A table for two

If you’re worried that playing too much poker can put an undue strain on a relationship, let me assure you that this is far from the case. In fact, in my experience the reverse is true. Having a boyfriend who is as addicted to the game as I am (ok, yes, he got me into it) means mundane worries over who does the washing-up or feeds the cats vanish into the ether as we fight about the important things in life: when to re-raise all-in and how not to go out on the bubble.

Here’s a tip, for starters. When playing online poker, always click on the other players’ notes. These are invaluable to track tells or patterns in their play, plus it’s always worth noting when a player talks about “owning” the table. The latter won’t help your poker but it’s always useful to identify the table tosser. However, when the notes say: “plays tight, only raises with big hand” but a subsequent reference suggests that the player is “a loose maniac, all-in with any two cards”, you’re in trouble.

This is because you are playing poker on the same account as your boyfriend. Don’t do it. Remember, you are a rock and he is somewhat more creative. Other players will adapt to your play accordingly, so all notes you have made on other players will subsequently be rendered invalid.

Here’s a case study from earlier in the week. I’ve started a NLHE multi-table tournament, and it has to be said, I’m playing appallingly. Beginning with an uncharacteristically loose play under the gun by raising with A5, I lose half my stack after running into AK on an A99 flop. This is lunacy. I never do this. I’m known for being too rocky a player, if anything. So why did I do this? Because the player is from Winnipeg. And has an avatar that looks like Geri Halliwell. And my player notes read ‘loose maniac bluffer’ (This is based on my own recent finding that Canada, in poker terms, is in fact the new Scandinavia. Meaning that the players are loose as hell and all think they’re Gus Hansen.)

This is bad news for both the bankroll, and my Mars/Venus counter theory. I seem to be living up to the Venus stereotype, and my female intuition has let me down in a big way. This is compounded by the fact that despite my boyfriend’s insistence, I resolutely refuse to re-raise an exceptionally cute puppy from Bergen when I’m on the button with AK, because, well, he’s so cute. Naturally, cute Bergen puppy’s 77 takes the hand down. Note to self: cute dog will come back to bite you. Hard and on the arse. Do not ever fall for the cuteness of an avatar ever again.

Another tip: when you’re sitting next to your boyfriend and he’s trying very hard to concentrate on his game, do not focus overly on other players’ avatars. As the last example proves, they are often misleading. And you will make your boyfriend lose his temper by constantly asking him: “who’s the monkey?” He will always reply, “It’s Stu The Kid Ungar”. It is not my fault that the ubiquitous picture of Stu Ungar looks like a monkey. But I may have inadvertently put my boyfriend on tilt.

The truth is that none of this is really about gender. It’s all about having different poker ambitions. Mine is not to go broke and to impress my opponents by playing a technically perfect game, his is to actually make money. How vulgar, yet somehow right. Despite what I think are some atrocious plays, his final table places speak for themselves, whereas I seem to have taken up permanent residence on the bubble.

Regardless, to preserve the integrity of my poker relationship, and in the spirit of St Valentine, I have done the decent thing this week, and stepped away from the tables. And I shouldn’t complain; his bankroll is taking us to the Caribbean, after all. Venus has come good!