Listening to: The biggest, saddest dog sigh you’ve ever heard
My gambling hobby has moments of supreme smugness followed by waves of crashing doubt. It seems that most often, when I have a big swing, possibly due to really good cards followed by really bad cards, I inevitably run into these jokers that can’t do math and think they know the secret.
Usually the only secret is that they can’t do basic probability. I don’t find it necessary, frankly, to be the ones to tell them.
Guys like my wife’s bus driver who are convinced that when you’re at a craps table, and the dealer hands the shooter five dice to pick from, all but two of them are weighted. And if you just watch the person who picks up the dice, you know if he shakes the dice in his hand before throwing them, that he knows the secret. Why this guy doesn’t involve the freemasons here I’ll never know.
In contrast, I track my poker playing religiously, using software that records every hand I’ve played online, exactly how much I bet and when, and what other players have in their hands (if they have to show). Granted I’m not making money at it, but at least I approach it from a scientific manner.
However all that seems moot when the cards swing unpredictably, or I suspect there’s a hole in my play that’s costing me money. Then I find myself wondering if these people are correct.
And that’s when it’s time to stop and return to reading about poker, instead of playing it.