Passive Viewing

Dipping into the Olympics here, as I imagine you have been doing as well. It appears that between the rack of channels coming in via the dish and the Roku, we can watch practically anything whenever we want, which is nice.

Funny, though, I’m still finding it preferable in the evening simply to tune into the local NBC channel and let the network decide what events to show me and when. I suppose I fall into the large category of “passive” Olympics viewers. I’m referring to those of us who aren’t super enthused about being delivered every moment from every sport, or even that curious about any one sport in particular.

The same is probably true for most of those who end up watching the WSOP Main Event coverage on ESPN. They aren’t hanging on every twist and turn back in July like some of us, and so it’s actually more palatable for them to watch the sucker get strung out over several months however ESPN sees fit.

Vera is interested in the dressage portion of the equestrian events, of course (which don’t really crank up for a couple of days). And I’m dialing up men’s basketball sometimes, too, particularly when the U.S. is playing as they need earlier tonight. But otherwise, we’re content just to let it play as ambient sound-and-image, looking up whenever the announcers’ excitement captures our attention.

Speaking of that men’s basketball game earlier, the U.S. team found itself tied 18-18 with Venezuela after the first 10-minute quarter. Was a sorta-kinda surprising start considering they’d opened up the Olympics beating China by 57 points and were expected to do something similar in their second game tonight. (The matchup with Australia on Wednesday ought to be more competitive, I’d think.)

Even so, it felt an awful lot like a much-outclassed poker player winning a few pots early on in a session, but destined to lose it all back eventually -- and likely sooner than later. Sure enough the U.S. outscored Venezuela 30-8 in the second quarter, ultimately going on to win by 44.

When games go in that direction, they, too, become part of the background as I do other things, only looking up occasionally to check the score and watch another U.S. fast break.

Image: “Play the long ball,” (adapted), Craig Sunter. CC BY-ND 2.0.

Degrees of Defeat

Had both of those women’s hockey medal games on today as I worked. My attention was divided, but I was looking up frequently whenever play-by-play man Mike “Doc” Emrick’s voice rose in response to a developing situation on the ice.

If you watched as well you know that both matches followed similar plotlines with a team roaring out to a lead while shutting out the opponent, carrying that lead into the final period before the team that was behind staged a stirring comeback to snatch victory away.

In the early tilt for the bronze Sweden was in control with a 2-0 lead through two, then Switzerland scored early in the third, then again, then again to grab the advantage with less than seven minutes to go. An empty-netter was added, then a too-little-too-late response near the close to make the final 4-3 in favor of the Swiss.

Then in the gold medal match the U.S. led Canada 2-0 in the third before the latter scored twice, the second goal coming in the final minute of regulation, then scoring again in overtime to win.

In both cases the heartbreak of the losers was plain to see, their anguish heightened by having come so close to winning and falling short.

The pattern reminded me of some of the conversation following Super Bowl XLVIII in which Seattle smoked Denver 43-8, the outcome essentially decided even before halftime. I’m remembering the sports talk shows afterward debating whether it were preferable to lose a close game -- say, like the previous Super Bowl won by the Ravens over the 49ers by a score of 34-31 -- than to get routed as Denver had been.

The run out of cards after a preflop all-in in hold’em uniquely mimics both scenarios all the time.

The player all in with against an opponent with watches a flop bring three spades and is like the Broncos. Or a flop comes to put the queens way ahead, then a trey and a five bring a backdoor wheel and the all-in player is like Sweden and the U.S. today.

In poker the obvious psychological manipulation of the latter scenario probably makes the analogy less apt. It’s a simulated similarity, you could say, with the order of the community cards suggesting a winning-then-losing sequence when in fact the outcome is the same regardless of the order of the flop, turn, and river. Indeed, any five cards adding up to a loss is more or less equivalent when all of the poker decisions have already been made.

Still, the pain experienced by the loser is often greater after having been teased by the prospect of victory. I think in sports I’d rather my team fight hard and lose a tight one than get crushed. (The pessimist in me is presently imagining both possibilities for my UNC Tar Heels tonight versus Duke, not allowing me to indulge in envisioning a Carolina win.)

In poker, though, I’d rather not go through such runner-runner anguish. Nor would I prefer to play well for much of a hand or session or tourney only to lose focus at the end to lose over being card dead or busting early, if the amount of my loss were the same in both cases that is.

I guess poker teaches us how a loss is a loss, however it comes. The Swedish and U.S. teams would probably disagree tonight, though.

(Photo above tweeted by AP correspondent Oskar Garcia capturing the reaction of U.S. goalie Jessica Vetter as shown on the big scoreboard following Canada's winning overtime goal.)

What Am I Watching?

Like many on this globe, I’ve had the XXII Olympic Winter Games from Sochi on as a more or less uninterrupted accompaniment to household activities for the last week.

Most of the time I’m not fully focused on whichever of the 98 events in 15 different disciplines is on, although once in a while I’ll stop what I’m doing to watch in response to an excited announcer’s reaction or to catch the conclusion of whatever competition is playing out.

Curling strangely keeps my attention, the back-and-forth strategy somehow appealing to me (and reminding me of other two-player games). Hockey does, too, of course. While curling isn’t perhaps an obvious one to figure out for those unfamiliar with the sport, I understand it well enough to recognize what is happening at any given moment, and thus both of those sports require little extra explanation for me.

Last night I became engaged for a while by women’s snowboard cross, one of the events in the snowboarding discipline for which it also seemed immediately apparent what was going on. There were a series of races, with the winners winning and the losers losing. Fast and exciting, with little need to know who was who to get a kind of visceral enjoyment from viewing.

However, for many of the events it is much more difficult to know how performances are measured. As I write I have on something called “Men’s Aerials,” an event I thought at first was part of the “ski jumping” discipline but after looking it up I see it is part of “freestyle skiing.”

There are spectacular jumps with judges awarding points, but I have no idea what a good score is and what a bad score is, and only when a poor fellow crash lands do I know for certain his chances for medaling have decreased.

Sports like these make me think a little of poker’s constant struggle to attract non-poker audiences and the various experiments tried over the years to create “must see” television out of poker cash games or tournaments.

Those who televise the Olympics have established a complicated strategy for presenting unfamiliar sports, one that involves all sorts of editing choices that mix live and delayed programming, combinations of in-game commentary, event-related features, and interviews, and of course the profiles of athletes that have become a hallmark of Olympic narrative-creation. They aren’t always on target, but the programmers have a plan and it generally works for a lot of us.

On Friday I was referencing one recent poker-related debate on Twitter. Last week there was another one concerning whether or not people watch poker on television primarily to learn more about how to play or for other reasons. While a minority maintained education to be the biggest draw, most seemed to suggest that was less of a priority than simply to be entertained (by the competition, the players, the spectacle, and so on).

It’s difficult -- and unfair, really -- to compare the Olympics to other sports or types of programming. And while I might be learning a little bit about these various disciplines and the particular events, I know that primarily what I’m experiencing when I watch is a pleasurable form of distraction that is engaging in an ephemeral way.

When poker was at its most popular on television (nearly a decade ago), it provided similar, fleeting thrills that captured an audience of both players and non-players, watching -- and being compelled to watch -- for all sorts of reasons.

That’s hard to do anymore, I think (again for all sorts of reasons).

On What Is Possible; or, By Nearly Two Feet

Poker players are familiar with how the game often fools us with regard to our own abilities. The game’s not insignificant chance element can confuse even the most level-headed when it comes to understanding what we’ve accomplished (or failed to accomplish) when we play. Indeed, a big part of poker is the way it forces us to think about how we measure ourselves -- both what we’re capable of, and what we’ve ultimately done.

Yesterday I ended up spending some time thinking along these lines -- i.e., with regard to human psychology and ideas about what humans are capable of doing -- though the cause and context of these musings weren’t poker-related, but rather brought on by something else.

I ran across a reference to the fact that the 45th anniversary of Tommie Smith and John Carlos’s “black power salute” on the podium at the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City had come on Wednesday.

That got me reading around about the event and before long I was reading about a 2008 documentary titled Salute. The film tells the story of the event while also bringing to the foreground the role played by the other person standing on the podium, the Australian sprinter Peter Norman, who took silver while Smith won gold and Carlos bronze. Discovering the film streaming on Netflix, I took a look.

Having followed the battle over racial equality in the U.S. while also witnessing similar strife in his own country, Norman supported the American sprinters’ protest. Like Smith and Carlos, Norman wore an Olympic Project for Human Rights button on the dais. The OPHR was an organization founded by the sociologist Harry Edwards in order to protest racial segregation in the U.S., and had even proposed and backed an ultimately unrealized plan for black athletes to boycott the ’68 games.

Norman’s wearing of the button was an unambiguous indication of his support for what many regarded as an outrageously defiant act made by the men standing behind him during the playing of the American national anthem. As the film shows, Norman’s support wasn’t idly given, but the product of his own well-nurtured beliefs in human rights and equality. Salute also explains how like Smith and Carlos, Norman suffered repercussions for action that day and for his statements afterwards in support of the Americans’ protest.

The film is fairly riveting, including lots of primary footage as well as lengthy contributions from all three runners. It was made by Norman’s nephew, and there might be a moment or two where that fact might enter into one’s thinking during the uninterrupted championing of the Australian runner.

But Peter Norman is so unassuming and modest in the film -- and especially persuasive when even-handedly explaining his unwavering humanitarian beliefs -- it’s hard not to come away liking him a lot, and perhaps even being inspired, too. (Norman died in 2006.)

After the film was over, I found myself going back to a favorite sports moment of mine, Bob Beamon’s electrifying world-record long jump at Mexico City that happened two days after the protest -- i.e., 45 years ago today. The protest during the 200-meter medals ceremony was shocking to many, for a variety of reasons. But Beamon leaping 29 feet, 2½ inches was just plain staggering.

I remember as a kid being fascinated with the picture of Beamon hanging in the air in The Guinness Book of World Records, knees up around his chest, arms extended like wings. I love watching YouTube clips of the jump, and don’t think I’ll ever tire of doing so. He bounds through space, lands and immediately springs back up out of the dirt and jumps again. And again. Then jogs around in a way that almost looks like he’s dancing a little.

He has no clue what he’s done.

Afterward Beamon explained “it felt like a regular jump,” although he knew it was good and perhaps even a record-breaker. But it was hardly a regular jump.

When Ralph Boston had broken the 25-year-old record in 1960, his 26’11” jump set a new standard by a couple of inches. The record had then literally inched upward over the next several years, with Boston and Igor Ter-Ovanesyan having each made it to 27’4½” by 1967.

Now Beamon had shattered the record... by nearly two feet!

It took several minutes to measure the jump, as Beamon had gone farther than the optical measuring equipment was set up to record. Then when a figure of “8.90” was finally posted on the scoreboard (representing meters), Beamon still didn’t know immediately what that meant as far as feet and inches went.

Boston -- the former record holder, 1960 long jump gold medalist, and now Beamon’s teammate and coach -- was the one who explained to him what he’d done.

“You really put it all together,” Boston said to him as he explained he’d gone 29’2½”.

I said the jump was staggering. On learning how far he’d gone, Beamon himself actually staggered, falling dramatically to the track as he was momentarily overcome with emotion.

Sure, there was wind and altitude in Mexico City. But Beamon still jumped two-and-a-half feet farther than anyone else would at those games. And even though his record was eventually topped in 1991 by Mike Powell (who went two inches farther), Beamon’s leap nonetheless remains atop most lists as the most stunning moment in sports history.

Watching Salute and thinking about how incredibly tense the world and the U.S. was during that incredible year of 1968, then moving over to the YouTube clips of Beamon, I couldn’t help but formulate a vague thesis that some of Beamon’s extra adrenaline had come from the charged atmosphere surrounding him as he leapt through the air.

I guess both the story of Smith, Carlos, and Norman as well as that of Beamon’s leap highlight ideas about human achievement and how it is possible for us to do things we might believe are beyond our capabilities.

Changes to the Summer Games (Olympics & WSOP)

Busy days mean I have fallen behind when it comes to listening to the Two Plus Two Pokercast, one of the few poker podcasts I check in on regularly these days (along with The Thinking Poker podcast a couple of others). Thus am I only now listening to their Episode 258 (2/13/13), the one with Dan Shak et al.

Was diverted a little by a conversation early in the show between co-hosts Mike Johnson and Adam Schwartz regarding the news (now over a week old) that the International Olympic Committee had announced that starting in 2020, wrestling will no longer be contested at the summer Olympics.

Technically speaking the IOC has only recommended that wrestling be removed from the list of summer Olympic sports, although it sounds highly unlikely it will be voted back in when the IOC meets again in September to ratify its decision and also to decide whether the 2020 games will be hosted in Istanbul, Tokyo, or Madrid. In other words, after being part of the summer Olympics since 1896 and included at every Olympics since (aside from 1900), there will likely be no wrestling happening in 2020.

You’ve probably read or heard about the general dismay being voiced at the IOC’s recommendation to remove wrestling, a sport that besides being a major part of the modern Olympics also obviously connects the present-day games with the ancient Greek games from way back in the 8th century B.C. For a humorous take on the matter, see Charles P. Pierce’s Grantland piece on the matter in which he fears Zeus might seek some form of retribution.

Anyhow, what I found interesting in the discussion on the Two Plus Two Pokercast was the way Johnson and Schwartz drew an analogy between the traditional offerings at the WSOP each summer and Olympic sports. Not pursuing the idea that far, the pair talked about how the WSOP keeps certain games on the schedule -- razz being the example on which they focused -- more for the sake of tradition than for business reasons.

Indeed, business reasons apparently forced the IOC’s hand with regard to wrestling, as the committee apparently not only factors in a sport’s popularity, but also TV ratings and ticket sales.

That got me thinking again about what events were left out of the 2013 WSOP schedule which was announced a day after that episode of the Pokercast. And how the hosts might have discussed the analogy with the Olympics a lot more had the schedule been out by the time the show was recorded.

Comparing the 2012 and 2013 schedules reveals quite a lot of changes, including events dropped and added and a lot of moving around of events, much more so than has been the case in recent years.

There are 62 events this year, one more than last year. If you look through last year’s schedule, there are exactly 48 tournaments on this year’s schedule that are identical from a year ago (same game, same buy-in). In other words, 13 of the events on the 2012 WSOP schedule did not return, while there are 14 on the 2013 schedule that don’t have an exact parallel from last summer.

Here are the events that were on the 2012 schedule that didn’t come back in 2013 (arranged by buy-in):

2012

$1,500 Seven-Card Stud

$1,500 No-Limit Hold'em, Re-entry

$1,500 Limit Hold'em Shootout

$1,500 2-7 Draw (No-Limit)

$2,500 Mixed Hold'em (LHE/NLHE)

$3,000 Limit Hold'em

$3,000 Pot-Limit Hold'em/Pot-Limit Omaha

$5,000 Mixed Max

$5,000 Seven-Card Stud

$10,000 Pot-Limit Hold'em

$10,000 H.O.R.S.E.

$10,000 No-Limit Hold'em, 6-handed

$1,000,000 Big One for One Drop (NLHE)

And here are the ones appearing on the 2013 schedule that represent additions to what the case last year:

2013

$1,000 No-Limit Hold'em, Re-entry

$1,000 No-Limit Hold'em, Turbo

$1,111 The Little One for One Drop (NLHE)

$1,500 No-Limit Hold'em, "Millionaire Maker"

$1,500 No-Limit Hold'em

$2,500 No-Limit Hold'em, 6-handed

$2,500 Seven-Card Stud

$3,000 Mixed Max

$5,000 H.O.R.S.E.

$5,000 No-Limit Hold'em, 6-handed

$5,000 Pot-Limit Hold'em

$5,000 No-Limit Hold'em, 8-handed

$25,000 No-Limit Hold'em, 6-handed

$111,111 One Drop High Rollers (NLHE)

On that latter list you see two $1,500 NLHE events -- those represent two additional ones over and above the total number of $1,500 NLHE events from 2012. I also haven’t included the Ladies event here with its new “differential pricing.”

Comparing the two lists reveals a couple of small changes in buy-ins (e.g., the NLHE re-entry going from $1,500 to $1,000), the switch from $10K to $5K buy-ins for a few, and the removal of the Mixed Hold’em event and the Limit Hold’em Shootout.

No single variant was utterly removed from the 2013 WSOP schedule à la wrestling being taken taken out of the list of summer Olympic sports, although one might look on the changes and say lowball games or even seven-card stud might be endangered, relatively speaking.

My sense, though, is that unlike the IOC which imposes on itself a finite number of summer sports (26), the WSOP probably won’t be finding itself having to choose between variants anytime soon. That is to say, should it become desirable to add something new like an Open-Face Chinese bracelet event, I don’t think doing so will mean having to get rid of something else, given the tendency just to keep on adding more bracelet events.

What do you think of the 2013 WSOP schedule? And do any of the changes stand out for you as particularly good or bad?

(Illustration above by John Wray.)

Closing Thoughts (NBC & the Olympics)

Played a little poker last night while watching the heavily-edited, frequently-interrupted, and frustratingly-abridged version of the 2012 Summer Olympics closing ceremony on NBC.

Poker-wise much fun was had as Events No. 5 and 6 in the first season of the Hard-Boiled Poker league played out over at PokerStars (in my “Hard-Boiled Poker Home Game”).

There will be 20 events altogether during this inaugural HBP HG season, with two every Sunday night through the end of September. I was determined this week to grab a few points to try and move up a little in the league standings, having played four events without scoring any at all. The way the PokerStars points system works, you have to finish in the top third of a tourney to get any points.

I just missed making the points in Event No. 5, the PLO8 tourney, finishing fifth (of 12) despite playing several hands badly. I did get there in Event No. 6, though, the NLH turbo one in which I turned into a card rack near the end to finish runner-up (of 15).

Last night’s winners were LuckKey4Me (No. 5) and thejim2020 (No. 6). Psx120 managed to grab some points last night to sneak into first place in the Season 1 standings, just ahead of thejim2020 and Gambit 727. Still plenty of opportunities to catch the leaders and win the copy of Poker: Bets, Bluffs and Bad Beats by Al Alvarez (as I talked about Friday). Look to the right for info about joining my Home Game.

Meanwhile, I occasionally enjoyed some of the closing ceremony performances, with Eric Idle’s reprise of Monty Python’s “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” a clear highlight. Overall the spectacle seemed more like a super-long, highly uneven Super Bowl halftime show than a logical conclusion to the Olympics narrative, but the bits shown between commercials -- 20 minutes’ worth per hour (no shinola) -- were mostly entertaining to listen to and watch.

Was definitely dismayed, though, by some of NBC’s cuts to the show, including the decision to drop Ray Davies doing “Waterloo Sunset.” Leaving out Muse’s performance of “Survival,” the official song of the London games, seemed another unfortunate omission. We didn’t get to see Kate Bush, either, doing “Running Up That Hill,” the opener from one of the best pop LPs ever, Hounds of Love.

Of course, even when Kate Bush was at her most popular here in the U.S. it was mostly just with a small category of folks, so I get NBC deciding to show other, more familiar acts (although some of those featured in truth aren’t all that big on this side of the pond).

I kept it on, though, as I knew from afternoon tweets that The Who would be coming on at the end to rock Wembley. But NBC weirdly decided to stop the show at 11 p.m. just prior to The Who’s appearance.

“That concludes the closing ceremony,” said host Bob Costas just as the U.K. band Take That finished their tune, “Rule the World,” adding “We’ll be back to wrap things up after this.”

What we were watching didn’t really conclude the closing ceremony, I thought. And that “we’ll be back” teaser made it sound like there was more to come. So with the poker tourneys having long ended, I continued to watch.

Immediately after Costas spoke, NBC began to show the premiere of a new situation comedy it has been incessantly hyping with commercials throughout the last two-and-a-half weeks, Animal Practice. I thought at first I was watching another commercial, but after two minutes realized it was an actual episode.

During that span I saw a woman calling to her cat, Giggles, from the balcony of her high-rise apartment. The cat then leaps from the ledge -- kind of an upsetting thing to see, actually. The show then cuts to the waiting room of an ER for animals, where a doctor soon explains to the cat’s owner that Giggles will survive the fall. The doctor absurdly adds the cat had attempted suicide because it was in heat and frustrated. He then seems to hit on the woman.

It was an especially unfunny and unpleasant couple of minutes. And as soon as I understood it wasn’t stopping after that lame opening, I shut the sucker off and went to bed. I see this morning that NBC apparently did air The Who’s performance an hour later, after the local news.

With Costas’ lead-in and the withholding of the finale, NBC had literally tried to trick some part of its large audience to watch the pilot of this surely-doomed sitcom. As @Franzgleekout tweeted last night “NBC pulling this Animal Practice stunt is like someone who's just stolen your wallet kicking you in the balls for good measure.” Indeed, NBC’s decision-making with regards to scheduling and audience manipulation headlined this morning’s coverage of the show.

I enjoyed following the Olympic Games as much as anyone, but found that other relentless game of hide-and-seek NBC played with its delayed, edited coverage incredibly wearisome. Such a mess, really, and probably symbolic in some way of our highly cynical, commercialized culture.

As a sports fan, I’m glad to be done with all that applesauce and move back to enjoying live sporting events in real time. I’m ready for some football.

What I’m saying is, I’ve got a fever. And the only prescription is...

Tuning In To the Human Race

Yesterday afternoon I joined most of the world in watching the men’s 100-meter final from the 2012 London Olympics. Apparently something like 2 billion people were watching the race as it happened. Kind of incredible to imagine, really.

Was absolutely thrilling to watch, with Usain Bolt once again prevailing over what had to be the strongest ever field of sprinters. Bolt finished the race in 9.63 seconds -- the second-best ever time (after his own 9.58) -- with seven of the eight finalists finishing in less than 10 seconds. There were three Americans among the field, too, with Justin Gatlin of New York earning the bronze. Bolt’s fellow countryman from Jamaica, Yohan Blake, took the silver.

Like many here in the U.S., I didn’t bother waiting around the six-plus hours until 11:15 p.m. Eastern time to watch the delayed coverage on NBC, but rather viewed the race live online. Luckily I was watching the BBC 1 feed, as the online stream NBC was delivering apparently failed for just about everyone who tried to view it that way.

On the teevee, NBC was in fact showing an event live yesterday afternoon when the 100 meter race was happening, only it was in beach volleyball, a quarterfinal match involving one of the U.S. teams (April Ross and Jennifer Kessy) and a team from the Czech Republic (Marketa Slukova and Kristyna Kolocova). Actually that match had not even started, but NBC was offering some pre-match commentary while the sprinters were running over at the Olympic Stadium.

Like many, I found myself scratching my head over NBC’s decision to withhold live coverage of the race. I understand ratings for the prime time hours have been good (as in up from previous Olympics) which I suppose means the strategy of showing events delayed and edited is working for the network. This despite the fact that NBC shows 20 full minutes’ worth of commercials during each hour of prime time (no shinola).

But this was a weekend afternoon, a popular time for Americans to watch live sports on television. And something more than a quarter of the world’s population was watching the event as it happened.

Sure, I get that this is all business and someone somewhere pulling the strings at NBC has calculated that if the network aired the 100-meter final live late Sunday afternoon that would affect the viewership six-plus hours later significantly enough to warrant suppressing the live coverage. That said, I’m one of those who sometimes likes to pretend the Olympics are about something other than money -- say, the intangible value that might come from sharing the experience of witnessing some positive form of human achievement along with 2 billion other people.

But I’m also cynical enough to know that in reality that’s probably just happy-hippy-talk.

It’s tempting to draw some sort of connection between what NBC is doing with the Olympics and ESPN’s coverage of the WSOP this year (this is a poker blog, after all). Recall last year’s experiment with the “almost live” coverage of Days 3-8 of the Main Event. Those shows in July were well received and drew relatively large audiences, but the later edited shows saw a precipitous drop in ratings.

Some later attributed lower ratings for the “highlight” shows as having been caused in part by the earlier live coverage -- that is, viewers who watched in July didn’t bother to watch again later on. So this year there was no “almost live” coverage of the Main Event. (The edited shows from this year’s ME begin on ESPN next week.)

Of course, comparing a poker tournament to an event like the one that happened yesterday is perhaps not quite fair. As fun as the “almost live” WSOP coverage could be for some of us to watch, one could reasonably argue an event like a lengthy poker tournament is in fact better presented in highlight form or at least edited in some fashion. And while any delay necessarily affects the suspense inherently created by a live competition, it isn’t as vital a concern with poker as with sporting events such as the 100-meter dash.

That’s not even mentioning how nothing will ever happen in poker that could possibly attract the attention of 2 billion people. Heck, I don’t believe ESPN has ever even gotten 2 million people to watch the WSOP.

There are still plenty of other live events being carried on NBC’s several affiliated networks for Americans to enjoy, including the basketball and soccer (both of which have dedicated channels showing all games/matches live).

Still feels like NBC stumbled significantly yesterday, though, in its chase for ratings. There was something bigger going on. More human.

Defending Dressage

I mentioned a couple of days ago how I’d had a post ready to share about the old 1944 Western Tall in the Saddle starring John Wayne. Got interrupted by this week’s big PokerStars-DOJ-Full Tilt Poker news and so didn’t pull the trigger (pun intended). I’ve decided I’m going to hold onto that one a short while longer, actually, for a couple of reasons.

One is I’m starting to look back at a few other John Wayne flicks that involve poker, part of a larger project I have in mind regarding poker in film. The other is the Olympics have inspired me to discuss yet another topic, one that also happens to involve horses. And does in fact have something to do with poker, too.

Among other things, the Olympics have the potential to provide a great opportunity to learn about cultures other than one’s own. That sort of education can include learning about various sports and disciplines to which we normally pay little attention otherwise, only following them whenever we see them come up every couple of years at the summer or winter games.

It’s not surprising, then, when every time the Olympics come around we hear reactions -- sometimes voiced as criticisms -- concerning whether a particular event really rates as a “sport” or not. Some readily deliver judgments denouncing, say, synchronized diving or badminton or beach volleyball, and arguing over whether such sports are worthy of being included among those in the summer games. Same goes for curling or snowboarding or luge or perhaps some other sports we see in the winter.

The equestrian sports in the summer games always receive a lot of this sort of attention. There are various reasons why this is the case, although probably the biggest one involves the fact that humans aren’t simply competing against one another but are riding horses which have been variously trained and are thus also necessarily affecting outcomes.

There are six equestrian events, three for individuals and three for teams. Probably the best analogy for understanding how the events break down would be gymnastics, where you have both individual and team competitions, an “all around” event that combines several disciplines, and events which focus just on one discipline.

The equestrian events include one that is called “eventing” which combines dressage, jumping, and cross-country. Then there is just a “jumping” event. Finally they have a “dressage” event, too.

Dressage is getting added attention this summer here in the U.S. thanks to the fact that Ann Romney, wife of presumptive Republican nominee for president, Mitt Romney, is part-owner of a 15-year-old mare (Rafalca) that is competing in the individual dressage event, ridden by Jan Ebeling.

Romney, of course, already has an image as a super-wealthy candidate whose affluence (for some) perhaps makes him less able to identify with and/or lead or even communicate with the middle or lower classes. The connection with horse ownership and dressage is predictably being focused on as further evidence supporting that image.

I’ve written about dressage here a few times in the past, thanks to the fact that Vera Valmore (a.k.a., Mrs. Shamus) has been competing for many years. For her the sport is a logical extension of a lifetime of riding horses. I’ve watched countless shows in which she’s participated, and together we’ve seen a number of top level events over the years, including several in which Olympic champions have competed (in Las Vegas, Florida, here in North Carolina, and elsewhere).

The experience has caused me to appreciate dressage and the incredible skill it requires of riders as they communicate (and train) their horses to perform the various gaits and movements required by the various tests. I’ve also come to recognize a lot of overlap between dressage and poker and the mental challenges both involve.

As you might imagine, Vera and I have discussed these connections between poker and dressage many times -- including the fact that as is the case in poker, men and women compete against one another in the equestrian events (the only Olympic sport in which that is the case). I’ve occasionally written about those connections here, too.

Vera can obviously talk about dressage much more knowledgably than I can, although I think I’m probably more informed than most when it comes to discussing it and even arguing in favor of it as a worthwhile pursuit. But really my main reason for even bringing it up here is to defend dressage against the specific charge that it’s a sport in which only the rich can participate.

WSOP Media Director Nolan Dalla recently started a personal blog in which he’s sharing some entertaining stories and observations. In just a little over a week he’s already published about a dozen posts. Some are about poker and/or gambling, although so far most concern other topics, and all are worthwhile for Dalla’s insight, wit, and readiness to share an opinion or three. For those of us already fans of Dalla’s voluminous poker-related writings, the new blog has quickly become a welcome addition to our daily reading.

One post Dalla wrote earlier this week concerned the Olympics and his belief that “most of these gold medal events aren’t really ‘sports’ at all.” Not surprisingly, the equestrian events were included among those Dalla targeted.

While I’m not really too interested in debating whether or not something like dressage should be an Olympic sport, I do have to take exception to Dalla’s characterization of equestrian events as “nothing more than a chance for uber-rich people to say they made the Olympic team” and that “99.9 percent of the population can’t afford to do this activity.”

Dalla’s missing the mark a bit here. Like poker, dressage can be played at a variety of “stakes” -- high, middle, low, even “micro.” Sure, like those competing in other Olympic sports, there’s a lot of expense involved for those who end up at the Olympics or the World Cup or other top level competitions. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t many, many others enjoying and getting a lot out of equestrian events at lower levels, satisfying many of the same desires for competition and achievement many of us get from playing poker.

I’m certain Dalla wouldn’t think it fair for someone to have watched the $1,000,000 buy-in “Big One for One Drop” aired earlier this week on ESPN and from it drawn a conclusion that poker is just for the “uber-rich,” using that as a reason to dismiss it entirely as something not worth our time or attention.

I get where Dalla’s coming from, of course. Stephen Colbert came from a similar place this week on The Colbert Report in his hilarious two-part dressage lesson with the Olympian Michael Barisone (someone Vera and I have seen compete many times).

Check out Colbert’s dressage lesson here and here in which he goofs on the whole idea that dressage could ever be considered a sport for “Joe Six-Pack.”

Sure, dressage isn’t for everyone. But neither is poker. Like poker, equestrian events do generally require money in order to participate. But they are hardly as exclusive as some think.

Let the Games Begin

The 2012 Summer Olympics are getting started in and around London. I expect I’ll be as diverted by them as anyone over the next two-and-a-half weeks.

Once again the start of the Olympics are bringing those odd, sorta-serious sorta-goofball calls for poker somehow to be considered for inclusion as an officially recognized Olympic “sport.”

PokerListings made reference to a failed petition yesterday in their Daily 3-Bet. The Ante Up guys also tossed up an op-ed a couple of days ago renewing the call for poker to be considered for inclusion in the Olympics.

I’ve been keeping this blog long enough to have seen this idea come up a few times by now. Heck, four years ago I was making reference here to the start of the 2008 games and that same silly suggestion to include poker as an Olympic sport.

I’ve discussed that old debate over poker being considered a “sport” several times in the past as well. For me, I’ve always come down on the side that says poker is not a sport though obviously shares some common ground, including a lot of overlap between the way poker tourneys and sporting events get covered.

To me poker is better referred to as a “game” than a “sport.” And even though they do call them the Olympic games, if one looks at the International Olympic Committee’s evaluation criteria for sports and disciplines, poker satisfies almost none of them.

Of course, there are those who have problems with calling poker a “game,” too. Not long ago on my Twitter feed I idly watched a strangely heated debate begun by a person referring to poker as “just a game” and another jumping in to gripe about how the phrase somehow demeaned his chosen profession.

The original tweeter was simply trying to point out poker’s relevance when compared to other, more serious matters, but the responder thought it needful to defend poker as more than “just a game.”

I suppose the issue isn’t so much calling poker a game (which it is), but referring to it as just a game, when it also can represent a lot else, depending on one’s perspective. After all, the fact that poker can mean so many different things to different people is one of its greatest attributes. And a reason why so many find poker a worthwhile activity.

Or hobby. Or pastime. Or pursuit. Or whatever you think poker is.

The Olympics, A Chance to Contemplate the Significance of “Sport”

Haven’t gotten a chance to see all of this poker on TV here over the last couple of days. Too much else going on, I’m afraid.

ESPN has been airing its coverage of the 2009 World Series of Poker Europe all month. They started with a couple of hours devoted to the Caesars Cup in which Team Europe defeated Team Americas, then this month they are having eight more hours devoted to the Main Event won by Barry Shulman. The Super Bowl got in the way early on, and now the Winter Olympics has taken over our crystal receiver, so I have yet to view any of that coverage.

Last night also saw the debut of the sixth season of “High Stakes Poker” with new co-host Kara Scott joining Gabe Kaplan with the commentary. That show comes on the Game Show Network, a channel we used to receive but now requires an upgrade for us to get -- and I won’t be doing that for one show. So as with the WSOPE, I’ll be trying to catch up on HSP soon online, too.

I mentioned the Winter Olympics, which Vera Valmore and I have dialed into the last couple of nights. I know many complain about the way NBC covers things, with all the tape delays and the prepackaged stuff disagreeably mediating the viewing experience at times. But I still find it all pretty compelling, and am often astounded by the focus and drive of these athletes.

Of course, as happens with the Summer Olympics as well, there are events that arise that make one wonder about the definition of “sport.” This weekend that conversation was mostly about the frequently-featured luge competition, which saw the men’s singles play out following the tragic death of Georgian Nodar Kumaritashvili during a test run.

Clearly luge is a sport that involves incredible concentration and body awareness. As does the skeleton, the one in which they ride down on their tummies. Still, for many of us watching it is hard to appreciate the athleticism required not only to perform well, but to avoid injury. Or, as was sadly illustrated on Friday, even worse.

Maybe it looks too much like something we all did as kids on the playground for us to appreciate luge as a sport. In fact, I remember saying something Saturday night to Vera about how it was sort of like a grown-up, much more serious (and dangerous) version of sliding. That led us into a conversation about poker and the oft-evoked debate over its designation by some as a “sport.”

By the way, for those who don't know, that photo above is of poker reporter B.J. Nemeth and his dog, Rhapsody, who were in Vancouver for the start of the games. (Click the pic to enlarge.) The pair is in the middle of an epic cross-continent trip which Nemeth is chronicling both on Twitter and his blog.

Nemeth is one of those who finds it useful to call poker a sport. If you are interested, he discusses some of the reasons why he thinks so in this Pokerati post from a while back. Meanwhile, Vera disagrees, and I, too, am more inclined to call poker a “game.” That said, as Vera and I talked further about the issue, I noted to her how calling it a “sport” has had some legal significance in certain parts of the world.

Indeed, last summer when I went to Kyiv, Ukraine to help cover that European Poker Tour event, I would have never even been there had Russia not decided in July to remove poker from its official list of sports. By doing so, poker was no longer protected from being prohibited by a new gambling law, and thus it instantly became unfeasible for the EPT to stage an event in Moscow. Thus was it moved to Kyiv (and, as it happened, I got the invite to go help cover the event soon after).

The timing was good for Kyiv, because Ukraine had just recently (in June 2009, I think) had a court decision where poker was included in its official list of non-Olympic sports. In fact, at the opening of the EPT Kyiv event, a welcome message from Ukraine’s “Minister of Youth, Family and Sport” was read referring to the decision.

I’m with Vera, though, in saying that poker hasn’t the athletic component to make it a real “sport” in my mind. In luge or skeleton the expression of athleticism is perhaps too subtle for me readily to appreciate, but I’m willing to allow that these are in fact sports I’m watching. I know some want to argue for a kind of non-obvious athleticism in poker, too, citing things like stamina or even (as in luge) body awareness/control as factors affecting one’s performance. But unless it helps us get some sort of legal clearance to play our tourneys, I’m sticking with the “game” designation for poker.

Speaking of, I’ll be helping cover another event here pretty soon, the North American Poker Tour (NAPT) Venetian event that starts on Saturday. More on that to come!

Meanwhile, I think there’s a bunch of skiing and skating on tap for today and tonight. Gonna have to check that out. Might be a little while before I get to all that poker watching.

The Poker Cause: Phelps Helps

Like most of the world, I tuned in yesterday to see some of the coverage of the conclusion of the 2008 Summer Olympic Games in Beijing. In the morning saw the tape of the U.S. men’s basketball team hang on against Spain, then last night watched a bit of the closing ceremonies. As much as I like Zeppelin, I ain’t too sure how exactly “Whole Lotta Love” (with suitably expurgated lyrics) fits into the larger message of the Olympic movement. But whatever. As with the opening ceremonies, the whole spectacle was pretty eye-popping.

For poker fans, the highlight of the games was probably that story about swimmer Michael Phelps’ professed ambitions to play in the 2009 World Series of Poker. That one surfaced (pun intended) soon after Phelps had grabbed the eighth of his gold medals.

I saw it first in The New York Times (8/19/08), where in an article about Phelps’ intentions to “return to normalcy,” he was described as an “avid card player,” saying “it would be cool” to play in the WSOP. It was at an initial, post-medals press conference that Phelps spoke of his interest in poker. “‘My game is a little off right now, so I’ll have to start improving it a little bit,’” he is quoted as saying.

I then saw the Poker Shrink’s notice the same day as the NYT article that Phelps had already been invited to play in the 2009 NBC National Heads Up Poker Championship. Soon after that I read that the Asian Poker Tour had also invited Phelps to play in the Macau event (which begins on September 1). The letter to Phelps from Jeff Mann, an APT rep, explains how the APT would happily “fly you in, organize your accommodation, and buy-you in [sic] to the tournament.” Mann also goes on in a somewhat silly vein to joke that Phelps “almost certainly [has] more chance of making good money from our $1,500,000 prize pool than securing any commercial deals.”

Of course, everyone wants Phelps -- his star shines more brightly than any other celebrity at the moment, and will continue to glow for some time. Even before this year’s Olympics, Phelps had secured sponsorships with Visa, Nike, Speedo, Kellogg’s, Adidas, Rosetta Stone, Omega, and other large corporations. And he’s not going away. NBC has already announced its intention to televise the World Swimming Championships for the next three years, their primary motivation being to take advantage of viewers’ interest in Phelps’ exploits moving forward.

How should poker players and fans feel about these developments?

In the thread over on 2+2 one finds the usually high noise-to-signal ratio, but several posters are correctly identifying the development as “good for the game” (as they say). (One also learns there, incidentally, that Phelps apparently plays a lot of online poker.)

Why does poker -- or, more precisely, those who manage and direct large scale poker events like the NBC Heads-Up Championship or the APT -- want Michael Phelps? For the event organizers, Phelps’ presence instantly attracts the attention of non-poker fans, thereby enlarging their overall reach (very good for securing sponsors). For the poker community, Phelps identifying himself as a poker player instantly affords poker a kind of credibility in mainstream society. Which poker can use, frankly.

Who knows whether Phelps will pursue his poker ambitions or not. Even if he doesn’t, his acknowledgment on the world stage of an interest in poker most certainly helps the game’s proponents as they wage their battles in other (e.g., political, social, moral) contexts.

Perspectives on Poker

Have had a few occasions this week to contemplate poker’s popularity and its place in the “big picture.” Found myself recognizing several different perspectives on poker, all coming from different angles and in different contexts -- most of which were not the usual ones I encounter when it comes to pokery-type observations. As I considered whether I might be able to bring ’em all together here in a Friday post, I realized they might all add up to a kind of commentary on the current position of poker in the “mainstream” of society and/or culture.

These anecdotes begin as somewhat personal in nature, then become gradually less so. I present ’em here for yr consideration as to whether they add up to anything or not.

1. Week started with a consulting visit with an accountant regarding this “freelance writing” gig I’ve found myself pursuing ever more earnestly over the last couple of years. Thought it might be prudent tax-wise to look into whether I should be thinking about declaring certain expenses, establishing an LLC, or contemplating any other moves to increase the profitability of this here side job.

Won’t get into specifics, but there was something novel (for me) about sitting there and telling my “story” to a person I’d never met before, including sharing detailed info about my hobby (online poker), the blog and its history, getting recruited to write for PokerNews, and so forth.

As I described all of these things, I couldn’t help feeling a bit of hubris about it all. Maybe more than a bit. I mean, hell, it is a “success” story, in a way, involving winning money at poker, earning some attention (and some cabbage) for writing, and other stuff all of which might be thought to reflect generously on the storyteller.

My audience wasn’t all that moved, though. He was friendly, professional, and courteous, but I could tell none of this really meant much to him. Of course, a big part of his non-response probably came from the realization that I probably didn’t really need his services, but his few comments about poker pretty clearly revealed a less-than-enthusiastic attitude, miles away from the instinctive interest the rest of us maniacs have when it comes to poker.

2. Then came the ESPN broadcast of that final table on Tuesday which I worked (wrote about it earlier in the week). A few friends and family members watched in order to try to spot glimpses of me in the background. Meaning there were a few folks watching poker this week who never watch it otherwise, and who frankly cannot fathom the appeal of a show like the one ESPN puts on. Again, talking to them about the show demonstrated pretty clearly how little poker signifies to most.

Favorite moment came when my father called to say he’d caught a glimpse of me. He’d been watching Family Guy, but had flipped over during a commercial and just happened to see me. As much as I like poker, I could see watching Family Guy instead, too, if I were in his place.

3. I spent a few off-hand minutes this week enjoying this very cool, belated birthday gift from my brother, a DVD collection of the first forty years of Rolling Stone magazine. All of the issues have been scanned and are searchable by keyword. While searching for old articles about Brian Eno and Hüsker Dü, I thought it might be interesting to look up “poker” and see how this arbiter of popular culture had seen fit to report and/or opine on the game over the last forty years.

I’ll be writing more about what I found next week, but I’ll go ahead and share one finding with you today. It is safe to say that poker -- particularly so-called “professional” poker -- pretty much did not exist for Rolling Stone until the last couple of years. And if you think about it, did it for most other folks, either?

4. On Thursday, I saw where doubleas had shared an excerpt from a sports blog he reads called Two in the Box. The post from which the quote came began as a response to the ongoing Brett Favre saga. The author of the post, Monkey, was expressing his fatigue with the nonstop, wall-to-wall coverage of Favre on ESPN.

That rant led Monkey to fashion a top ten list “of others I could live without,” one item of which was “Professional Poker Players.” Says Monkey, “The infatuation period is finally over, and all that is left is grown men acting like 10-year-olds every time they get an (un)lucky card. Seriously, guys like Mike Matusow & Phil Hellmuth are not modern-day cowboys; they are immature narcissists who are too emotionally unstable to hold day jobs.”

Monkey has a point, we must admit. A couple, actually. Of course, those of us who pay attention know that adults acting childishly is not “all that is left” of televised poker. But it is more than understandable how that might seem the case to those who aren’t tuned in as closely. Even so, it’s hard to argue with the observation that “the infatuation period is finally over,” particularly when we compare poker’s place in popular culture today to where it was a few years ago.

5. Finally, with the 2008 Summer Olympics kicking off today, I recalled how four years ago there was a tongue-in-cheek campaign to get poker included as a sport this time around in Beijing. Does anyone else remember this? A website -- “Poker in Athens” -- even launched an online petition to have poker included at Beijing. (The site no longer exists.) Here’s an old BBC article about it, the author of which jokingly suggests Brits should sign the petition, as the campaign represents “the best chance we have of winning a medal.” Oof!

Such a proposal was rightly considered a fun, distracting bit of human interest then. And while I have noticed a thread or two on the forums about how poker players might be chosen and ranked in an Olympic competition, I haven’t seen any similar petitions this time around. A silly idea, to be sure (even if one thinks of poker as a sport), but not completely off-the-wall to have come up in 2004, even as a gag. No one’s thinking about poker that way today, though. Not even as a joke.

Like I say, just thought I would share these various perspectives and let you decide if they add up to anything.

Have a good weekend, all!