP Main Event has always had.

Secondly, there was something to be said about the marathon of endurance to play the whole event in one stretch. That much concentration, that much sleep deprivation, that much focus, all in one run.... that's also part of what the event is about. Now granted, this wasn't always the case, since the size of the Main Event has increased by literally dozens of times since the poker boom of this decade. Nevertheless, I think that's part of what the event has become today, and you know this change isn't happening to "return to the ways of old." It was done because ESPN asked for it.

But there's one other thing that bugs me about this the most. This wasn't even mentioned in the article, I suppose because only nine people in the world will be affected by it: can you imagine being one of the people who actually made that final table? There you are, right on the cusp, just a few more hours to go, and you might win $9,000,000!

In four months.

Can you imagine what a hell your life would be for those four months? Would you be able to think about anything else, ever? How could you get through a day without drowning in the anxiety of thinking that there might somehow be something you could be doing to improve your chances for the battle of your life coming up in November? How could you not begin to doubt the skills that got you that far in the first place, and find yourself getting rattled and in fact sabotaging your chances to win?

Man, that would suck. I mean, don't get me wrong, if it could be me waiting four months for a chance to sit at the final table of the WSoP Main Event, don't think I wouldn't want that.

I'm just sayin'...

*results not typical

I've returned from my Las Vegas excursion! A good time was had by all.

For those who've expressed an interest in good poker stories, let me just simply say it was not a pretty picture. Aside from my first night there, nothing seemed to go right for me. Combinations of bad decision making, bad rivers, and poor starting hands made it a really poor four days of poker for me. The poker story that I think sums up my trip in a nutshell: I did get dealt pocket Aces one time on the trip, but I ended up showing down to the river with one other player who had the other two Aces, and we split the pot.

Now, I was having fun regardless. But the trip would have been a financial disaster were it not for craps. Even as I say that now, I have a hard time actually believing it.

It started Tuesday morning. Some people wanted to ride the New York New York roller coaster. We went and looked; closed for wind.

Alright, how does poker for a while at MGM sound? But we go, and there aren't any limit tables in play at the time, which we all wanted.

How about craps? We said we kinda wanted to play craps a little bit at a table that's $5 or less. But like we're gonna find that anywhere on the South Strip. Let's go downtown and do that later.

Fine, wanna try another big poker room like Caesar's or Mirage or something? Fine, but it's 100 degrees out and the wind is blowing like a convection oven; let's take a cab.

So we're walking to the MGM lobby to get that cab, and happen to walk by a completely empty craps table. And amazingly, it has a $5 minimum. Now, I'm not really convinced I want to play craps this trip. I was still bound and determined to make the poker thing work. But I was perfectly happy to stand with them for 15 or 30 minutes or whatever while my two friends did what they wanted to do.

Each of them throws down $60, and starts in with the simple betting: straight pass line, taking odds on the point. Winner! Winner!

Okay, some confidence is building here. Add one come bet, and we'll take odds on that. Winner! Winner! Winner!

Well, okay, it didn't really go that long without a single crap out, but the point of the story is, more good than harm was happening, and very soon, my two friends had their nerve up enough to do what many will tell you is the best approach to craps (short of not playing it): run a pass line bet and two come bets at all times, all with odds, and wait for those to hit.

They're each up in the neighborhood of about $300 when I decide I'm missing out on something cool, so I throw in my three $20 bills, just as they did, and get in on the ride.

By this point, they've built up enough confidence and profit that they're willing to flirt with $10 bets even though it's just a $5 table. Me, I start small and timid, just as they did. But I go on a 35 minute run as shooter, interrupted only when I loft the dice off the table once.

By now, the limit at the table's been raised to $10 while we've been there, but we're grandfathered in at the lower rate. Not that it matters that much, because I'm now up about $150, and each of my friends has got an impressive rack of $25 chips started.

Next up, Sangediver is throwing, and the other friend happens to get "out of step" one bet -- he misses a come bet in a distracted moment, or when his drink arrives, or whatever. So he places his one throw of the dice later, and now his "third bet" on the table is in a different place from the two of ours.

And every single time, we're trailing one bet behind him as Sangediver hits one after the other after the other after the other. The dealer finally "moves me up" and starts paying me in $25 chips, which would be awesome any other craps run, but meanwhile, the third member of our group has earned his first $100 chip.

My brother-in-law calls something like two hours into this insanity. "Oh, we're playing craps at MGM, and we are NOT leaving." He comes to find us and actually join in, but by this point, Sangediver now has more than a couple $100 chips, I'm standing with my own impressive rack of $25s, and the third friend has managed to secure his first $500 chip.

"We're gonna get you one of everything we've got on the table, man!" says a dealer.

Other players come and go, total strangers, each stopping by long enough to... I don't know, make a couple hundred, lose a hundred, I'm so not paying attention. We do keep passing the dice around. It's not like we're never losing. But we're having average runs of about 20-30 minutes as shooters, and the stacks keep going up and up and up and up.

I never quite get the nerve to start throwing around $25 chips like they're candy, but I do earn a $100 chip or two in this chaos.

But meanwhile, the third friend earns his first $1000 chip.

And then his second.

Four hours, about 12 dealer rotations, and 117 "holy shits!" later, each of us has pulled out a certain amount of money we're pledging not to give back to casino. But it's still a total rush. Between bets for the dealers and straight-out tips, I expect there's been something like another $500 we've made as a group that we never even really saw.

I know the dealers are suppose to say things to make you feel good and have a good time, but I swear it felt like this one meant it when he said "I have never seen a run like this." Every time a new dealer comes in, one who had been there points to the stack and says, "they all started with $60 each."

The third friend has now taken those two $1000 chips off the table by this point. I'm not sure if we're all collectively looking for reasons to stay or reasons to leave, but one more dealer rotation around, and the guy we'd been having the most fun with in all of this looks at us and says:

"I'm telling you, the dice don't stay hot like this. You really should leave."

We played out that round, each of our group shooting, and then we did just that.

We all bought in for $60. My brother-in-law, who arrived latest to the party and played most conservatively, roughly doubled that.

I walked away with about $450.

Sangediver had over $1400.

And the leader of our pack was pushing $2200.

For those who don't want to do the math, that last number represents over 35 times his starting stake.

This was the highlight of the trip. Possibly the highlight of any trip I've taken to Vegas. I'd have never predicted it, but there you go.

Vegas Redux

It's vacation time again. Do I have any desire to go places other than Las Vegas? Oh yes, definitely. But it's convenient and a hell of a lot of fun. And it wasn't my idea; actually, my brother-in-law pitched the trip, and only then did I think, "you know, I really should take a few days and go somewhere."

So I'll be gone until Wednesday night, relaxing, seeing shows, playing poker... you know.

But...

...this time, the Maneuvers will keep coming in my absence! One of the missing Blogger features that drove Shocho into the arms of another blog service has now been added: scheduled posting. So, I've got a few whatevers set up for the next couple days until I'm back.

Thought that does mean this week's discussion of The Mole will have to wait until I return and can actually watch it.

Let's play some cards!

The World Series (Not About Baseball)

Tonight, ESPN finally got around to airing the final table of the Main Event at this year's World Series of Poker. For years now, I've been a bit perplexed as to why they drag it out so long (well, okay, ratings in theory) and why they wait to air it until so long after the fact. The final table actually took place almost two-and-a-half months ago.

So again, as usual, I've known for a while now who the ultimate winner was destined to be, and was watching on a week to week basis to see the how rather than the who. The who in this case being another amateur, Jerry Yang -- reinforcing the theory that the Main Event field of competition (over 6,000 this year) has grown too large for a pro player to ever be likely to overcome the combined luck of so many amateurs and win again.

This time, though, I have to say that the last few pros in the event gave it away. Almost to a man, every pro in the top 36 (the field on the penultimate day) copped an attitude at some point. They saw "some amateur" pushing at them, responded with a high and mighty "you can't push me around," and then ended up losing a big hand. And then they went on tilt and threw the rest of their chips away trying to undo the damage. It happened most notably to Scotty Nguyen, but also to a half dozen other lesser known professional players that had the winner's bracelet within their grasp.

Sure, this year's winner got stupidly lucky at the right times, like Jamie Gold and Chris Moneymaker in other recent years. But where I'd say luck was almost the only factor in their wins, bad pro play contributed to the new champion Jerry Yang. Those two factors together gave Yang a big chip stack, and then he played reasonable (if not completely skilled) "big stack poker" and muscled his opponents into defeat.

It was a disappointing few hours of poker to watch.

A Light on the Subject

As a game designer and enthusiast, I have often been involved in discussions about the difference between a "sport" and a "game." Usually, these conversations get started when the subject of televised poker comes up -- specifically the fact that the World Series of Poker is covered on ESPN.

I've never made the claim that just because ESPN covers it, it must be a "sport." Strangely, though, people have come after me on the attack about this before, as if I'm somehow validating it as a sport for watching it on that network. Like it matters to me who is carrying it; I've watched poker on the Travel Channel, NBC, the Game Show Network, ESPN... pretty much whoever has it. Anyway, point being: I do not think poker is a sport.

Though I'd never considered the sport/game question where Disc Golf is concerned, I saw something at the course tonight that made me develop a new litmus test for this issue. I've decided this:

It can't be a sport if you can smoke leisurely while playing it.

I saw two guys on one of the tee pads, each with a cigarette in hand. In turn, they oh-so-casually held the cigarette in their mouths as they whipped a sidearm drive off toward the basket, then flicked their ashes as they walked off slowly toward their discs. Nothing about the way they were playing made it look in any way like an "activity," and yet they weren't throwing that badly at all.

So, like I said, the thought came to me: "clearly, not a sport." (Well, the first thought was, "they'd better not throw their butts down on the ground when they finish," but... you know... after that...)

By the smoking test, bowling definitely fails. I'm pretty sure regular golf does too. (The fact that you probably couldn't find a club that would let you smoke while you were playing doesn't change the fact that you easily could.) Curling? Not a sport.

On the other hand, I've heard some people quip that horse racing is a sport only for the horse. But the smoking test says otherwise. I'd like to see a jockey enjoying a casual cigarette while participating in the Kentucky Derby. Not a chance. Ergo, sport.

Auto racing? Well, lots of people smoke while they drive, but I don't think you could so leisurely while driving one of those cars. Sport it is, then.

That's my new definition, until someone burns a hole in that theory, anyway.

The Cadillac of Poker

Sunday night, after a delayed airplane flight, I returned from Las Vegas a winner -- both in the sense that I had a great time (which was the main thing I was looking to get), and that I was up a bit in the money from the time I spent at the casino.

Most of that was at the poker table. The last time I visited Las Vegas was around eight years ago, before I really starting playing and following poker. So this was the first time I'd ever actually played poker in any of the Vegas casinos. I hit most of the big ones -- and one decidedly "not big" one.

First was the Tropicana. I went there my first night in Vegas, just because it was close to where I was staying. Their poker room was only about five tables, and only two of those were in play when I arrived. (Though there are some casinos in Vegas that have no poker room at all, such as New York New York, so I suppose it could be worse.) The only game they were running was a $1-$2 No Limit Hold 'Em game. I hadn't had any intention of playing a No Limit game, but that's the one I found that first night, so in I went. And I was doing well for a time. But then came the no-win scenario:

I'm dealt pocket Kings, and make a big raise. I'm called by only one player, who had limped in before me pre-flop. The flop comes. Three different suits, nothing higher than a Jack. My opponent bets into me. I go all in. I'm instantly called. You probably know where this story is going -- pocket Aces. And an Ace came on the turn, just for good measure. That was the end of the No Limit story that should never have happened to begin with.

Day two was Caesar's Palace. A curious environment. On the one hand, spacious and upscale in appearance. On the other, they seemed to be the only casino on the strip "slumming it" (in my opinion) with a bad beat jackpot drop. But on this occasion, I was waiting while my sisters took in a show at Caesar's, so I decided to stay there and play it out. No major hands to speak of. I was close to even when my time was up.

Day three, The Mirage. Nice place. Cold cards. Frigid. By the time I finally got some hands worth playing, I'd actually been recognized as a tight player, even at a low limit table -- which, folks, is pretty hard to do. Everyone was folding to any raise from me, but the good hands were still few and far between. I'd opened things up to raising just on any Ace, regardless of table position. Completely ridiculous behavior. But nobody would even take a flop with me. Before I could ever learn whether any kind of equilibrium could be established, it was time for me to pick up and head to a show we had tickets for.

Day four, Bellagio. Really nice place. And a really drunk trio of people from Seattle who sat at my table the entire time, buying in for $100 after $100, and losing it all. I spent four happy hours there, making up for all my poker losses thus far, not to mention a few $20s dropped for fun on a craps table the night before. My only complaint was about the Bellagio poker chips. They must have recently changed them or something, because the paint was coming off them something awful. I happened to notice after a few deals that the dealer's palms were so covered, he could have been strangling Smurfs during his breaks. By the end of the session, my fingertips were so covered, I had to constantly remind myself not to scratch my face unless I wanted to audition for the Blue Man Group.

The final day, MGM Grand. For some reason, they want to be different from all the other kids, and their poker tables have a thick marble border surrounding the felt playing area. A little awkward, but worth living with, since I won again there.

For all the coverage Texas Hold 'Em gets on television these days, it's remarkable how many people you'll find in a casino are still really bad at it.

Royale Treatment

As I mentioned earlier, I did get the chance to see the new James Bond movie, Casino Royale, while I was on my work trip to GenCon SoCal. I've now had nearly a week to think about my response to the film, and I have to say that my opinion of it has diminished a bit the more I think about it.

As I felt at the time, I have to say the film was "good, but not great." They did a number of things that I really liked. This movie is more physical, realistic, and visceral than any Bond movie has been for a long time... maybe ever. It honestly feels more like the two Bourne movies (Identity and Supremacy) than a James Bond movie. You could decide to see that as a good thing or a bad thing, but I'm going to call it a good thing. It made it possible to enjoy the movie emotionally, and not just on a whiz-bang level.

There are a number of sequences in the movie that are excellent. The first fifteen minutes or so are superb. The prologue is very artfully done, letting you know clearly that this isn't going to be the run-of-the-mill approach to Bond. The opening credits sequence (always a point to mention when discussing a Bond movie) is one of the best the franchise has ever had. And the following action sequence involving "free running" is really neat -- it wonderfully straddles a line of being over-the-top-James-Bond fantasy without actually seeming implausible, because you know that much of it is not camera or special effects tricks.

The acting is great. Daniel Craig makes a solid James Bond, and I'll look forward to more movies with him. I think Pierce Brosnan got a bit of a bum deal, since of the four Bond movies he made, only the first one (GoldenEye) was any good -- and because of the scripts, not for any fault of his own. In any case, Craig (and the other actors in the cast) elevate the material.

And therein is my big problem. It is material in need of elevating. After a rock solid opening salvo, the film starts to lose steam. By about an hour into it, I found myself impatiently checking my watch. The middle crawls. The poker scenes are fairly bad -- but I admit to coming at as someone way too into poker. In dumbing down the set-up of the hands enough for them to play to a broad audience, they became laughable to anyone who knows anything about poker. I found it no challenge to read the hole cards of every player in every significant hand, and it made the actual characters silly and stupid that they could not. No tension, either.

The movie picked up again in the last twenty minutes or so, but noticeably, many people had already left the theater. There came a point after about two hours where literally a dozen or two dozen people got up and left the theater. Did they really think the movie was over at that point? Were they just bored regardless? I suppose I'll never know, but it's pretty telling that you've got that many people walking out of a James Bond movie.

So, great cast, great stylistic take. Outstanding opening, decent ending. But it was like an Oreo where the cream in the middle had somehow gone bad. (I don't know if that can even actually happen to an Oreo. Probably not.)

I'm left with a good feeling for future Bond films in the franchise, even though I'm not left with an altogether favorable opinion of this one. I give it a B-.

Every Man For Himself

So far this season, it seems like only every other episode of Lost is really doing it for me. But tonight was the "on" week.

My main criteria of a good Lost episode were in evidence tonight. There were lots of very important character moments as the relationship between Sawyer and Kate was really tested by the Others. There was an interesting and relevant flashback as we saw a new chapter from Sawyer's past -- we got to see exactly what Sawyer meant by "every man for himself" and "when you let them in, that's when they can hurt you." Fun head games with the Others, as they, in Ben's words, "conned the con."

There admittedly wasn't much in the way of island plot progression, but I didn't mind. The tiny snippets of Desmond testing his "future sight" were intriguing enough. (The question is, is he repeatedly glimpsing the future? Or was he given one flash of things to come, and is now working off of what he saw? Or something else?)

I couldn't help but wonder if we'll be seeing some of the characters in Sawyer's flashback again at some point down the road, since so many of them were played by recogizable actors. Not "A list," necessarily, but working folks in Hollywood that you know if you've watched much film or television. There was Bill Duke as the prison warden, a familiar face in everything from Battlestar Galactica to Karen Sisco to Predator to Payback and who-knows-what-else. Ian Gomez as the victim of Sawyer's prison con, a recurring fixture on Felicity and The Drew Carry Show. And there was Kim Dickens as the mother of Sawyer's child, best known for her role on Deadwood. In other words, a lot of good acting talent to just "waste" in small parts in one episode.

But then, they did just take another Deadwood actor, Paula Malcomson, and shoot her in the one episode she appeared in (unless you count watching her die on the operating table tonight). Too bad.

As a footnote, I thought I'd mention that tonight on The Nine, we saw one of the main characters playing online poker. Filmed months ago, of course. It was both a laugh and a sad reminder all at the same time, and all unintentional.

Drawing Dead

Roughly a week ago, on their last day in session before adjourning to bother you full time with their commercials and recorded phone calls, Congress passed a bill to outlaw payment to online gambling sites. This is a form of the bill I mentioned a few months ago, with an important distinction: it was tacked onto a totally unrelated port security bill, in one of the government's most time-dishonored tactics. Bush signed the bill on Friday.

In response to the new law, many online poker web sites immediately suspended all U.S. money accounts. But a few are forging ahead, forcing the issue with the declaration that poker is a game of skill, not chance. And I hope it's forced sooner rather than later, because... well, simply: this totally sucks. Sure, it's far from the worst thing that our elected officials have done in the past few years.

But that list was already so damn long. Did it really need this too?

A Chimp and a Chair

They say all it takes in poker is "a chip and a chair." In this year's World Series of Poker, Pokershare.com is out to prove that it takes even less than you think. They have staked "Mikey the Chimp," a trained chimpanzee who plays No-Limit Texas Hold 'Em, in the 2006 WSoP Main Event. You can read a short article about this total insanity here.

The web site sponsoring Mikey is offering any player who gets busted out of the tournament by Mikey a free $10,000 stake in next year's Main Event. And nice though that is, I think there's no consolation in the world that could possibly make up for getting knocked out of a poker tournament by a chimpanzee. Can you imagine ever living that down? That's like the opposite of getting knocked out by one of the legendary great players of poker, multiplied exponentially. You could only pray that no one you know would ever find out, except that you know when this event gets covered on ESPN in a few months, they will show footage of any player actually getting beaten by the chimp.

Somehow, I'm thinking there might be a revision to the rulebook before 2007's event.

All In, With Few "Outs"

"Rule #1" of Heimlich blogging is out the window today. This post is unabashedly political. (I may have to downgrade the rule to a guideline, at this rate.) But I know many of my readers will take interest in this one.

This afternoon, the House of Representatives passed a bill to, in essence, ban online gambling. It passed by an overwhelming margin. (Here, incidentally, is how that vote broke down.)

Of course, just taxing it like any other "sin" wasn't an option for the majority of our elected officials. And of course, exemptions had to be carved out so that states could still separate their citizens from their money through the lottery.

If you live in a state with legalized gambling, this law is saying it's okay for you to gamble, so long as you don't do it in the privacy of your own home.

Perhaps most aggravating of all was the exemption also made for horse racing. Gotta let the states where that's big slide through. So essentially, this law is telling you that certain types of gambling are okay, while others are not. Somehow you can "lose your house with the click of a mouse" (to paraphrase the words of one congressman) playing online poker, but not betting on horses online? Idiocy. (Though only slightly more idiotic that the horse racing lobbyists who actually think that online poker players, restricted from their game, would actually turn to horse racing as an alternative.)

Only one obstacle remains before the U.S. Government forces you to fold your poker hands for good -- the Senate. The bad news: there's no reason to expect the bill would not pass there as easily as it did in the House. The good news: this issue has not been debated or prepped for voting in the Senate. There are only four weeks left before our "hard-working" senators take a one-month break until Labor Day, and then only another four weeks after that before they're out of session until the 2006 elections. Procedure dictates that if the bill is not passed before the end of the session in which the House approved it, the House vote is invalidated.

So bottom line: if you're against this law, you have to hope that the government does its typical job of not getting its shit together, and is unable to bring it to a vote in the eight working weeks remaining. Because if it doesn't come to vote, you have the chance to elect new congressmen for 2007 that won't try this crap again.

If it does come to vote? Well, then you'd better write to your senator if this is something you care about, and hope that they actually give a shit. (Unlikely as that may be.)

Otherwise, you're looking for this century's version of a speakeasy.

Nice Rack

You know, I do like Daniel Negreanu. He's one of my favorite poker players, actually. (No comments from the peanut gallery about how big a geek one has to be to have a favorite poker player!)

Still, I have to say... I think the title of his new poker game is extremely ill-advised. Stacked? Seriously?

Hip Hip! Cliche!

There are certain conventions of television and film that really annoy me:

Whenever you see an aquarium in a person's home larger than any you've actually seen in real life, odds are it's going to be smashed in the near future.

When a guy about to go into a dangerous situation looks at a photo in his wallet of his wife and/or children, he will be dead within the next fifteen minutes.

When people are playing poker, they always string raise. ("I see your fifty... (melodramatic pause)... and I raise you eleven hundred thousand!")

When people pay for a cab ride, alcoholic drink, or restaurant bill, they always say "keep the change." Everyone has exactly the right amount of money for the exact amount of tip they want to give.

When someone brings home a bag of groceries, they're always in paper (never plastic), and there's usually a loaf of french bread sticking out the top.

Stop. Please stop.